Closed Artistic Accident PV Fearghal

Reducio

@Alexandria Clark
Sorry for such a delayed response!!

Fearghal had always been a morning person. His family was the type to seize the day, and the perfect start to a day well-seized was rising early! Plus, the young Gryffindor had been sleeping horribly ever since arriving at Hogwarts, so he looked forward to when the morning finally rolled around so he could leave the dormitory and set out for whatever the new day brought.

As per usual, the first thing Fearghal chose to do on this fine morning was to take a nice walk. It was a good way to wake up the body and mind. While most of the boy's time wandering the castle was spent exploring every inch of it, morning walks were a time for routine, and in the time since school had begun, the young Gryffindor had perfected the route he walked every morning. It was just enough time to truly feel awake but not so long that he grew bored or tired again. But despite how regular the day seemed upon first rising, Fearghal was quickly met with something irregular. A girl seemed to have dropped her things on the floor.

'She must be really clumsy for her things to have gone all over the place like this,' he thought to himself as he bent down to pick up the paint brush as requested. His hand paused just before he picked up the item, then retracted as Fearghal dug into his pocket and quickly pulled out a handkerchief. With the small cloth covering his hand, he finally retrieved the paintbrush and held it out to the girl.

"You really should be more careful. Nothing good ever comes of being clumsy like this. Imagine if you'd fallen while walking down the grand staircase. There would've only been pieces of you left by the time you hit the ground floor," he said plainly, his Irish accent strong as ever.

"What did you put in your bag? It looked like artwork, and you're not supposed to fold artwork in on itself like that, you know. It could ruin it." Not the friendliest of introductions, perhaps, but Fearghal wasn't one to hold back his thoughts very much.

─────Alex curiously watched the blond boy's process of picking up her paintbrush. He went to grab it but then seemed to think better of it and pulled out a handkerchief which his used to pick up the brush. I- alright then... She laughed quietly, finding his action to be a tad amusing. Does he think he's going to contract clumsiness from touching my paintbrush?

She stood and accepted the brush from him and barely managed to get out a "thank you" before he began talking. As he spoke, Alex took a moment to observe the boy, he had curly blonde hair, wore circular glasses, and his eyes were a dark brown, similar to her own. He also had a rather strong Irish accent, which was quite apparent in his speech. She chuckled dryly at his comment about her falling down the grand staircase, I'd prefer that over my painting being ruined.

The young girl's breath hitched at the mention of her painting, "I know that!" she said defensively, "It's already been ruined though." Alex gestured to the sleeve of her sweater, a mixture of red, orange, white, and yellow was smeared across it, ruining her light brown sweater. "There's not much of a point in trying to preserve my painting if it's already beyond repair," she muttered.

Alex got a weird vibe from the kid in front of her. The manner in which he spoke reminded her slightly of how some of the kids her parents would force her to talk to at their rich people gatherings. They acted as if it was a competition to see who could sound the smartest in their way of speaking. He's likely from some rich bloodline.

"I'm Alexandria, by the way, heir of the Clark bloodline, blah blah blah, all that boring rich people talk," she said, growing tired of the way her parents made her introduce herself to others. "Anyway, it's nice to meet you.... um, sorry, what's your name?"