Something Missing Here PV Piper Errand Closed

@Levi Drakos
WC: 731

Valentine's Day was a day that Piper had never really thought about celebrating for herself. At home, Eleanor seemed rather sad and usually couldn't keep herself from locking herself in the office (though there were rare years just the two of them could travel to the country and picnic). Sometimes Piper would just spend the day with her abundance of extra homework, books, or work for the neighbors, or study her zillion plants' anatomy in her room - anything to take her mind off of her father. This year, it hadn't occurred to her that she'd be at Hogwarts on Valentine's Day. And it was sickening.

The streamers around, the mountains of hearts, the colors red and pink (ominous if you asked Piper). Worst of all, the giggling, whispering students who couldn't stop talking about their "crushes." The smirks, the snickers, the blushes, and everything in between were exchanged, and Piper found it tremendously disruptive to her studies, where her grades were ever-slipping. She had worn herself thin attempting to improve her Potions grade, with little success. Additionally, it hadn't even occurred to her that students - students her age - would be interested in participating in romantic activities.

The live snowmen at Christmas had been interesting enough, and Piper had seen for herself how creative (and loud) her peers could be. She most certainly had not felt a sense of wistfulness - not for the insufferable shouting and goofing about, but for the joy she had witnessed in the students' very eyes. What was that like? And more importantly, how did one even go about making friends like Piper's classmates did? Did one party just adopt another? Did both parties meet and one day decide to be close companions for life? Didn't anyone need time by themselves or want to think and..well...exist on their own?

These musings had followed Piper about since well after Christmas, and now the next major holiday had come crashing in. The Valentines Day sugar cookie frosting event had come with it.

Piper loved cookies as much as the next person...especially sugar cookies. However, the fact that this errand came with the attached string (more like ball and chain, Piper sniffed) of being heart-shaped and carried out with peers was almost enough to deter Piper from going. The whole point of frosting the cookie, according to the organizer, was to express love to those dearest to one. Well, Piper would have none of that. Not only did she not have anyone to ask, she had zero interest in inviting someone along to talk her ear off while she tried to focus on the all-important Art of Cookie Decoration. If there are actual hundreds of cookies and students, I'm certain they won't miss one single student frosting one cookie for her own enjoyment.

And so, not having the slightest intention of doing the activity with a fellow decorator, Piper set off to the Great Hall. The sight of the practical mountains of sweet decorations, run by house-elves, and of the trays and trays of cookies was invigorating. It was nearly like Piper was six years old in a sweetshop again. Unfortunately, it seemed the entirety of the population of Hogwarts had also come along, and seating was packed. This was much less than ideal for Piper's large personal space bubble, though she spotted one open seat, near the door at a table. A boy who looked about her age sat closest to the spot, but it was the biggest one available.

And oh, it was so very loud. Chatter from all directions was enough to make Piper grimace as she walked to the seat. That was one of the worst parts of large social gatherings.

Deliberately avoiding eye contact, Piper sat delicately at the edge of her seat. She glanced at the (albeit heart-shaped) cookies in front of her, silently welcoming the aroma of fresh and warm vanilla. As for decoration...Piper observed students asking the house-elves for the supplies they needed. This was a completely new experience for her, and she beckoned a house-elf over uncertainly. After requesting turquoise icing, Piper sat back slightly. She hoped she hadn't done anything wrong. However, after a few seconds, the house-elf had returned. Piper accepted the icing and began to use it on her cookie, though keeping a wary side eye on the boy next to her.

@Piper Clark
WC: 763

Though Levi could not yet figure out what it was, there was something about holidays that brought people together. Tension remained in the air, but a certain tint of sweetness to the scent of disdain made it less threatening, less scary to take beloved breaths in the presence of others, easier to allow peace to come and guards to drop. It was embodied in the way the world subtly changed, a caressing wind carrying delicate cherry blossoms across the waters, or the spiking, piercing ice hanging from the outdoor sill of a frosted window, a smiley face drawn in its fog by passing children. It was heard in laughter, exchanges of once bitten back love. If he could take it from the day, for what did it need it for, and bottle the essence of that spirit up, oh the things he could achieve. Drink it down no matter the begging, for when he spat it back out, there’d be a tongue that could build an empire, and the poor, the weak, they’d thank him.

Dreams of this potion occupied him as he carefully painted the heart-shaped sugar cookie like snow, listening to the sonorous laughter of his peers and envying the affection they exchanged. Not only did holidays have that power he craved, but this one looming near, Valentine’s, it celebrated that emotion as though to dangle it in front of his face. Create affection, revel in it, beautiful but green with envy. It was that color, the Gryffindor then decided, that he would request next from the eager elf, as it was rather fitting and he’d vehemently tired of pink and its worn sense of love. Who decided that was its theme, anyway? And who in the world claims this whimsical shape is a heart at all? It was hardly as bloody as the real thing.

With his short-lived awe painfully morphing into the characteristic repulsion he claims resides in all eleven-year-old boys like a snake lying wait in tall grass, Levi’s gaze peered up once again, searching for a nearby elf to request emerald icing, intending to decorate his snowy cookie with small “hearts”. A sigh fell, his eyes trained on the population of the Great Hall, but flickering back to his hands, wary of the makings of the scars hatred could leave on innocent bodies. There was a desperation blooming in his stare, a longing for spring where life could return from the lethal winter of loathing, and he had to swallow his youth, drag it back to the depths of his veins from which it came. In its place, a smile, grim and forced as though held by his fingertips, the first expression the approaching girl would see.

Behind the girl, weights of indifference, and it was fairly obvious that she hadn’t come to spread love. Whether motivated by sweets, which Levi could understand, he was young and there was no choking back the appetite age bred, or chocolate frogs—not much of a collector, himself—the only thing known for certain is that the rose décor and fond atmosphere lit no candles. Old habits were to always die with the same hesitation that bore them, and the lion’s mind was plagued wondering the story behind that aversion and how it looked twisted upon itself, influenced and changed. Etiquette he’d recently learned bit back that inquisitive tongue but the essence of him, it could not so easily be killed, and he spoke almost immediately after she sat down.

“Hi,” He breathed, picking his next words carefully. “Are you also here for the cookies?” Guesses, guesses, but what more could he do? He was no mind reader, only a novice in the world of body language.

This far into his first year, there were two things he’d learned about interacting with off-putting strangers: one, don’t, and two, if you must, don’t gaze in awe like they put the stars in the sky and the fire in the pits. Charisma didn’t come in never-ending attention and sudden, unconditional love, nor did verbose sentences invoke a sort of pitiful ardor; no one found desperation charming. But even knowing this, there was a long, deadly stretch of road, trying to find out what tuned the heart, opened the ears, made people stop and listen as though your word was their god. In the meantime, attempting to be nonchalant, Levi glanced to the side to kindly beckon an elf once more, absurd politeness still his better bet in that department. “Green icing, please. And, if you may, an assortment of sprinkles, thank you.”

@Levi Drakos
WC: 665

“Hi, are you also here for the cookies?”

The boy next to her which Piper had kept a careful eye on spoke instantly, almost as though he had been waiting for her, in a Scottish accent. He had seemed to be one who noticed her arrival and was dangerously close to talking to her. Honestly. He was taller than she was, and he sported chocolate brown hair. The boy carried a tension with him that made him appear as anxious as Piper felt about attending this crowded event. It was for that reason, and that reason only, that Piper didn't allow herself to release a horrendous burst of sarcasm. However, she did wrinkle her nose in annoyance. Hopefully this wouldn't turn out like the Florian fiasco and the boy would have the good sense to let her be in peace.

"Why else would I be here? It's not as though there's much else to do." Her words came out more harshly than intended, as usual. Though Piper would not be letting all her cannons loose, there was still that bug. Why would someone ask such a stupid question? Was it just for the sake of pointless small talk? And above all, why did people always have such an interest in talking to her? She paused frosting her cookie, which currently contained messy puddles of turquoise icing. Piper hadn't really had much of a game plan for decorating; her only thoughts had been about eating the cookies. The other boy was prompt in ordering his other supplies (and very properly too, Piper observed - he was annoyingly gracious).

Looking about, Piper observed how methodical and creative her peers were in the undertaking of this mission. Designs she never could have imagined were all laid out atop each heart shaped cookie. Suddenly feeling surly, Piper attempted to subtly peer at the other boy's cookie. He was surrounded by multiple colors of frostings. What did he think of her, who had come alone to an errand that had been distinctly directed towards groups? But of course, he seemed to be alone as well. Maybe he had also only come for the cookies, Piper mused. At least he had had the good sense not to ask her where her partner or group was.

With a great sigh, Piper gave in. "Yes. I'm here to eat the cookies. And I wish they weren't heart shaped; it's disgusting and not even close to what a real heart looks like. The whole school shouldn't have to feel pressured to participate in a holiday fueled by nothing more than a single emotion, which is created by random chemicals in the brain."

She had no idea what prompted her to say such a thing, and to a stranger no less. The words simply came out, unwelcoming but not unkindly either. Piper supposed she simply didn't want the boy to get any ideas that she supported Valentines Day by attending the event. A massive hall which smelled like sugar cookies was just not something the eleven-year-old Slytherin could resist. Anything else - dates, even giggling superficially with people claiming to stand by one's side - was both irrelevant and unimportant. She half-awaited the boy's response but paid no more active attention to him, retreating into her mind.

Piper was almost sad thinking of her mother who would not only be without her husband, but without her daughter as well on Valentines Day. Piper made a mental note to write to Eleanor. She then put the thought out of her head, reminding herself to stay in the present. Kindly requesting star-shaped sprinkles from a house elf, she glanced down at her unimpressive cookie and mentally plotted a map of where to put sprinkles. She loved the sweet, crunchy sparkles which balanced the softness of the cookies. Piper supposed she would decorate just two or three, definitely for herself and her mother, if she could transport it of course.

These might be fun to decorate after all.

@Piper Clark
WC: 900

Peace was a funny thing. In came in only the most unexpected places for the most uncannily blazing people; in the pain of others, in the joy of others, in a cool day like a window with light shining brightly through, or in its partnered night, the shadow that loomed ominously on the outer side of that glass, disfigured by its cracks and scratches. Levi didn’t understand that; people comforted by the night, by its will to swallow you whole, and at the very worst, by its foreboding silence. What lurked under the blankets of thick darkness, what crawled in the waist-length grass, what that had no good intentions, what that was not karma off to fetch your debt like a pesky collector?

You would think, perhaps, that if there were one universal peace, it could be the knowledge of love. The hysterical chemical reaction that nonetheless found its use is painting dreary hallways, carving fine trees, costing an absurd amount of money in the case of Levi’s parents and all the checks he’d seen run back and forth. Most importantly, in decorating sugar cookies, which had no role in the divorce of your parents, the way he saw it. But yet, she was harsh, not comforted, she was off-putting and treading on a tightrope marked cruelty on side and ferocity on the other. The boy had been taken aback by her remark, left hand jerking and spilling some snow-toned icing over the edge of the cookie.

A sensible child, we’ve established he was learning the basics of interaction: don’t talk to people who don’t want to be talked to. She fit the profile that haunted a developing enchanter, a rather pretty girl but with this visage of apathy that rivaled a stone statue. Talking to inanimate objects seldom did any good to people so lonely they craved the crowd behind them rather than beside them. Something in the eyes of those born in indifference was unsettling, whether it was the way they seemed to look through you as a man of cellophane, or the subtle manipulation of your unsung symphonies to become pained cries.

But he did as his heart declared, speaking suddenly with urgency, gaze trained either on her or the cookie strapped to the passenger side. It was a right shame that he was of many words but a lethal lack of action. Many fell back on their words, relied on their tongues to build castles then wither and fall off, and Levi simply could not. There was a second startling shift at his side, the approach of an elf with the decorations he’d requested. A muffled yet polite thank you found its way through the mazes of his throat, bringing with it a reply for his partner.

“I hadn’t meant to frustrate you,” An eyebrow quirked, his stare back on the girl and the turquoise sugar cookie being painted by those craving-fueled hands. A stifled laugh would sound between them, the comedic irony of someone with an aura of misery surrounding themselves with the colors that adorned only the brightest places of the ocean and purest pieces of the sky. She was a widow dressed in blinding white.

His own, white with now dashes of green in a diagonal pattern, was designed plainly but not in contrast to the Gryffindor’s personality. All business. It would have to change someday. Besides, the first year would sooner drown than color its sweetness hot pink. Not only was it cliché enough for the dessert of Valentines to be shaped as man’s interpretation of love, but Levi was, above all else, a child and would reiterate his disdain for the color every chance that came. Sure, maturity would own that part of his vined soul eventually, but that day was not today. Perhaps, instead, just over a month from then, on the ides of March.

And you’d have to see it to believe it, but there was a tide of cooperation that slung over the girl, certainly not much older than him but clearly at a completely different phase of life. Whether it was good or bad, who was the boy to say? What could be said with certainty, was her comments were rather entertaining. In a more pleasant fashion, his hand had jerked again but because he’d fallen into a fit of laughter. Now, now, the blonde girl was not exactly wrong, the amusement within her commentary however, that could not be denied by even the most stoic of people.

Once Levi’s chuckles had died down, he put down his tools of decoration and cleared his throat. “I’m almost certain that if these cookies and decorations,” He gestured around, emphasizing his point with a kind smile, “were decorated as accurate human hearts, we’d all be having some intense nightmares this time around. And, all due respect, I think that applies to all emotions.”

Perhaps he’d gone too far. There wasn’t a shred of charisma in an argument, people wanted to be validated, but she appeared so thoroughly bored. A healthy verbal competition could engage the girl with the world once more, and for that, she could thank him later. Nevertheless, there was no room for error. His hand found a few green sprinkles and was scattering them over the sugar cookie, nonchalantly attempting to build bridges over any blooming gaps.

“But I do understand what you mean. Your name?”

@Levi Drakos

Piper felt a hot swell of irritation bubble inside of her. The boy was laughing at her, shaking with mirth. Twice, in fact. His voice echoed much louder than was preferable, and she adjusted her face into a dark squint. Piper's mood had not matched the general aura of the room previously, but now even more so. The fact that her cookie was quickly forming into a disaster was not helping in the slightest.

Of course he hadn't meant to frustrate her; it seemed many claimed this very thing. The truth of these statements, though, was never quite revealed to Piper in her general state of annoyance. However, some clearly meant their apologies more than others. For instance, if one were to state such a thing as not intending to frustrate Piper, then he would likely put on a much more believable act if he did not laugh in her face and attempt to discredit her opinions not five minutes after.

The truth? Piper had no idea why she was truly annoyed up until this point, when she actually had something to be angered about. Likely it was the simple fact that a boy had attempted to cookie-decorate with her when she had plans all laid out for doing it alone and without the company so many others craved.

“I’m almost certain that if these cookies and decorations were decorated as accurate human hearts, we’d all be having some intense nightmares this time around. And, all due respect, I think that applies to all emotions.”

Nonsense. Piper paused putting stars around the edges of her cookie heart to stare at this dauntless boy, who had had the audacity to sit next to her and laugh, and then disagree with her in a supremely proper way. He had a sportive smile playing about his lips, as though he hoped to accomplish something. It was a good thing Piper did not intend to destroy his plants in Herbology as she had with a certain other someone. Not today, at least. She turned back to her stars, now complete along the border of the dripping turquoise cookie. In fact, she unwillingly felt the corner of her own mouth begin to turn up - a debate was exactly her speed.

As Piper thought long and hard about what she could possibly say to his response, she took another plain sugar cookie and began to attempt to dress it in red frosting. She had learned her lesson with icing. "I wouldn't." she retaliated at last, voice sharp but not necessarily angry. "I would appreciate the accuracy instead of an odd geometrical shape. And, of course all emotions begin in the brain. That is precisely why they are not to be trusted at all." She very ironically was surprised someone could have this knowledge and still proceed to make their life's decisions based on what they felt.

Piper considered her own words a bit further. The balance of emotion and the human ability to reason was a fine but delicate one - one she had never been able to achieve or appreciate. Perhaps it was this truth that made Piper so resentful towards the others who did understand this wonderful, terrible contrast. Yes, the books were a particularly fantastic method of achieving excellence and contentedness, but something in Piper was always missing. There was something about even the smartest students in her House, whereupon they simply...enjoyed the presence of other people. Piper had known this feeling with just one person; her mother.

Piper looked up once again. After all of this, the boy wanted her name, smiling. She felt slightly resentful toward this, as he had offended her twice already. Piper searched the details of his face, making direct eye contact. At last, she determined he simply wanted to make acquaintances; he had established he was that sort. The sort that was ridiculously proper with their etiquette.

It didn't really matter, so long as he didn't rat her out; she would show him more courtesy than he had shown her in this conversation. Her mother would expect no less. "Clark, Piper Clark." she said as quickly as humanly possible. "But if anyone asks, which I doubt they will, I was never here." She refused to live her life as a Hogwarts delinquent this early in her academic career.