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Posted: Apr 16 2017, 01:18 PM
It had been a good day. Had being the operative word. Then she had turned down the wrong corridor at the wrong time and come face to face with August Maynwaring. She could have kept walking, in fact she should have. But no, he was up to something, he almost always was, and she had acted against her better judgment and stopped. She wasn't entirely sure at the time if she paused out of curiosity or to try and prevent whatever the Gryffindor was planning. But before she knew it, she, and half the corridor, was covered in ink, teachers were swarming and she had landed in detention despite her protestations.
She managed to siphon most of the ink off herself and out of her clothes, but still made promptly for her dormitory to change into something she knew was clean. Streaks of ink were still hidden in her thick hair, occasionally showing themselves to her curious housemates while she ate her dinner. And then at half past six she made her miserable way to the trophy room.
She scrubbed slow circles into the silver and brass and gold, a scowl permanently on her face. The teacher had long since stopped paying attention to her and her detention partner, his nose stuck in a book, and the smell of the polish was cloying at her nose. It could have been worse, she could have been stuck mucking out the stables or scrubbing out cauldrons. But she shouldn't have even been here. Something bad always seemed to happen whenever she saw August. No matter how hard she tried throughout the years to avoid the seventh year he always seemed to pop up when she least wanted him to, tormenting her life. She really should have just kept walking.
@August Maynwaring | outfit
Posted: Apr 21 2017, 06:59 PM
Polaris had been skipping along beside August, for once opting to use his own legs over his preferred method of riding along on his master's shoulders. In hindsight that should have sent up all sorts of red flags. Polaris separated himself from the seventh year so rarely that sometimes he wondered if the cat needed to be physically attached to him to breathe. It was anyone's guess what the hairy pain was hunting, his nose pressed as far as he could get it into the corner where the wall met the floor, but frankly August didn't care, especially once he noticed Tori Carroll headed up the corridor with him. The Gryffindor rolled his shoulders, a whole mess of comments rolling through his head as he searched for the perfect way to irritate the girl. She made it so easy! But before he had even managed to get to the angry, pulsating center of his confrontation there had been a pop, a splatter, and a startled mewl, and the corridor was swimming in ink.
What August would have given for a timeturner. Or even a less rambunctious cat. At least Tori was as much on the hook for it as he was.
Half six came too quickly that evening, not that August felt the least bit of urgency dogging him as he loitered about the grand hallway on the ground floor. If anyone truly missed him in detention they would have made a better effort to herd him there on time, and as no one had even bothered to poke a head over the banisters and shout his name surely that meant he was free to show up at his leisure.
The Gryffindor arrived at the trophy room somewhere over half an hour late to much disapproval and a glare sharper than a horntail's aptly-named appendage from the professor in charge. Unsurprisingly his Hufflepuff co-conspirator had already set to work. She had even cleaned herself off beforehand. Honestly, where did people find the time? August whistled, quirking an eyebrow at her in the sliver of time he had before their supervisor descended on him with the weight of an extra detention or two hanging on his words. But getting punishment to stick to August was always a futile effort. He shrugged each threat off with the icy look of deliberate nonchalance, and when the professor questioned his whereabouts he offered a rigid insistence that the staircases had refused to let him past the second floor. The twitch of his lip dared anyone within earshot to prove he was lying until finally the professor huffed back to his previous post.
Satisfied with what he would unquestionably consider a victory, August saw to finding himself a comfortable spot to wait out the rest of "his" punishment. It wasn't hard--there were enough shelves and glass cases dotted around the room to obscure a troll if someone wanted to try hard enough, and at 5'6" the comparison really stopped after "humanoid". People tended to dislike the idea of being short, but it could present plenty of benefits if you wanted to play the part badly enough. Settling on a cozy little alcove between two grand-looking stands, the seventh year slipped out of sight as quietly as he could, stopping only briefly to brush past Tori and grab a small bronze cup off a nearby shelf. He smirked. It was hardly a trophy, but it would serve as a fair cover if the professor decided to check up on him unexpectedly. With that everything was settled, and the Gryffindor dropped to his seat and didn't budge again for who even knew how long. To his pleasure this spot also gave him a clear view of Tori reflected in a gold shield set directly across from him. "Missed a spot." August crooned.