A Charm Between Pages
Nova stood in the Courtyard, gripping the spine of her newest book. She had finally managed to get her father to mail it to her from home, because Merlin knows she always forgot something important. At least this time, her father had been merciful enough to send it to her. It was a new book. One she had gotten a few days before Summer Camp but hadn't taken with her.
She glanced around and spotted an empty bench close by and started to walk towards it, swerving through a group of giggling first years as they watched a cat purr at their ankles. She smiled at the sight as it reminded her of Oreo. She had slowly recovered from her grief when he had died, but some days she missed him.
The warm wind of September ruffled her hair as she finally reached the bench, settling down to the side. Sounds of laughter breezed through the Courtyard, along with the occasional chattering and complaints from her peers. She opened her book, lifting it to smell the pages. There was nothing like the unique smell of new books, especially when reading them for the first time.
Nova ran her hands over the spine again like she had done when she first saw it in the small bookstore she had gotten it from. She took a deep breath, the sweet scent of flowers and books merging as she began to read.
Thoughts - Italic ~ Nova's Speech - #a88400 ~ Rafal's speech - #044503
NOTES:@ Rafal DevereuxWORD COUNT: 239/200 wordsForward dated to September 11, 2025
A Charm Between Pages
Oh no, oh no, oh no! Rafal rushes throughout the common room, hastily gathering his things and throwing them all into the jumbled mess that is his satchel. His usual fastidiousness has seemingly been tossed into the Great Lake conveniently located right above the Slytherin quarters. All but flinging himself out into the dungeon corridors, he stumbles into the opposite wall before using the momentum to push himself off and away. To a casual onlooker, the second year might as well be flying.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! The poor boy is very much late, and to a wildly important appointment too! He has been awaiting this meeting for a long time, and shudders to think of the repercussions of his uncharacteristic tardiness. Right now, Rafal’s only hope is to get to their agreed spot as soon as he can, and hope dearly that the Fates shall smile upon him this day.
Slowing to to a brisk pace as he approaches the Courtyard, Rafal takes deep breaths and tries to steel himself for what is to come. Is he ready for this next step? This responsibility that shall soon come? And does his hair look all right? He reflexively reaches up a hand and rakes fingers through his blonde locks, in a perhaps futile attempt to neaten what has been rendered frightfully disheveled by his earlier haste. As he does so, the Slytherin looks absently around.
Then stops, right in his tracks and making someone behind smack straight into him. Ignoring their grumbles of displeasure, Rafal stares, tranfixed.
It is not her looks. Not to say, of course, that the girl is not exceptionally pretty - with her ruffled ombré hair and sun-kissed skin, no one could ever deem her anything else. But that is not what stands out about her, not what draws one’s eye immediately to her in a crowd of others seemingly so similar. If asked, Rafal himself could not even explain it. There is just something so distinct, so distracting about the girl - her demenour, the way she holds herself, the confidence and comfort in her own skin which is evident even from so far away?
Rafal does not understand, but he knows he wants to talk to her, to have her simply look at him, more than anything else in the world. Any thoughts relating to his supremely significant meeting have floated up and away. Surely, it will not hurt to speak a few words.
Steeling his nerve, he walks to where the mystery girl is sitting on a bench to the side of the courtyard. It feels like barely a blink, and he is there in front of her, the latter of which is still wholly engrossed in her book. Rafal feels his heart crawl to his throat.
Before he can likely realize that this is an awful idea and run far, far away, Rafal says loudly, "Hello!" A pregnant pause where he struggles to break through the foggy haze his mind has become, then it is followed by a most eloquent, "Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?"
Interacting with @Nova Astron
All your blues like a mood ring changing colours
A Charm Between Pages
Nova sat on the stone-cold bench, book open on her lap as she read. It was quiet in the courtyard now, amidst the soft mutterings of conversation. The sun was covered by clouds, making it an overcast day. It was one of the days where Nova felt like she could just breathe in peace.
She leaned back, relaxing her body as she fiddled with the edge of the page. She wasn't the kind of person to dog-ear her book pages. That was something horrendous to do, in her opinion.
As she turned another page, she heard sharp footsteps thudding on the stone ground before skidding to a stop. She hadn't bothered to look up, too engrossed in her own activities when she felt a presence near her and a rather loud, "Hello!"
She lifted her head and noticed a disheveled looking boy. His hair was mussed, and his shirt askew. Despite seeming like he had ran through all the floors of Hogwarts and been chased by three suits of armor, Nova smiled.
"Yeah, I guess it's nice," she replied, shifting on her seat. She noticed he was breathing heavily and motioned to the place next to her with a nod of her head. "You should sit down; you look like you were running from a rogue ghost with a grudge."
Thoughts - Italic ~ Nova's Speech - #a88400 ~ Rafal's speech - #044503
NOTES:@ Rafal DevereuxWORD COUNT: 220/200 wordsForward dated to September 11, 2025
A Charm Between Pages
Rafal lets out a shaky laugh. "That’s not too far off, actually." He hesitates for a second at the girl’s invitation, eyes darting about the length of the bench in a havering manner. Then he realizes he is overthinking once again and quickly drops down next to her. Come on Rafal, nobody cares which part of the slab of stone you sit on!
Self-consciously smoothing down his clothes and hair (though at this point, they have passed to the other side and nothing short of a miracle will bring them back), Rafal turns so that he is facing the girl next to him. He opens his mouth to speak, then after pausing for a moment, closes it again haltingly. Huh. It seems that the second year has, uncharacteristically, not planned this far ahead.
Well, he can’t just plonk himself there and then stare at her like a lemon! Got to say something, anything. "I love your hair!" Rafal blurts out. He blinks in disarray at those entirely unprecedented words. Scrambling, he adds, "Not in a weird, creepy way! I just mean, it’s very.. blonde and.. brown? And curly!" He nods his head somewhat portentously. "It’s very curly."
It is like watching a slow train-wreck, but Rafal feels as if he is on the tracks instead of smack in front of the controls in the front cab, observing the calamity unfold in a strange, horrific haze. The Slytherin is vaguely aware that he is rambling utter tosh, yet cannot manage to bring himself to slam on the brakes. Is he honest-to-god, going on about her hair?
Interacting with @Nova Astron
All your blues like a mood ring changing colours
A Charm Between Pages
Nova raised an eyebrow at the boy who sat there, looking like he wasn’t sure whether to speak again or combust. She tilted her head at the compliment, a small and incredulous laugh escaping her. “I’d say thank you if they actually cooperated with me instead of doing whatever it wanted.” She said, tugging on a stray curl that decided to possibly defy gravity.
“Everyone always tells me that I’m so lucky to have curly hair,” she continued, eyes flickering to the boy’s own tousled curls. “But they have no idea how much I go through every morning just to get it like this. And if I even try to use a different shampoo, it rages war on me like I committed a crime.”
She huffed out another small snicker, like even she knew it was a bit ridiculous. But she didn’t care, she was in too deep to stop now. “There’s a whole system for it, too. Products, techniques, maybe the moon phase. And it frizzes all the time if I’m not careful.” She sighed loudly, book forgotten on her lap.
She finally looked back at the boy and her eyes narrowed, mildly accusatory as she gazed at his hair. At the completely unfair, perfectly messy mop of blonde curls like he’d just woken up from a nap on a cloud. “How did you do that?” She asked, tone laced with envy.
Thoughts - Italic ~ Nova's Speech - #a88400 ~ Rafal's speech - #044503
NOTES:@ Rafal DevereuxWORD COUNT: 233/200 wordsForward dated to September 11, 2025
A Charm Between Pages
As the girl goes on and on in her tangent about the tedious care procedures imperative for curly hair, Rafal nods throughout and tries to look like he knows what she is talking about. When she gets to the part about the moon phase, he forces himself to let out a tentative laugh. That is meant to be a joke, right?
The Slytherin’s eyes widen as she fixes a caramel-coloured gaze on him and demands for his hair routine. "Oh! Uh - I - I mean, this," he reflexively reaches a hand up to his head and scrambles to form a coherent sentence. The accusatory tone is not helping in Rafal attempting to recall - well, anything, least of all a nonexistent anything.
"I think my hair just does that, itself,” his gaze flickers toward the girl, trepidatious. "Like, naturally. Good genes, I suppose?" He is almost entirely sure that is not the answer she is seeking. The second year is not one to pay too much heed toward his appearance - sure, the basic tidiness and hygiene requirements are a necessity, but anything beyond that? The news that apparently, the state of his flaxen locks are something to be desired is quite new and a rather unforeseen development.
Letting his hand fall to his side, Rafal struggles to think of how to sustain this conversation. Continuing to rattle on about his immensely amenable hair might come off somewhat supercilious, and he so wants to make a good impression! He finds that he is frowning.
Suddenly, an idea occurs. "Hey, I just realized!" The almost instantaneous shift in the boy’s demeanour may be described as jocularly disconcerting to an onlooker. Perking up, Rafal reaches quite keenly into his satchel. He peers at the girl, grin slowly growing on his face. After rummaging in the chaotic heap for a few moments, he extracts a long, thin object from the bag’s depths and presents it to his companion with a triumphant air. It is his wand.
Rafal scrambles to explain. "Look, we’re all magic here, yeah? With all the stupid and useless spells we’ve come up with, there’s no way there isn’t one for taming hair. All we have to do is find it!” He pauses for a second, considering. ”In fact, I think there’s something in the Transfiguration syllabus for this year?" Racking his brain, the Slytherin tries to recollect the details of the spell which he had (probably) skimmed over in the textbook earlier. "Okay, I can’t really remember the exact details right now," he admits, "but there definitely is one!"
Interacting with @Nova Astron
All your blues like a mood ring changing colours
A Charm Between Pages
Nova’s eyes widened incredulously as the boy said his hair just—cooperated? Without acting like it was being accused of multiple crimes and, possibly, anger issues? It was unbelievable. Here, right in front of Nova, was a prime and clear example that life wasn’t fair and favoured some people over others. She felt betrayed, even cheated, of the opportunity to have such obedient hair.
About to accuse the boy of bribing someone, Nova was interrupted when the boy brandished his wand in front of her with a grin. The action was so surprising, Nova blinked for a moment while the boy explained the fact magic existed and Nova hadn’t ever thought of using it to tame her stubborn locks. Her jaw dropped slightly at the mention of a spell, feeling a mix of exasperation and amusement in one.
“You’re telling me that, in twelve years of my life where I suffered, I could’ve fixed it with a wave of my wand?” She leaned back, eyebrows raised. “Honestly? That’s kind of insulting. To me. Personally.” But she was grinning back. Nova shifted on the bench, finally picking her book off of her lap and precisely putting in a bookmark before setting it down next to her.
She turned to the boy next to her, looking amused. “Are you gonna point that at my head and hope for the best?” She asked dryly, eyes flickering from his face to the wand in his hand. “Because I’m not volunteering to be a test subject, just to let you know. I might not like my hair’s attitude all that much, but I’d like to keep it.”
Thoughts - Italic ~ Nova's Speech - #a88400 ~ Rafal's speech - #044503
NOTES:@ Rafal DevereuxWORD COUNT: 272/200 wordsForward dated to September 11, 2025