Where Am I?
She wandered in the corridor, figuring out where the Potions classroom was. Her wavy, dark brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, glinting in the sunshine that shone from the windows. The moment she set foot on the staircases, it suddenly began to spin rapidly. Rosaline clutched the banister tightly, her knuckles turned white. She was flustered, yet she managed to maintain her composure. Finally, the staircase stopped moving. A completely strange place appeared in her sight. She looked around, trying to find out where she was. It was dead silent in this corridor. Her hand traced the surface of the stone wall; she felt the coolness of it as she walked along. The paintings on the wall looked indifferent. The armor sets occasionally glinted in the light. She walked closer to a beautiful young woman’s portrait, trying to ask where she was and how she could go to the Potions class. “Good day, I’m sorry to bother you. I was wondering if you know where I am and how I can go to the Potions class?” she asked politely. The lady remained silent; she just pointed in a direction and minded her own business. Rosaline tucked a strand of her hair back behind her ear, feeling a bit nervous at the sense of distance the lady showed to her. She said gently, "Thank you,” before heading in that direction.
Swiftly striding, she was afraid that she’d be late for her first Potions class. That’d be disastrous. Her heart sank. Avoiding the most terrible outcome she thought of, she just kept walking, finding the stairs that were leading down. Just as she turned a corner, she saw a familiar face. Is it Camille? She recalled his name. The boy shared the train compartment with her. The lost girl didn’t know why he was here, but she was glad that there was someone she knew. Maybe not knowing that much of his background, she felt the boy was a bit hard to get close to. Rosaline approached him, her voice soft and polite, “Hello, Camille. Do you happen to know where we are and how I can go to the Potions classroom? I know I should find the stairs that lead down, but I couldn’t find them.” She looked at him with her blue eyes, hoping he would have an answer.
stamina: 6 | evasion: 5 | strength: 5
wisdom: 8 | arcane Power: 7 |accuracy: 4
Lovely Creature
Where Am I?
| C | date: 3/9/2025 location: Corridors |
abilities: lovely creature dialogue: #0a2a28 mentioned: @Rosaline Everhart |
C |
| CV | Camille had already been awake for hours. Having to share a whole bedroom with several others left him restless and unable to relax fully. Despite that, he was running late for Potions class that morning, even though he’d left the common room in a timely manner, for lack of better things to do. The reason he was late was that he’d somehow gotten stuck on the moving staircase, shifting endlessly between floors. There he remained for a solid ten minutes before he all but screamed, “Fuck it!”—cursing the institution once more for implementing something so stupid as moving staircases— before walking off into the nearest corridor the next time the stairs paused. Just to gain an ounce of control back over the situation. Every new corridor looked as strange to him as the last, he had no idea where he was or where the hall led to. It was probably not the right way if he was heading for the dungeons, but if Camille had to spend another minute stuck in that stupid loop, he would scream for the whole castle to hear. Trust that it would not be pleasant. Being late for class wouldn’t be the end of the world, when was he ever on time anyway, but looking like a fool in the staircase would. Taking a deep breath, Camille walked down the corridors, hoping to find his way to the dungeons some other way that did not require using the main staircase, even if it would take him longer to reach his destination. The boy would have asked someone, if the halls weren’t empty, with the exceptions of moving portraits. The day Camille talked to portraits would be the day they’d need to send him to an asylum. Stubbornly, he continued without asking for directions, finding it utterly beneath him to ask inanimate objects for assistance. After a few more minutes of wandering aimlessly, another lost first year facing the same issue as he was, approached him in the corridor. Rosaline, if he rememebered correctly. Camille recognized her from the Hogwarts Express, an experience he would rather forget. Discomfort aside, the company hadn’t been terrible and he had been hoping for some human presence, even better if it happened to be a beautiful girl, so he offered her a charming smile, slightly relieved to not be facing these strange corridors alone. “I’m afraid I’m just as lost as you are.” Camille said with an exasperated sigh, more playful than the gnawing irritation from before. “Moving staircases must be the most inconvenient thing ever invented. But since we’re heading the same way, let’s make each other company. If you don’t mind.” Turning up the charm a bit, he offered her his arm, the sleeve of his perfectly tailored robe sliding smoothly over his wrist. He could imagine anyone would mind being next to him, but it was her choice. |
CV |
Ilias Lahlou | Ilvermorny
Where Am I?
When she heard that Camille had been led here by the moving staircase, she gave a little gasp and said, “Me too. Totally agree with you. I was walking down the stairs as usual, then the staircase moved of its own will and brought me here. I even tried to ask the portrait, but there wasn’t much helpful information.” She sighed softly, revealing a slightly disheartened expression. But she soon pulled herself together and said hopefully, “The Dungeons are underground, so maybe if we find a staircase that leads down, we’ll figure out the right direction anyway.” Though her words betrayed a hint of uncertainty, she believed this should work.
The corridor was rather empty at the moment, and as they talked, they could hear a faint echo. She was glad that she had met Camille, because if she faced the deserted corridor alone, she’d have been quite scared. Though she had an adventurous nature, it was more about exploring outdoors, on the grass, or on the streets of the city, not in an empty corridor in a huge castle. She needed some kind of control over the situation she was in, otherwise she’d overthink and start worrying about too many things.
Camille offered his arm to Rosaline. She knew he was being polite, yet she was still a bit flustered. Hiding the fact that she lacked much social experience like this, she gently placed her hand on his arm. Since she usually didn’t pay much attention to other people’s appearance, she only now noticed that Camille was really good-looking. “Maybe we could head right to see if there are stairs?” she suggested, pointing toward the right turn at the end of the corridor.
As they walked together, she thought maybe this was a chance to get to know Camille better. He hadn’t talked very much on the train, and Rosaline was curious about everyone’s story. She asked, “How have your first few days at Hogwarts been? I think it’s really interesting, but also a little overwhelming because of all the new things and people.”
stamina: 6 | evasion: 5 | strength: 5
wisdom: 8 | arcane Power: 7 |accuracy: 4
Lovely Creature
Where Am I?
| C | date: 3/9/2025 location: Corridors |
abilities: lovely creature dialogue: #0a2a28 mentioned: @Rosaline Everhart |
C |
| CV | Pleased with her decision to accept his gesture, Camille offered a small smile before they continued walking down the corridor, Rosline’s hand neatly tucked under his arm. Not out of habit, rather a calculated decision — a way of controlling how he portrayed himself in her eyes. Obviously, Camille knew that the potions classroom was in the dungeons. The only question was where to find the stairs leading downstairs that weren’t moving at inconvenient times. She didn’t have to point out something so obvious to him, though he didn’t comment on it. The girl was just trying to be helpful, and luckily, Camille knew the right, and wrong things to say. The same way he knew when to offer his arm, or where to place his hand to feign intimacy without overdoing it. The performance of social interactions came so naturally to him, he didn’t have to think. The companionship, in this case, was more important to him than arriving in time to class. Instead, focusing on finding their way. Rosaline had suggested they try to go right, marking their first destination. “I’ll trust your judgement of directions,” he said in a joking tone. The topic of conversation moved on to how the first few days of school had treated him this far. Interesting was one vague word to describe it. If he were to answer her question honestly, she’d never hear the end of it. Camille contained a scowl at the mere thought of it, the knowledge that he had to share a dorm and bunkbed with the despicable Lorenzo haunting him every day. There were a lot of things he could say about his first days, none of it pleasant. She would not want to hear the unfiltered version, and most of all, he did not want it to sully her image of him. Telling Rosaline about how much he despised his living conditions would not serve anyone, least of all Camille. “That’s one word for it,” he said in an rather strained exhale. “It’s been an eventful few days, to say the least. It’s very different from back home, so I’m still adjusting to everything. Who knew bunk beds were even a thing.” Where sharing a dorm with the devil’s spawn was the biggest difference in living standards. Inbetween the silence, he measured the amount of honesty he could afford. In a self-deprecating way, reflecting on his lack of sleep after being known for sleeping until noon, he added: “I didn’t know I was a morning person until now.” Due to environmental causes, not by choice. Glancing at his company, he changed the topic. “Enough about me. What about you? How is…” he glanced down at the crest on her chest. “Gryffindor?” |
CV |
Ilias Lahlou | Ilvermorny
Where Am I?
She glanced at Camille. He was much calmer than she was, facing this situation. She chuckled at Camille’s reply, “Thank you for trusting my decision. Though I myself don’t know if that’s the right direction or not.” Her joyful tone was subdued. She didn’t want to make too much noise.
Hearing about Camille’s bunk bed situation, Rosaline said sympathetically, “Yeah, it is really different from home. In our dorm, our beds are futons. They’re a kind of bed the Japanese usually sleep on. We’re supposed to lay them on the ground. It’s quite novel to me. But indeed, it is comfortable too, so I don’t have any complaints about it.” She paused for a moment and tried to console Camille, “Wow, but a bunkbed. I’ve never slept in one either. It must be quite an inconvenience if you sleep lightly. I hope you at least met some good dormmates.” Trying to be more cheerful, she offered a warm smile to Camille.
“Do you have trouble sleeping here? I still find it hard to sleep in an unfamiliar bed, so I tend to wake up too early. I can relate to you,” she said with a concerned look. Her sleep schedule was always a problem; sometimes she fell asleep too late, and other times she woke up too early. The problem fluctuated, but whenever she felt stressed, it inevitably resurfaced. Fortunately, she didn’t often get dark circles under her eyes.
The conversation topic turned back to her. She answered with uncertainty, “It’s quite surprising to me that I’m in Gryffindor. Yet, in another sense, not so surprising. I think it’s because of the influence my father had on me. He didn’t come to Hogwarts to study. But I always thought he’d be a great Gryffindor.” Hiding the fact that her father was a Muggle, Rosaline wasn’t embarrassed by her upbringing; she just felt she shouldn’t say too much about it. She was still in the aftermath of an incident that had happened in the summer. Her eyes dimmed slightly. She nodded, as if to shake off the thought. She continued, “And the people in Gryffindor are all very welcoming. So far, it's all great!” She turned her face to Camille. She then asked with a bright smile, “What about Ravenclaw? I heard that before entering your common room, you have to answer a riddle. But I don’t know if it’s true or not.” Her blue eyes sparkled with a curious light. Their color became darker under the indoor light.
stamina: 6 | evasion: 5 | strength: 5
wisdom: 8 | arcane Power: 7 |accuracy: 4
Lovely Creature
Where Am I?
| C | date: 3/9/2025 location: Corridors |
abilities: lovely creature dialogue: #0a2a28 mentioned: @Rosaline Everhart |
C |
| CV | Futon beds were something completely unheard of to the boy, like bunk beds had been up until a few days ago, though the way she explained it– how the beds were practically on the floor, giving him vivid pictures of a scruffy mattress grazing the dirty floors– he couldn’t imagine how that was preferred than his own accommodation. Camille grimaced to himself, finding it distasteful how this castle handled their students' comfort. Both sounded equally bad and peasantlike to him. Don’t even get him started on his dorm-mates, though it was difficult to push it aside when the girl brought up the topic on her own. Without going into too many details, as he said, there were endless things to cover, Camille could at least confirm that he slept very poorly in these new conditions, if his self-deprecating joke hadn’t made it clear enough. “Yes, I’m not getting up early because I like it. Far from.” Trouble sleeping was an understatement. “Everything is so… loud, but I’m hoping that it will get better someday.” Right then, that felt like wishful thinking. “The common room is spacious and neatly designed, so, at least there’s that.” Camille had gotten very familiar with one of the chairs in particular, preferring it over his own damned bunk, which spoke volumes of how much he detested it. He offered her a grateful smile, finding some comfort, however futile, in knowing he was not the only one struggling. The fact that she was too, to some degree, suggested Rosaline was used to some standard above these rudimentary conditions at home. She’d found more success in Gryffindor than he could claim he’d found in Ravenclaw, where the lions apparently were all nice and welcoming, the ravenclaws had yet to show any redeemable traits except poor attitudes and manners. In terms of beds, there was no reason for him to be jealous of her experience, even though his own housemates in particular left a lot to be desired. “That sounds lovely,” for her. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen many positives in Ravenclaw this far, but it’s only the third day,” he feigned hope, albeit he felt none, just to avoid spoiling the mood. “You’ve heard right about the riddle, which in itself is quite an inconvenience if you’re in a hurry.” Camille scoffed lightly, thinking this castle kept revealing stupid decisions, the next more dumb than the last. Nothing was quite as bad as moving staircases in the middle of rush hours, however. Luckily, he’d managed to time his entrances and exits with other students, avoiding having to deal with it himself. Reaching a new set of stairs in the corridors that looked to be leading down to the next floor, and, if they were lucky: down to the dungeons, Camille perked up a fraction, glancing at Rosaline and nodding in that direction. “Let’s take these stairs and see where they lead us, shall we? Hopefully the dungeons,” he said with a charming grin. |
CV |
Ilias Lahlou | Ilvermorny
Where Am I?
Rosaline gave him a sympathetic look at his reaction to the futon beds. He must not like the environment, she thought. “Yeah, living in a group can indeed be rather challenging. I do hope you can have a more comfortable bed.” She could feel that he wasn’t willing to talk more on the dorm topic, which sounded quite painful to him, so she deftly switched it to the common room. “It sounds so nice! One of my cousins was a Ravenclaw; he always loved the library there. I wanted to see it too. I think if I answer the puzzle correctly, then I can get in,” she chuckled, her voice silvery, wanting to lighten the atmosphere. “Yet I don’t really want to get in trouble,” she smiled at Camille, her eyes sparkling with mischievousness.
With Camille’s expression softening, she could see he hadn’t had a great experience in the last few days at Hogwarts. Actually, maybe things had started downhill for him on the train ride. He didn’t have any food then, as far as she remembered. She thought of the conversation they had on the train carriage and asked curiously, “Oh, did you get the pain au chocolat at the feast on the first day? After we talked about it on the train, I kind of want to eat it too, but I only noticed there were so many foods, so I haven’t paid attention to it.” She recalled the memory from two days ago. It had only been that close to the first day, yet she felt as though she had been away from home for a hundred days. She quickly pushed the thought away.
“It’d be dreadful if I have to go back to the common room and then be locked out of the door because I can’t solve the puzzle,” she said with a wide grin, “Though I hope it won’t happen to you.” It was quite a funny scene if a friend had shared it with her, yet not a fun thing if it happened to her. She imagined it and hoped she’d never have to face this. But one couldn’t always have things go one’s way, just as she was now struggling to find her way to the Potions classroom.
Fortunately, she had Camille by her side. In circumstances like these, she had found comfort in not being alone. Her companion, who had gone astray with her, suggested they walk down the newly discovered stairs. She met his glance and nodded determinedly with a smile, “Of course, let’s cross our fingers this will be the right staircase.” She walked down the stairs carefully. A breeze blew through the stairwell and her hair, carrying with it a subtle fragrance of rose and cedar.
Sorry for the late reply
stamina: 6 | evasion: 5 | strength: 5
wisdom: 8 | arcane Power: 7 |accuracy: 4
Lovely Creature
Where Am I?
| C | date: 3/9/2025 location: Corridors |
abilities: lovely creature dialogue: #0a2a28 mentioned: @Rosaline Everhart |
C |
| CV | Camille was yet to read any books in the library, though it would have been impossible to miss it, walking through the common room. He hadn’t had much time to spend on leisure at all these first few days, too busy in his hunt for a prefect— and justice. It was to him impossible to imagine anyone paying enough attention to notice a misplaced Gryffindor in the tower. The Headmaster was practically absent from what he’d gathered, meanwhile the prefects were uncooperative and as common as a blue moon; it would be a miracle if they suddenly stepped up to bring some order to these halls. He didn’t necessarily think she would dare to test the theory of sneaking into the Ravenclaw common room. So, for now, it remained nothing but playful flirting on his end. “I think you would enjoy the library, though I don’t think you’d have to worry about getting in trouble, even if you managed to sneak in,” he said with a light chuckle. “And if you did, I might offer myself to join you in detention.” Camille glanced at her, leaning closer with a smile, matching her mischievous tone. “For influencing your decision to try it.” Her question about the pain au chocolat drew a faint sound from him — something between amusement and disbelief that she’d remembered such a trivial detail. Tragic, too, though the boy had almost forgotten everything about the first day. The lack of food on the train, and everything that came after, had by now faded into a haze of stress and disappointment. Though he recalled, with effort, that there had been no french pastries at the feast. Still, he felt a faint appreciation — or perhaps simply awe — that she remembered such small details. “Unfortunately not.” He sighed dramatically. “I’ll simply have to wait until Christmas when I’m back home.” Not much in the De Varenne household was worth celebrating with his father as the head of the house, albeit the food was not one of those things. With their arms still linked, Camille followed her lead descending the stairs. Carried by a cool, swift breeze, an unmistakable scent of rose and cedar grazed his nostrils. Considering fragrance was one of his interests, and his rather sensitive nose— both a curse and a blessing, depending on the company— there was no question about the notes or source. Surrounded by nothing but stone, it could only have come from the girl beside him. This time, it was something pleasant; the beauty of the rose, symbolizing elegance, warmth and sensitivity, paired with the grounded calm of cedar, Camille thought was perfectly suitable for a girl like Rosaline. Based on what he’d seen this far, granted, no more depth offered beyond a pretty face and politeness. Sometimes, that was understated. Though the corridor below was cooler, the air damp and faintly metallic, Camille’s attention remained on perfumes. The pairing of notes was classic in perfumery; it could have been any brand of bottle, though this one in particular, a bit too girly for himself, was clearly not a perfume he would have chosen for himself. Maison Francis Kurkdjian Baccarat Rouge 540, the fragrance Camille wore now, spoke volumes without revealing anything at all — elegant, unmistakable, and composed, much like its wearer: alluring, measured, and entirely unreadable. The sweetness of jasmine and saffron deepened into the warm, woody blend offered by amberwood and cedar. Of course, he hadn’t worn it to offer clues about himself; he simply enjoyed the balance of sweet floral and spice, and the earthy warmth of amberwood. “I like your perfume. Rose and cedar mix well,” Camille said, perhaps a little suddenly. Fragrances were probably not the average eleven-year-old boy’s interest. “It suits you.” With so many horrendous perfumes on the market, that was high praise coming from him. |
CV |
Ilias Lahlou | Ilvermorny
Where Am I?
Camille joked that she could sneak into the Ravenclaw Common Room, and he would be willing to join her in detention if she got caught. His tone was gentle yet playful. She found this side of Camille a little unfamiliar, although they had only met three days ago, so it made sense that she felt this way. Yet she understood this expression of his was still under control and carefully measured. It was interesting to experience the conversation, nevertheless. She chuckled at his words and said, “Be careful, I might really go there one day. I’d love to know what collection of books you Ravens have. But I appreciate your offer.” She met his gaze with a bright smile.
Hearing that he hadn’t had the French dessert on the first night, she felt sorry for him and consoled him, “Oh… It must’ve been a disappointment. I hope you still found something delicious. And Christmas! It’s still a few months away, but I’m really excited that I can go home then.” Another topic soon came up — family. She found Camille hadn’t talked much about his family on the train. Though she guessed he probably was French, she hadn’t asked before. What would go wrong if she just asked? Nothing, really. So, she asked with a curious tone, “I think I haven’t heard you bring this up before, so I’m kind of curious. Where are you from? I guess you aren’t from the UK. Maybe from France?” She said all this at a slightly quicker pace. She thought the atmosphere was livelier now, but they still descended the stairs. Wondering if they would find an underground path to Hogsmeade, she daydreamed for a moment.
She snapped back to reality when Camille made a comment about her perfume. Her cheeks flushed a little because she hadn’t discussed this hobby with other people her age before. She was a little surprised. Her interest in fragrance was inspired by her aunt Juliet. She was one of the younger members of her father’s side of the family, and she loved taking Rosaline shopping in the city of London. The perfume Rosaline was wearing had actually been a gift from her. She replied with a shy smile, “Thank you, I like these notes a lot.” As a breeze drifted up from below, the air carried the scent of Camille’s fragrance to her. It suited him perfectly, with hints of floral beneath the woody, cedary notes. The sweetness of it showed a soft side of this scent. She thought it smelled familiar, yet she couldn’t quite recall which bottle it was. A faint idea emerged. She said, “I like yours too. I don’t know if I’m wrong, but are you wearing the MFK perfume? I think I tried it on before.” She made a bold guess. The memory was vague, but her senses still had that impression.
As they kept chatting, they finally reached the end of the stairs. She could smell the faint scent of potion ingredients. It seemed like they had taken the right path and would be able to attend the class on time.
Pixel art by 蘇提比
stamina: 6 | evasion: 5 | strength: 5
wisdom: 8 | arcane Power: 7 |accuracy: 4
Lovely Creature
Where Am I?
| C | date: 3/9/2025 location: Corridors |
abilities: lovely creature dialogue: #0a2a28 mentioned: @Rosaline Everhart |
C |
| CV | Never in Camille’s eleven years alive, had there been any question about his heritage. His pride spoke for itself. The French wove through the English words leaving his mouth, lingering proof that no matter how well articulated he was, it was not his mother tongue. Given his age, Camille could easily get rid of the accent if he wanted to, though that would mean facing more situations where he could be mistaken for an Englishman. It was difficult to imagine Rosaline ever saying something offensive enough to properly offend him, but he chuckled in faint bemusement at the question, thinking it had been obvious from the moment he spoke— aided, of course, by his presentation. A presentation that had graced the centerfold of several French magazines, aimed at French young girls for now, though surely more to come in the future. The sound leaving his lips was light-hearted and melodic as he glanced at la rose. “Is it not obvious?” he said with a smile, of course, just enough to spare her any potential embarrassment for asking a question, Camille believed, to be painfully obvious. “I’m from the south of France, Cap d’Antibes, more specifically. It’s on the outskirts of Nice. We moved two years ago, or so?” Camille spoke the question aloud, though not expecting an answer from her; it was a small reflection aimed at himself. He couldn’t remember the exact date, yet it remained a decision— the decision to leave the sun-soaked province— he still questioned to this day. Winter in the south of France was mild. The air was crisp by the shoreline, yet the sun remained ever present. Snow had long abandoned these parts, and Camille couldn’t remember the last time he’d celebrated a proper Christmas in Cap d’Antibes. Still, it was a far more pleasant prospect than the glum, rain-soaked streets of Windsor, where winter was marked with gray monotony. If he had to choose between enduring the holidays at Hogwarts, where so far he could barely tolerate his surroundings— save for the occasional elegant girl, like Rosaline, for example— and the dull weather of England, the choice was obvious. “I assume you’re from the area?” Nothing he could see or hear about Rosaline said otherwise, though he was open to having his assumptions corrected. Regarding perfumes, his knowledge and subtle affirmation of her tastes and identity when it came to perfume notes— roses and cedar— seemed to surprise her, leaving a pleasant blush on her cheeks. She thanked him shyly. The reaction, however small, pleased him; the color reminded him of the flower she must have been named after, and that she wore so purposefully on her skin. It was Camille’s turn to be surprised, though not flustered by any means, when Rosaline pointed out his own scent. “I like yours too. I don’t know if I’m wrong, but are you wearing the MFK perfume? I think I tried it on before.” Mildly impressed by her ability to clock his current favorite, and that it appealed to her own tastes, he offered her a nod in approval. Though he wasn’t convinced she’d tried this exact bottle before, which was definitely on the more masculine end of the spectrum. MFK had several perfumes on the market, but the brand was certainly well pin-pointed. “One of them, yes. I’m surprised you noticed.” Pleased about the fact, too. While he’d been mostly distracted by fragrances and small-talk, after taking a hopeful gamble which stair and corridor to take, the two of them finally reached the right corridor in the dungeons. A door was open in the further end of the corridor, the smell of something acidic, bubbling and questionable drifted out in the corridor, along with the sounds of light chatter and fussing with heavy objects. Cauldrons, assuming they’d found the potions classroom. “Not a second too early.” Camille said in a joking tone in conclusion to wandering lost around the unfamiliar castle. “You’ll have to tell me about your Christmas traditions another time.” One last promise before he escorted her into the classroom. |
CV |
Ilias Lahlou | Ilvermorny