Can't Win for Losin' PV Dennis

Dennis hadn’t made it very far. His jaw still aching from a chance encounter with a fist belonging to the scariest ball of black, madness, and fury he had ever witnessed. An altercation that began over a simple misunderstanding. Sure, he had stumbled into the girl and effectively, for the time being, ruined whatever combination of horror and bleakness it was that she called a dress. In fact, in hindsight, he had made it better by giving her a splash of color! For the pleasure of fixing her drip, she nearly barbecued him like the roast pig he could spell across the way!

Yeah. Yeah, that’s right! He was doing her the favor. And once he got to his feet he had even tried to clear the air. He offered to help clean that unsightly mess of an outfit for her. He just asked he give it to him for cleaning…oh. OH. Ok, maybe he did, now that he thought better of it, deserve to be smacked a good one. At any rate, he licked his now melting treat to try to keep up. The ice cream was actually pretty good!

He was shocked out of his internal recap that he felt he needed even though everything literally just happened, by a voice. He turned to see a boy he had not recognized, not that he recognized anyone in this motley crew of summer camp. At first it was a great thing, but given the bad time he just had, he wasn’t so sure anymore. He seemed…chill and maybe a little bit too self-assured, but hey, Dennis could be charged with the same crime.

Dennis shrugged at the question, rubbed his jaw, wincing from the pain and went back to his ice cream. “Yeah, I’m good. Just a little misunderstanding,” Dennis mumbled. He smacked his lips together. “Nothing a little ice cream won’t solve. Unless, you have something better than ice cream,” he added almost absentminded though seriously what could be a better recovery.

@Alphonse Toussaint

♕- Afternoon of Aug. 19, 2025 | Campgrounds, London Quidditch Stadium -♕

A slight grimace found his lips in empathy with the boy's pain.

Oblivious was Alphonse regarding what happened between the red-haired boy and the numinous leather-clad girl, only knowing how it ended, but that was enough for him to engage further. "Girl troubles? Had that happen a lot of times," Alphonse replied with a humored grin, his oak-brown gaze lingered on the ice cream for a mere second—his appetite clouding his hazy mind, but also debating how much to divulge with a stranger.

"First breakup with a girl, she kicked me in the-" he abruptly paused to shudder, "Gods.."

The memory alone was enough to bring on a wave of phantom pains, and his hand slid into his pants' pocket to subliminally withdraw a pack of cigarettes, then nodded towards a secluded area free of busybodies.

"You smoke?" Alphonse asked once they had created some distance, out of earshot of anyone who could overhear or snitch.

Admittedly, the Toussaint boy wasn't familiar with the cigarette's brand, yet was no stranger to the vice. The case that embroidered with 'Marlboro' was the result of a barter between him and an Ilvermorny upperclassman, right under his now-former Headmaster-father's nose. A couple of unopened packs of the red-colored Marlboros in exchange for two dozen of his mother's famous tamales. Luckily for Alphonse, the older Ilvermorny student had sweetened the deal by bestowing a Muggle lighter in addition to the contrabanded goods. The contraption proved especially useful after he tragically scorched 3 cigarettes back to back with an unpracticed Lumos and Incendio spell.

Now, the usage was second nature. Smacking the pack against his hand, he jostled the pack until a cigarette peeked out and brought it to his lips, then offered the pack to the red-haired boy if he chose to partake.

"So, you enjoying this camp so far? Beats the snow-theme from last year," Alphonse said, an attempt to start an idle conversation while offering the lighter.

——mentions. @Dennis Tumberton

“Popcorn,” Dennis said to a vendor stopping at a stand, having finished his ice cream, watching, more than listening, to his new companion as he winced through a short recollection of his relationship woes.

“Actually, I have rather great luck with the ladies,” he said simply, now offering his fellow student some of the popcorn. If there were snacks to be had, Dennis was always one to have them in his hands even if he only ever realized he had them afterward.

“I was the one to end things, in fact,” he added, not really bothering to separate his relationship with Meyra from whatever the other witness from his run in with the other girl. Very plausible that it would be concluded that he meant that literal spitfire.

At this point he offered a cigarette. Before, Dennis would have never ever considered such a thing as acceptable, but between the breakup and nearly being roasted, he didn’t have the will or desire to decline. “I do now,” he said as he took it, forgoing the lighter.

Putting it in his mouth he started to eat it. The flecks of the ground tobacco and paper coating his teeth, he coughed and spat the cigarette out. He looked as the other student lit and puffed. “Ok…so it’s not for snacking,” he said mid-cough instinctively reaching for another.

“I’m Dennis, by the way. You?” He introduced himself, successfully not eating the cigarette should his companion choose to give him one. Looking around, a large popcorn in hand as they munched, he realized perhaps there might be a quieter place to go. “Maybe we can get out of here and chill somewhere.”

@Alphonse Toussaint

♕- Afternoon of Aug. 19, 2025 | Campgrounds, London Quidditch Stadium -♕

"Ah, thanksmesi," Alphonse uttered in gratitude when the red-haired boy offered his freshly-made popcorn.

Forming a small bowl with his cupped hand, the Toussaint boy munched quietly between drags of his illuminated cigarette and sighed internally as some of the cravings leftover from his time with Siobhan were at long last sated. Alphonse nodded along to his new companion's words while reminiscing his own former time at Castelobruxo. He didn't have bad luck with the ladies there, per se. All the girl troubles endured of the past were simply because Alphonse himself was trouble. Whether that was him being too nonchalant, getting bored, or being too friendly with others—none of those relationships really seemed to bode well for the boy.

Not that it truly mattered in the end.

His expulsion from the Brazilian magical school was inevitable between Alphonse's penchant for fighting and piss-poor grades, but Ilvermorny offered an array of new prospects. All of whom went eventually unexplored after Alphonse met Geneviève a month later. There was a stirring inside him that made Alphonse want to be better for her—perhaps it was sense knocked into the Toussaint boy after her three older brothers beat his ass, or the death threats from his mom. Even so, regardless of Alphonse's matured approach, things between him and the Beaubaxton Duellist weren't perfect; a small chasm had formed between them ever since the hellfire that erupted amid Hogwarts' Spring ball, but the Toussaint boy wouldn't dwell too heavily on it now.

Raising a skeptical brow at the red-haired boy's words, Alphonse questioned: "You ended things? With her?-" he nodded behind them, into the direction where the cranky, leather-clad girl [Maria] had drifted off to, "-or with someone else?"

Once his popcorn was devoured, the Haitian boy ran a greasy hand over his jeans and glanced as the red-haired boy proceeded to eat the cigarette. His mouth hung agape for a moment, dumbfounded and a touch mortified.

"Uh..non. It's not for snacking," he muttered in return. He paused a moment, as if taking a moment to wrap his mind around what Alphonse had just witnessed.

"Alphonse," the Toussaint boy finally said, offering the lighter yet again, "Yeah, my mom's tent is this way. She had to leave camp a few days ago. Her water broke a week early or something."

Leading the way, Alphonse entered the familiar, semi-abandoned tent that remained oddly in use between his and Siobhan's occasional getaways. Potted plants and jarred herbs covered a small portable table; even at the finish line of her pregnancy, Sarai never halted her research, and the setting looked as if the woman would return any second. He took a seat on the ground, his back leaning against the singular bed.

"I'm gonna guess you attend Hogwarts?" Alphonse inquired, sparking another cigarette when the last one neared the end of its life.

——mentions. @Dennis Tumberton

The ever peckish Ravenclaw wiped the remaining flecks of tobacco off his tongue. That would be the last time he eagerly put anything new in his mouth without thought again! Though, probably, knowing Dennis, it would not be the last time. Ignoring, for now, the question about the girl. There might be time to moan about the finer sex later…

“Alphonse?” The teenager seemed to be tasting the name. He took the cigarette and accepted the light. He made his second mistake by taking a sharp long inhale of the cigarette and nearly gagged as his lungs filled up with a stuffy burning sensation. Still coughing, his eyes burning, he said, “…fonz, these are really something!” Of course he meant ‘Alphonse’ but the smoke cut off the word to an abbreviation.

Without much of a word as smoke slowly continued to escape with every gasp, he followed his new acquaintance away from where they were standing. “Mother’s tent?” He finally asked as they arrived at the tent. Before Alphonse could answer, Dennis saw all the plants.

“Your mom is Professor Toussaint!?” Now it was his turn to go slack jawed, only closing his mouth to take a more modest puff at his cig, now a little bit afraid of the thing. He quietly considered how much of what was in the tent could also be smoked. Did he already have a problem? “I’m a third year at Hogwarts yeah. Ravenclaw,” the redhead said absentmindedly as he stared around the tent feeling a little bit more intimidated. Wait…was the snake here too?

He suddenly remembered, taking a seat and mindlessly making himself at home, still trying to tolerate the taste of his cigarette, “You seem to also have some experience with…break ups?”

@Alphonse Toussaint

♕- Afternoon of Aug. 19, 2025 | Campgrounds, London Quidditch Stadium -♕

Beaming a feigned grin at Dennis, the smile didn't quite meet his eyes—in truth, his mind was struggling to play catch-up with all the sudden changes of new siblings and yet another new school.

"Yup, that's mama," he drawled after a melancholous sigh and dual torrents of smoke from his flared nostrils, "I'm still kinda nervous to be her and my tio Akeem's student, if I'm honest."

The words from his lips were a half-truth—barely a fraction of the Haitian boy's sentiments at best. His cerebral cortex lingered more on missing his classmates and the exhausting notion of starting over the closer the days approached September 1st, but he'd play it cool in the company of this Dennis though. Perhaps it'd curry favour once Alphonse had his standing at Hogwarts.

Mostly commenting to himself, Alphonse finally broke the silence with a “I used to think it was gross” while removing the illuminated fag from his mouth and holding it between his fingers. His downcast gaze inspected it introspectively and followed up with a: "But I was told once that 'life is too short not to partake in a vice now and then. Not because it's good or bad, but because you are in control over your life.'"

To avoid rambling from his still-lingering euphoria from his kickback with Siobhan in the same very tent he and Dennis now resided in, Alphonse realized his curiosity remained unsatiated as of yet. The boy's inquiry regarding Dennis' education had gone unanswered, but rather than Alphonse being initially irked, his brown-hued gaze softed sublty with empathy as Dennis took a drag—a bit too long if the Haitian teen daresay—of the roll of indulgence. It hadn't been all that long ago when the Toussaint boy found himself heaving up lungs at his first experience with the small joy at Ilvermorny, but the amusement illuminated in his gaze as Alphonse swiftly brought the cigarette to his lips to avoid the chuckle that threatened to come out.

But soon Dennis did reply once his coughing tempered, and the former-Wampus nodded as if the word "Ravenclaw" made sense in his mind. It didn't. But before Alphonse could probe, Dennis had a question of his own: breakups.

“A bit more than I'd like,” he admitted with a playfully exaggerated sigh and swift drag of the cigarette, finally letting up and offering him an amused smile, "You?"

——mentions. @Dennis Tumberton

Alphonse didn’t seem to let anything bother him. He seemed a cool stoic figure reclining in the dense foliage of the tent where, at any moment, a giant snake may make them a delicious treat. Dennis thought though his red hair must make him spicy and unappetizing. At least, that is what he told himself. Still a bit nervous whether from the nicotine rush or the fact he had never been so close to the Herbology professor, Dennis positioned himself to the edge of the chair while listening. “This is our first year with Care of Magical Creatures,” he offered not really ever having paid attention that the two professors shared a surname. Must be related after all he thought with some amusement. Perhaps he was as scary as the other.

His thoughts, before they ran away with him, returned to Alphonse telling him about his first experience with a cigarette. Now, absentmindedly, his mind commanded him to put the cig back in his mouth and before he knew it he was puffing on it like a seasons pro. “I mean, it just gets taking used to.” He agreed. “I don’t think they are half bad. Just that first one…sheesh.” He quietly hoped Alphonse would think he was talking bout his first drag and not the one he tried to eat.

Alphonse nodded politely to Dennis’ introduction of both his year and house but when he didn’t return the favor he was guessing either the other boy went to a different school or was new to Hogwarts. “So, at Hogwarts,” he began helpfully, exhaling smoke now as if he was a gangster in the 1920s, “You get sorted in to houses. Ravenclaw are all smartasses. Gryffindor is supposedly brave but they are more or less bungling idiots. Hufflepuff do little more than lick trees and eat glue. Slytherin are too busy…well let’s just say they are really into themselves.” Dennis accompanied this with some sort of gesture. What did this cigarette do to him!? Who was he becoming! “Are you coming to Hogwarts?”

On the topic of breakups, Dennis slouched in his chair and looked forlornly into the middle distance. If it wasn’t obvious he was experiencing his first break up it was written clearly on his face as he let the cigarette continue to burn slowly between his fingers resting on the arm of the chair. “We broke up at the end of the last school year. Supposed to be mutual…for both our benefit but it doesn’t really seem that way…”

@Alphonse Toussaint

♕- Afternoon of Aug. 19, 2025 | Campgrounds, London Quidditch Stadium -♕

The not-so-eloquent explanation prattled from Dennis' mouth beckoned interest and painted a picture of Hogwarts' culture in his mind's eye; the house system was not lost upon the boy hailing from Ilvermorny.

Heeding every word with contained amusement and curiosity. Smartasses, bungling idiots, tree-lickers and glue-eaters, or egocentrics — the four houses of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. How grand, how strange. Had the red-haired boy not already stated his affiliation with Ravenclaw, Alphonse would have left to ponder why Dennis hadn't been sorted to Hufflepuff. Eating cigarettes didn't seem all that far off from licking trees and eating glue, the Toussaint boy mused to himself. The longer the swift and formerly barbaric memory lingered and replayed within the pubescent, immature boy's cerebrum, the harder it was to conceal the faint, amused smile behind the Marlboro cigarette that protruded casually between the Haitian's thinly closed lips.

Owing to the smartaleck explanations by Ravenclaw's very own 3rd year cigarette-muncher, the former-Wampus had cultivated an acute understanding of the flows and ties woven throughout the Scottish wizarding institution far more vividly. Sitting in silence for a moment to prophesize his own future, the boy was beginning to believe this next year was beginning to show signs of promise, at least within Alphonse's mind. A little less than two weeks before his sorting at Hogwarts, and yet the Toussaint boy seemingly already was fitting in quite too well, though the unanswered question had lingered within his psyche of where he'd be sorted to.

Unlike Dennis Tumberton, Alphonse didn't put random shit in his mouth, and Siobhan McCarty and Raizel Voltrouz, both Gryffindors, didn't appear like idiots — at least in Alphonse's short time of knowing them, anyway. Clearly, the ceremony wasn't very foolproof, but the question remained. Undeniably, the Toussaint progeny was equal parts a smartass, self-absorbed, and admittedly an idiot all at once, so where would that leave him?

That had been where his mind was, as he nodded along with little regard for replying immediately to Dennis and simply toked in silence until the red-haired Raveclaw probed for information. Offering a casual nod in exchange for the piece of advice the other wizard had bestowed upon Alphonse, the Haitian teen smoothly pried the roll of indulgence from his lips and exhaled a waft of acrid smoke.

"Yeah, I'll be transferrin' there," the boy started with a feigned countenance of nonchalantness, then added, "I used to attend Castelobruxo.. then Ilvermorny."

Subtle pangs of worry and guilt silently rotted within the deep recesses of the Haitian's mind, yet outwardly he'd school his features into a comfortable mask resembling something between arrogance and boyish insouciance that was Alphonse's specialty. Clasping his mind shut from revealing too much nervousness or regret on the surface, he found his mind burying the notion away and instead fixated on Dennis' sentiments about a girl.

"Tell me about what happened, mano. Sounds like you gotta let it out, and I got the time," Alphonse responded in a steady voice, mindful of the cadence while the Haitian leaned back in a chair, letting the cigarette burn idly between his index and thumb.

——mentions. @Dennis Tumberton

Dennis almost snorted when Alphonse produced a list of schools the other boy attended. There was obviously a story there but he was on his 3rd school? Dennis could only thing of two reasons for this - the guy was as dumb as a box of rocks, in which case, perhaps smoking was not the way to go for the Ravenclaw, or he was trouble incarnate. He had been meaning to keep his mouth shut at the laundry list of institutes the other flunked out of, but his curiosity got the better of him. He had finished his cigarette anyway, best to call it quits for now. He blew the last of fumes out and asked, “Hogwarts is your third? You know what they say: third time’s a charm. There has to be a story there, mate! Tell me it’s for like punching a teacher or something.” He didn’t think he could associate with the bad juju that would come with someone so stupid no schools wanted him, that was real dumb for real life. Doing something dumb was better than being dumb in his book.

He cleared his throat and sniffed away what ever was threatening to over take him. Stupid smoke. It was obviously the smoke, and like, the snake could be anywhere, yea that was it. “I don’t know. Not much to tell,” he muttered. He gave a perplexed scrunch of his nose and continued, “one more you are head over heels for a girl and the next it’s all ‘maybe we should take a break.’ And I agreed to that, and…perhaps it might have been my idea? I don’t know it was so confusing.” He shrugged and added, “you live and learn I guess. Anyway, what about you? What happened to you?"

@Alphonse Toussaint

Nano got me tied up. Replies are gonna be hugging that word count minimum for the month. I hope I left enough for a good reply though!