Nimbus! {Open to All}

[The Daily Prophet]

The Daily Prophet
Daily Advertisement:

Nimbus Founder Devlin Whitehorn is at it again! This time introducing the Nimbus 1001! It's sleek, it's fast, and it's frankly fabulous. This broom really looks the part - neatly groomed bristles and iron castings. There's no question in our minds why Nimbus are the broommaker of choice for many professional players. The Nimbus 1001 goes on sale from Tuesday and Quality Quidditch Supplies are expecting masses to flock to the store to see this years' new flying beauty take it's rightful place in the store's front window. Limited stock! Buy it while stocks last.

---

((OOC: There's a new broom up for grabs, folks! It's the newest, most modern broom there is on the market. This shop will be displaying it proudly in their window and selling it to those who can afford the rather hefty price tag that this broom holds. Be reasonable and think about whether you'd really be able to afford such a broom, or whether you'll have to keep on dreaming. Other than that, anyone can join!))

[Deleted]

Summer has stretched long and drear, days of exchanging pleasantries with people who often consider him with an expression less than pleasant, or dancing with suitable girls who his feelings were certainly less than suitable. On the whole it had been a strain. Still he had done as little to distress his mother, always such a high strung women, as he could. She had even taking him away for a week of Nogtail hunting a trip she had alleged to have not felt ‘herself’ enough to embark on since the family disgrace nearly three years ago. Regulus had enjoyed the outings as little as he had back then. He loved the company of the snowy white hounds and he was much impressed by the impeccable pedigrees kept by the houndsmen, they truly knew that blood told. Yet as of the years before he found the chase to wild and the kill distasteful as for the custom of smearing the blood across your face, he had felt soiled! The human company he found more mixed he enjoyed the interest the younger children took in having a new face about but he found the bluff heartiness of the boys his age exhausting.

Thus he was not unduly upset when the jaunt had been cut short when at table one evening a witch made mention of Mrs Black’s other son... Little was said at the time, his mother showing a rare moment of restraint but later in her rooms she had ranted and raved and Regulus with a certain amount of relief made their excuses and packed. It many ways being home was an improvement, with his mother feeling incapacitated his social calendar was slashed allowing him the freedom to read, fly, and dawdle toys for his beloved Hisspitt. Not unexpectedly his father had little time for him. Regulus suspected him considering more boy than man and so little worthy of time spent on him and so it was a rare delight that upon receiving his Hogwarts letter announcing he had received the title of Quiditch Captain this year that his father had exclaimed proudly and promised him a new broom. That was Regulus task today, although to his disappointment his father pride only extended to allowing his free use of the family’s capital not to accompany on the trip, still with the opportunity to buy the new Nimbus he wasn’t complaining.

To enter the shop he was forced to push through, as politely as possible, the crowd of grubby fingered fellow Nimbus admirers uncomfortable aware as he spotted fellow students he would be one of the only ones able to afford a beauty such as the Nimbus 1001. Still the thought of having a broom such as she was the only thing distracting him from feeling sick at the thought of captaining the quiditch team, even he was not delusioned enough to consider himself an able captain. In the cool of the shop he was almost alone, one girl about his age had his pack to her as she browsed the shelves and the shop keeper himself was busy in earnest discussion with a man he suspected of being the captain of the Windborne Wasps. Enjoying the quiet of the shop with its glorious woody smells he took the opportunity to exam the 1001 at close range.

[Deleted]

It has been one hell of an effort to get out of that house, let me tell you. After having slipped off to South America earlier in the holidays, her mother wasn't all that keen to take her eyes off of her adopted daughter. But where there is a will, there is a way; her mother oh so willingly let her leave the house for the day when Rose continued to melodramatically moan about how bored she was and how her life was going nowhere. Her mother saw through the scheme, but handed her fifty pounds for school things anyway, and let her daugher kiss her on the cheek before swanning off. Rose didn't even attempt to hide a victorious grin as she finally made her way to the Leaky Cauldron. Stepping in, she already felt more at home - like magic was in the air and wafted through her senses.

Gringotts was her first stop since it wasn't probable any wizarding vendors would accept little pieces of paper and therefore exchanged it for 9 galleons, 16 sickles and 29 knuts. Mmm. She could do something with this today (not everying, since she did want to escape again) like a few textbooks, maybe a nice new quill... As she walked down the cobbled street, her eyes caught something she most definitely did not have enough money for. Rose had to concentrate to keep her mouth closed. It was breathtakingly beautiful. She could hardly see it over the crowd of people but only someone with a great love for Quidditch would understand just how beautiful and how powerful and how eviable it was. She couldn't remember the last time she wanted anything more. But, alas, for someone growing up on a council estate, the possibility that she would one day own something so luxurious was extremely slim. Hell, she needed to get a job.

Nonetheless, if she couldn't have te Nimbus 2001, she could still get some polish and stuff for her Cleansweep. Really, she didn't have much to moan about. Her parents had pulled out all the stops last year to get her that broom which she had been raving about for months. No matter how nice the Nimbus was, she still had her Cleansweep and, as it happened, a badge that said she was Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain. She'd gotten hers last year and cherished it since. It was the reason she got the Cleansweep, as well. Deep in thought about brooms and Quidditch and all that lark, Rose made her way through the shop, examining the items on the shelves, eyes automatically looking first at the price. She'd spotted Keifer Milligan - captain of the Willbourne Wasps, can you believe! - talking to the shopkeeper and the fact that she hasn't attacked him for an autograph was to be admired. Self-control, Rose, self-control. The items on the shelves served as enough of a distraction (she was not going to keep staring at that stupid Nimbus, knowing she couldn't get it) until she spotted yet another person she recognised.

"Regulus?" It was an automatic response. She greeted people when she saw them and she knew who he was from being the Slytherin's Seeker. There had also been talk of him becoming Captain... Perhaps that was why he was admiring the Nimbus? Merlin knows the Blacks had enough money. But, she couldn't really say she had talked much with Regulus over the years except for fleetingly on the pitch or at prefect meetings, so greeting him out of nowhere was perhaps not the most expected thing to do. "Sorry, I just saw you admiring the Nimbus... It's beautiful, isn't it?" Rose smiled softly and supposed that if there was one thing they'd get along over, it would be Quidditch.

[Deleted]

So intense was his focus on the Nimbus he hardly heard his name and turned slowly at the girl’s voice only half out of the trancelike state the beauty of a perfect creation could afflict him with. His eyes widened slightly in surprise as he recognised who had spoken to him, the girl, Rose Lawson was a Hufflepuff the same age as him. He knew her but not well, they shared prefect duties but as far as he could remember they had never been partners on watch. Some part of him wondered if that was the Head’s being careful not to leave a mudblood unsupervised with a Black, he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or affronted if that was the case.

Memory trickling back he realised in truth he knew her better from the pitch, where as a seeker he was ever a watcher. She was a vocal captain and able chaser her team of last year had clearly both respected and understood her command he doubted the Slytherin team would feel the same about him. Surely a seeker should never captain a team? Seekers were independent playing their own game amongst the bigger game, as ever he felt his role in life but because of this so little involved in the main game that he felt captaining it would be impossible.

He realised he had left her wprds hanging lonesome in the air and responded cordially hoping he looked no more the fool for the pause. “Rose” He inclined his head respectfully, a lady even a lady made of mud must be treated so. He assumed greetings done she would have turned aside, surely they would have little enough to say to each other but no she spoke again and his thoughts so mirrored hers that he was startled into response without further thought. It is, so beautiful, a creation so perfect I could lose a day or more just examining it… Eyes back on the broom his voice was soft as if he caress the wood with tone alone. Beauty he knew was his weakness, his robes of green satin and soft charcoal wool, expressed that readily in the expensive tailoring and indulgent fabric.

Still more intend on the broom than his companion, he considered it in comparison to his own silver arrow, he had the same broom since his second year and still considered it a more elegant creature but the 1001 had that beautiful pent up power of a charger which the arrow however nippy lacked. Yes the 1001 was truly a grand thing befitting for one of the Black family but surely appropriate for a mudblood? “Surely not the broom for a mudblood like yourself though.” His thoughts were voiced calmly if not fully consciously, should one hear it his words were not really intended as an insult but as a simple fact. This was the way of the world.

[Deleted]

"It is, so beautiful, a creation so perfect I could lose a day or more just examining it…" Rose had almost chuckled at the comment. She would probably stare at that stupid broom all day, as well, but the fact that she couldn't afford it sort of dampened the joy of it. There must always be a difference in the way we see the beauty in the things we covet and the things we own. Theoretically, something you coveted and couldn't possess, would be ultimately more desirable than something you could very easily possess. Fortunes not appreciated if the sweet stuff comes too fast. Rose lived in a relatively poor family, so that could definitely not be said of her. Regulus, on the other hand, she knew could easily afford the Nimbus. That was probably why he was here. 

“Surely not the broom for a mudblood like yourself though.”

Maybe another reason why Rose and Regulus weren't exactly buddies. While they shared a love for Quidditch, they did not see eye-to-eye on muggles or magical people born from them. Of course, while Regulus was very secure in his knowledge of being as pure as a wizard could be, Rose had absolutely no way to tell. Her family may be muggles, but they were also not exactly her family - she had been adopted. Her parenthood was a complete mystery to her. At his comment, instead of feeling deeply offended and storming out in tears and all that nonsense, Rose chuckled. "Right, that would be what you'd think, wouldn't it?" Rose was being vague and she knew it. Maybe it would get him interested in what she, a mudblood in his eyes, said. "Where and with who you grow up has absolutely nothing to do with blood."

It's a wonder she wasn't placed in Gryffindor, as it took a fair amount of courage to talk that way to a Black and to walk towards the broom at the same time.

[Deleted]

What had he expected her to do when he casually and surely correctly dubbed her a mudblood? Maybe he’d thought she’d be embarrassed or angry even. Actually the truth was he hadn't thought at all, hindsight came so much easier than forethought... Still even had he thought his words through it wouldn't even for a moment thought that she would chuckle. Chuckle! She had chuckled at him as if she knew something that he didn’t some clever secret. It caught him off guard and finally the girl rather than the broom had his full focus.

That she carried on in the air of myth and mystery to claim him ignorant of some ‘great’ secret served more to annoy him than intrigue and then her claim that ‘where you grow up has nothing to do with blood’ truly bemused him. Vexed his voice lost its silk, face creased he showed slightly too much bright white teeth under nervous lips as he sniped his reply. ”I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about but…” And in the drawn pause he appeared to gain substance, growing with his convictons ”Dawson is certainly not a name established in society.”

When she stepped towards him he felt the urge to retreat that a slight shift in his posture might have betrayed before he stilled himself, how embarrassing to retreat before a Hufflepuff. In his stillness he regained himself breathing softly, she must be mad, perhaps with jealously for the world that would always be more his by right and blood than hers, as ever must be the misery with mudbloods. He must be kind. He softened slightly in part remembering he had another year of prefect duties to spend with the girl. "Look Rose, what I said was unnecessary pray explain?"Perhaps curiosity killed snakes as well as Cats.

[Deleted]

Rose turned her head, one blonde braid falling over her shoulder as she did so, watching Regulus Black do something she would never have expected. He looked surprised. Had she, by simply not being insulted by his name for her, surprised him? In all fairness, she had never seen him like this, and she quite liked it. Rose had always been a bright girl, and she was tough and did not appreciate being belittled, so she couldn’t help but love it. His face creased in confusion and he seemed a little unsure of himself as he replied. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about but… Lawson is certainly not a name established in society.”

She bit onto her, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You hate not knowing things, don’t you?” Rose asked, but it was more like she was pointing it out. She knew where his buttons were now. Try not to press them, she may, she might as well have fun knowing where they are. “Well, I can tell you that you are completely correct, but… That’s not my real surname.”

When she stepped forwards, she could have sworn he had wanted to move away. Was she making him uncomfortable? Did she like doing that? No, not really, but she was teasing him, is all. Perhaps he would treat her differently if her blood status was not the main factor for him judging her. “Look, Rose, what I said was unnecessary, pray explain?”

Her eyebrows quirked up. He was obviously just saying that since he technically had to see her throughout the year, so getting along was only practical. “Well, seeing as that is probably the closest to an apology I’ll get from you, I’ll tell you something not a lot of people know...” Why would she tell him this? She could keep him on a string but... she wanted to see what he'd do.

She couldn’t help but wonder what people would think if they saw them standing across from each other in intrigued conversation. “I’m adopted,” she almost whispered before smiling widely, moving her hand to the broom to touch the smooth wood, looking from it back to him. “My parents could be anyone. Do you know what that means?”

Uncertainty. It meant complete uncertainty. What was he going to think of her now, when all he could think of her would be dependent, not on her ancestry, but on who she actually was, as a person. If he couldn’t categorise her, what then? Would he completely ignore her for being a great big blonde question mark? Rose was on her way to discovering her past, and she only needed one surname to track it down. This holiday, she had promised herself, she would go back to the orphanage and try her absolute best to coax it out of the only woman who had ever met her mother. The only thing she had told Rose, was that her mother knew she would be special. That meant that her mother must have had magic, and combined with the surname ‘Smith’, that could only mean that she was related to a very long line of purebloods, stemming from Helga Hufflepuff herself. Hardly a mud blood. But that was yet to come. Right now, in that small little Quidditch shop, stood a pureblood, and a complete mystery.

[Deleted]

The awful girl clearly loved this, all bloody smugness, the little cat that had the cream and he didn’t even know what the cream was. It was very unfair. She was even smiling at him, what right had she? Stupid girl, stupid, stupid girl. Clearly a stupid girl as she stated the obvious, of course he hated not knowing thing, who ever said ignorance was bliss probably had lived a very short life. Maybe a short happy life was worth it. To be a happy little idiot, it wasn’t for him. ”Knowledge is everything” The word slipped between his lips almost unbidden, they weren’t strictly true either, if he really believed that knowledge was everything he’d be a ‘claw as it was he valued other things. Valued both beauty and the beast but knowledge was power and power perhaps would finally win him the chance of devising a life of his own a life to be valued for the boy he was rather than the boy he wasn’t.


Still stood statue still he listened to the girl of mud, as with her merry words she played with him, he could feel her playing him and yet as any chess piece being aware of being played does not stop it. He frowned slightly as she claimed to not really be a Dawson, unsure why it was significant, why if she wasn’t a Dawson did she call herself one? Perhaps she was a bastard but then why was she so smug about it. She seemed to be drawing out the explanation, a grand reveal of sorts, perhaps even a reward for his half apology? She was a strange bird. He wasn’t sure if her strange manners offended or amused him, perhaps they merely intrigued him.


Then the announcement delivered in a whisper that demanded his attentions, she was a foundling. A creature without past. It was a concept that baffled him, even as he knew it shouldn’t. His life was built on heritage he was a Black, before he was anything, Regulus Arcturus Black each name had belonged to many in his family before it had come to him and his life would be spent in service to his family. What would he be adrift? Would he be the same boy, the same man had he the blood but not the raising? Blood tells… Blood it all came down to blood thus had he been raised a kneazle in a little of kittens he would still be a kneazle not a cat.


This thought through to its end would still be true of Rose, she could be a true witch adrift amongst the muggles or she could be nothing. It was like Schrödinger’s cat she either was or was not but until he knew she was strangely both. ”It means everything.” He answered in the same hushed tone, he knew he’d been caught in her web of mystery, set up perhaps but as his annoyance ebbed he knew he was enjoying it. He watched her caress ‘his broom’ considering, he knew it was daft but considering how little happiness he had wrung from life being sensible today he would be the fool. The first card of the tarot, the adventurer the zero; from nothing to infinity, today that would be him. ”Do you know anything of your history, a name, a symbol?” He considered quietly eyes on the broom or her hand, he wasn’t sure… ”It might mean nothing, most likely you’re still a mudblood from the hands of one set of muggles to another.”

[Deleted]

Rose found it... funny? No, interesting, that he hadn't snapped at her yet or told her and her smugness to 'piss off already'. For someone in his house and from his particular family, she had sort of expected it. Even if she did enjoy this little interaction of theirs, she wondered how long it would last - how long he would stand her? But, for all intents and purposes, he didn't look like he was going to snap at her. "Knowledge is everything."

"No," she seemed to answer too quickly. It wasn't everything. There was love, loyalty, courage... No, perhaps not everything. "But is is power. But power corrupts. It corrupts ideas... and people," she looked at him pointedly. She wasn't trying to be a wise-ass, but Rose said things as they were, regardless of who she was talking to. She knew it was going to get her into a lot of trouble, perhaps sooner rather than later. There was a war going on, and being outspoken and outwardly moral, might not be the best thing to be. Nor was being of an unknown blood type... Perhaps finding out her blood type was more important than she thought it was... Being unknown was just as bad as being a muggleborn, right?

When she had revealed her little secret, she could see the cogs in his head working and she sort of liked it. As much as she wanted to find out what she really was, being a mystery was kind of fun. He replied, his voice hushed, and he seemed, frankly intrigued. ”It means everything.” She had looked up from the broom to him, but his eyes were still fixed on the broom. Her fingers moved on her own accord, feeling their way on the polished wood. Being a Quidditch player for so long, it felt nothing but natural, even in a situation like this. "Do you know anything of your history, a name, a symbol? It might mean nothing, most likely you’re still a mudblood from the hands of one set of muggles to another." She couldn't be offended. Honestly, she couldn't - this was just the way he spoke. It was his upbringing, nothing else. 

"No," she answered again. It seemed like a pattern now, that she would say no to almost everything he said - appose him. "My mother was of magic. The -" she couldn't believe she was talking to him, of all people, about something that was actually so personal to her. She never spoke about her real mum. "The woman who my mother handed me over to, she told me that after she handed me over, my mother gave her my name - just Rose - and said I would be special. Then she disappeared. Out of thin air, I was told. That never made sense to me but now..." She looked down at her hand again. "She appirated. My mother appirated. She was a witch, Regulus. She had to be. I just... I need a name." Regulus would understand that, wouldn't he? Needing to belong. Perhaps that was why she was telling him this, even if her mind told her she was losing it. 

[Deleted]

It was almost alarming how quickly she cut in on him. How neatly she had judged his thoughts and spoken them aloud but of course, oh of course, she had her own judgemental additions. It was like something out of the softies addition of beedle: power equals ruination and sin, yet if you looked at life it was clearly the strong that survived. Regulus suspected Rose was strong, a bit stupid perhaps but strong nonetheless he wasn’t so sure about himself. ”Why do you think power corrupts?” It was a simple question and one he was genuinely interested in hearing her answer too, still perhaps not quite interested enough to negate criticising how she had leapt to judge him. ”That aside don’t you think it’s a little judgemental to assume I only value knowledge for its advantages, I bet you wouldn’t say that if I was a Ravenclaw.” It was his turn to challenge her eyes off the broom and on to her, one eyebrow quirk upwards in a perfect dark arch.

The pot calls the kettle black, it perhaps was not always wise for a pureblood supremism who kept Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy for bedtime reading, to accuse another of being judgemental. Still he made no claims to moral perfection unlike golden haired snub nose who clearly felt she trod a righteous path. Regulus only great confidence was that he was ever desperately imperfect why else would he strive so hard.

He was glad that she’d finally stopped smirking at him, now they she had shared her secret she could no longer tease him for his ignorance. Like most people being mocked had never been an activity he enjoyed and he lacked the quiet confidence to readily turn it to his advantage. Now they were onto the serious topic of heritage he was happier sincerely interested in the mystery. As she relayed the story he felt the rise as she declared her mother was magic, Rose must be a half blood at the very least… Perhaps her mother was fine women of good stock lured or raped by muggle scum and so ashamed she abandoned the baby. He suspected his aunt would force the same of any of his cousins, more than that he knew it. That’s what would be expected of Andromeda if she wished to return, hence he had never seen his second cousin. Full blame to the cad Tonks who had stolen her away from her family, Andromeda had always seemed the quietest of his cousins, she had probably been easily and tragically seduced.

He had stood silent listening, watching her with almost painful attentiveness, feeling the longing that seemed to almost thrum through her and he felt a kindred spirit striving to belong. He had his family and his heritage and despite its difficulties he valued it beyond all else, he understood this need in another. ”Yes a name, if we can find a name…” He trailed off in surprise realising he had said we, to this hufflepuff of dubious heritage, he hardly knew her. Then he cast the concern aside. ”Do you know anyone who might have known her, who did she give you to, can they be found?”

[Deleted]

”Why do you think power corrupts?”

It was such a simple question, but it made her look up at him, a small frown at her features. Could she give a simple answer without sounding stupid? Rose knew that he probably did consider her stupid, for whatever reason, but she knew she wasn't so it didn't bother her. But still. "Because if you have power, not a lot else matters," she answered, surprised at how short a time it took her to reply to him. "You begin to think you're untouchable. A sense of power makes it easier to rationalize away ethical lapses and... it brings out the worst in a person. Even if there was nothing bad to begin with." She realized she's been looking at him the whole time she spoke, only breaking eye-contact to blink. Rose quickly looked back to the broom in uncertainty again. "That's what I believe, anyway."

”That aside don’t you think it’s a little judgmental to assume I only value knowledge for its advantages, I bet you wouldn't say that if I was a Ravenclaw.”

She looked up at him as he spoke, an eyebrow raised as she just made sure it was him actually saying that. But his lips moved and the words came out and Rose shook her head. "Would you have said I was ill-suited for this broomstick if you hadn't thought me a muggleborn? Bit rich, coming from you, to decide what's judgmental and what isn't." She stopped, wondering if she had crossed a line. She kept her chin up, though. He had to hear it. "Although, if your search for knowledge is purely for the purposes of wanting to be knowledgeable, that's... Well, that's amendable. And I won't question it." 

He seemed so deep in thought, and Rose wished she knew what about. Not her, surely, but more of how he should react to this stupid blonde female who was spouting secrets at him. They stood in silence for a moment, but it hardly seemed uncomfortable. After everything, he seemed to understand her better than most would. He watched her with such attentiveness that she almost felt self-conscious. "Yes a name, if we can find a name…” We? Was his intention after all of it to actually help her? Or was it more self-serving; wanting to find out if he was allowed to talk to her or not by some inborn rule not to fraternize with the less worthy. ”Do you know anyone who might have known her, who did she give you to, can they be found?” he continued, and while she wasn't sure of his intentions, she wasn't unhappy.

Was she going to tell him? Seems so. "At the orphanage... There was that woman that took me, and... Well, I think she knows more than she's letting on," she admitted her plans softly. "I was going to go find her there and try and convince her to tell me. When I was ready." It was true, why hadn't she gone before?  "And I think I am now." Did he have anything to do with that?

[Deleted]

It pleased him to make her frown, a pleasure that finally it no longer felt like the conversation was no longer solely for the Hufflepuff’s own amusement. He enjoyed watching her struggle through to justify her nursery tale statement ‘power corrupts’ indeed. Her description of power though made it sound just as attractive at the poor attributes she attached to it sounded daft. Regulus considered her words quietly slight smile creeping across his face as their eyes remained locked. He to an extent he agreed If you have power then you might be untouchable but surely that could be as much good as bad and ethics what did they have to do with power. When she finished speaking he let her be the one to break eye contact and his eyes held more challenge than agreement as he spoke.“I think we shall have to agree to disagree, I do not take your beliefs as facts merely superstitions.”


When she called him out on his accusation of her judgemental behaviour it raised another flash of amusement, unusually for him, her tempestuousness was putting him in a fey mood rather than causing offense, possible her reminder of the broomstick and his knowledge that he would soon possess it was tempering his oft spiky attitude. Thus his answer was very amicable. ”Very true though perhaps I accept we are both judgemental, it is not always a bad thing.” He felt he had almost had an apology from her when she allowed him the right of knowledge for knowledge sake although the tone he replied was mocking he meant no malice by it. ”Thank you I appreciate that.”


Had he reflected he would have to admit he genuinely did appreciate her sharing her secret with him even if he did not enjoy her criticism. His curiosity again stilled him into a perfect listener as she shared the final details and as she spoke he nodded along encouragingly. He wasn’t sure why or how he become so caught up with Rose and her little blood mystery but he was even if some suspicious part of him still wondered if it might be a mighty prank designed to mock him. Despite that he found himself leaning close to her breathing the words with a softness and tentativeness that surprised him. ”Rose if you would like company…” A moment he hesitated then plunged on with the same madness that had held since she had started this whisper of mystery. ”If you would, I offer my companionship.” The last words held that formal stiffness that often came over him when nerves gripped him.

[Deleted]

Even as she spoke, she could see her words weren't having the intended effect. Plus, he seemed to enjoy frustrating her and she simply would not stand for it. With his words, she held her chin a little bit higher after nodding subtly. He really did challenge her, questioning her opinion instead of just accepting it, sticking to his own through it all. As hard-headed as he was, she was probably more, so it was no wonder they seemed to make such an interesting match. "Oh, just go read Animal Farm, will you?" she chuckled to herself, knowing he probably wouldn't have an idea in that pureblooded mind of hers what the bleeding heck an 'Animal Farm' was. "But agree to disagree sounds... agreeable."

"You know, I think I was all wrong about you," she said, leaning slightly on the table holding the broom, green-blue eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "Not that I had much of an idea about you in the first place, but you still managed to surprise me. I might be a bit naive in saying this but, I think, the same could be said for you," she said, wondering why she did. It was strange; from walking into the Great Hall for that first time and having to put on that hat, she was told that being outspoken perhaps wasn't the best to be when she wasn't protected by her last name. So she'd learnt to sort of filter what she said, but it was like this stupid Slytherin boy flipped the switch and she could say what she really thought. And the best part was, she didn't know, not even a little, how he would react to it. People were horribly predictable, but he doesn't even look like people.

She'd shared her secret. To someone she can't even recall ever having a proper conversation with before. The final words passed her lips and she swore she must have imagined the softness of his voice. Rose's eyes, displaying perfectly how touched she was by this offer, this completely unexpected gesture, looked up at his. It was almost as if that last sentence was only put there from some sort of inborn formality. She nodded. She couldn't think of a word to say. That was new.

[Deleted]

The way she held her head, defiant little chin raised reminded him of a hippogriff, all gold and gleaming. Far too proud to relent, despite good sense. Pride was admirable, not that he thought little ‘puff prefect would admit it. Pride was probably one of those ‘sins’ mudbloods worried about. That her next actions was to suggest he read some book about farming just confused him and he allowed himself to look openly baffled while she chuckled to herself. Vainly he fought for a connection between farming and anything they’d spoken about since he’d entered the shop but drawing a blank he gave a genteel nod to her statement of agreeability.


The pitter-patter of words had caught him up and swept him along and swept along he smiled as she spoke. The slow creeping smile, almost smug but not quite the echo of one who has always been brought up to consider himself worthy and despite every miserable piece of evidence to the contrary still has that confidence deep down. He didn’t even know why he was smiling, surely there was no reason he should wish her to be wrong about him? ”Really? It always sounds so much more exciting when someone is wrong about one than right about them.” Perhaps it was having since the age of eleven as much time as possible with Hisspitt his little hunting cat, but pleasure always brought a subtle purr to his voice – as if some how he could lean into the praise he so craved. He didn’t even know what she had thought of him before and yet because he felt she meant is as a compliment, he took it so.


Though his smile faltered when she pushed it further, giving him words he had not spoken, his face stilled and closed, he wished no one to speak for him especially a girl who was practically a mudblood and both as silly and naïve as one. It was irritating, he felt an urge to snap back at her to agree she was naïve a silly fool with silly foolish dreams of a heritage that was more fairy story than fact but even thinking that he realised he couldn’t stoop to such feats of hypocrisy. He has always had foolish dreams, his scrap books of great wizards, his doodles of Gridlewald attested to that and wasn’t to dream of some great heritage a great thing indeed?


It was with this in mind when he rekindled himself, unfrozen, he did not smile but neither did irritation grace his face and he spoke with a neutrality which was not quite a reprimand. “I do not think my opinions have changed Rose Smith but the facts that formed them have and we must always be ready to accept fresh truths.” Even he was aware it was a verbal nothing. A relenting so dressed in frills that his agreement with her could make pretence of being a disagreement. A boys pride is a brittle thing. Yet, the secret, a fairy story all dressed in blood and heritage how could that mystery that thrill so freshly tasted not wash away his pride, yes compared to this pride was all but forgotten. Perhaps having spent so long with felines friends it was only destiny that curiosity would always tempt his fate.


Tied in this secret sharing he could not look away as suddenly she was gazing up at him all calf eyed, calf eyed at him! He sighed not mournfully but with his best pretence of exasperation as if this silliness had nothing to do with him, as if he had not willed her to confined but was merely a worried witch column discovering about another girls silliness. So taking up this role of problem solver and not co-conspirator he took her nod a pure agreement and ploughed into practicalities. ”When then would be suitable for us to pay a visit?” Hi voice was cool again free from his earlier displays or emotion but the tension in his stance was hard to miss, he was eager.