Uh Oh, I’m Not An Ravenclaw!
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created by the incredible cirrus nam!
| september seventh |outfit | xxx | xxx | english| welsh |
888.200|interacting with @Eden Byrne
𝒮he was back at Hogwarts, Brookline relized, as she laid back in bed, a book slung arcoss her chest, spine face up, unread and unnoticed. She was back. What a relief. Or not. Even at Hogwarts, the brunette was at her lowest.
Everyday carrying around books and homework felt like a daily chore. First year and half of second year felt so free, and unhinged; third year was a prison, weighted down with all the work that was once a breeze. And she's only been here at her school for a week. A small, yet long week.
At least she was not at home. Home in Ferndale, Wales, made her wanna puke. She and her sisters had decided to stay the last night of summer camp before school started at home. And all Brookline wanted to do was hurl her guts out. All the way, all the time.
It was all she could not to feel homesick. Homesick, in her definition was different then your normal homesick. She wanted a full house of joy with her father and mother.
You could say she did not have that. She definitely did not. She didn't even have a dad anymore. All she had was her father and a mother who wouldn't pay attention.
I can't have absolutely nothing I want or need, Brookline thought scornfully, with a little huff as she clutched the novel, shifting herself to sit up, her legs dangling off her bed. A oversized baggy, grey sweatshirt hung off her petite, scrawny form, that bunched up quite unpleasantly every time she moved or stirred, however she absolutely adored how warm and cozy the hoodie was, and for bottoms, Brookline still had on red and black plaid night-jammies.
Hopping off the bed, she ran a couple fingers through her greasy, matted hair. The wooden brush she took everywhere was unused, probably rotting under a pile of unorganized items in the bottom of her very trunk. She wouldn't go over to her trunk, open it, and sift through it to find the dang brush. She'd just rather use her lean fingers, and twine dirty, messy hair in a half-formed braid. She never did her hair fancy anymore. Why would she?
She tossed the book onto the bed, her eyes tracing the novel's shape. The Welsh girl switched her plaid pyjama trousers to pull on a pair of faded, blue holey Jeans. Swift fingers braided her messy hair and she rubbed her hands together afterwards, trying her hardest for warmth to travel through her small body.
Shivering, Brookline grabbed her Ravenclaw robe, and wrapped it around her shoulders, then practically shoved white socked feet into steel toe boots. She was about to head for the door when a small noise erupted from the other side of the door. Clawing. Probably Tigeress or Dove, Ophelia's kitten. Turning the knob, she was met with a tabby feline.
Through the small crack of the now-opened door, Tigeress snuck in, a small rodent hanging from her fangs. Brookline gagged, her blue eyes bulging, as the clinging kitten tried to offer the small, dead animal to her.
"No, Tigeress. D-don't even. Get that freaking thing away from me!" Brookline nudged her cat was away from her as softly as she could.
"Don't get that vermin on my bed," She remarked, her last words firm, and Brookline exited her dorm room, making her way to the Great Hall. Perhaps today would be a decent day. Bet you it won't, she thought, then she cursed herself for ruining the possible positivity.
Halfway down the stairs, Brookline almost tripped, catching herself as her pale knuckles gripped the stairwell. Deep breath in, deep breath out, the Ravenclaw reminded herself sharply as she hurried down the steps as if that whole scene never happened.
Dull, ocean-crashing irises searched the door to the Great Hall, the brunette's core jittering around. Ravenclaw table in sight, Miss Brookline Quinn plopped into a chair, and grabbed a goblet, tipping her head back to take a long-deserved drink.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner for her was always so quick, and short. No wonder everything was too oversized for her! You could probably see her ribs just like you could with a starving, poor dog. Or even a cat, she always felt so bad when she could literally count a stray’s ribs.
Pointer finger and middle finger pinching a slice of toasted bread, her left hand set down the goblet, and her head whipped around, her dirty braid slashing her in the eyes, when Brookline noticed another presence. A Ravenclaw first year girl had just taken her seat across of her, all the babyiness and unawareness that had once been on her face could be read all over this first year’s stark-white face.
No, wait! That's a Snake! Brookline looked deep into the Slytherin's eyes she saw green school robes.
She could feel her heartbeat race, as blinding anxiety took over. Deep breath in, deep breath out. It is okay. First years might accidentally sit at other houses' houses. It is okay, Brookline. She nodded, and realized.
"Oh, um, hey. You're a Slytherin, right? Er, you might be at a different table. Ravenclaw table, but it's totally fine!" She tried her best to be postive. Being optimistic was going to be the death of Brookline.
occ note: permission to godmod eden sitting at the ravenclaw table was granted by her writer
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Last edited by Brookline Quinn on 27 Oct 2025, 03:20, edited 1 time in total.
Uh Oh, I’m Not An Ravenclaw!
I survived my first week at Hogwarts, I think while stretching my whole body in my bed as I wake up. I feel content with the time I spent here so far. It is definitely tricky to find my way around the castle for now, it's huge. The classes are interesting. I mean, some of them. I made a few friends, but not everyone is nice. It's okay! I ran into my siblings a couple of times. As expected, they don't want to get involved in my life here, not more than they do at home. I thought that I would see them often since we're in the same house, but in reality I really don't. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that they are actively avoiding me.
I like the weekend because I can finally wear my colorful and comfy clothes. I don't care for the school uniform, which lacks pants' legs and bright colors for my taste. Today, I chose gray pants and a pink sweater. I still wear my Slytherin robe on top of it: I think I have too.
Going up to the ground floor of the castle, I smile as I am wondering what I will get for breakfast. The options are simply endless here, I am sure it is way better than any hotel in the world. My attention is to my meal, not to where I am going. So it is with a big smile that I get seated at what seems to be the appropriate table, until I am told otherwise.
My head turns to the person who speaks and my smile fades. I look around me only to find that I am indeed seating at the wrong table. But she said it was fine. I shrug my shoulders.
"Oops, I didn't pay attention. Since it's fine, I'll stay!" I say, with all the innocence there is. "I'm Eden."
I take a sip into my pumpkin juice glass and look at everything there is on the table.
I like the weekend because I can finally wear my colorful and comfy clothes. I don't care for the school uniform, which lacks pants' legs and bright colors for my taste. Today, I chose gray pants and a pink sweater. I still wear my Slytherin robe on top of it: I think I have too.
Going up to the ground floor of the castle, I smile as I am wondering what I will get for breakfast. The options are simply endless here, I am sure it is way better than any hotel in the world. My attention is to my meal, not to where I am going. So it is with a big smile that I get seated at what seems to be the appropriate table, until I am told otherwise.
My head turns to the person who speaks and my smile fades. I look around me only to find that I am indeed seating at the wrong table. But she said it was fine. I shrug my shoulders.
"Oops, I didn't pay attention. Since it's fine, I'll stay!" I say, with all the innocence there is. "I'm Eden."
I take a sip into my pumpkin juice glass and look at everything there is on the table.
UTC/GTM+2
Uh Oh, I’m Not An Ravenclaw!
☪︎
created by the incredible cirrus nam!
| september seventh |outfit | xxx | xxx | english| welsh |
502.200|interacting with @Eden Byrne
ℬrookline tried to smile at the Slytherin, when the younger girl answered, and it was hard to focus. Of course the innocent first year was staying. Did Snakes and Eagles even get along? She didn't know. Oh, wait, oh Merlin, what happened if they started a fight at the Ravenclaw table? Brookline would have to cover her face whenever she even walked past a Snek. Or her broom races against those sneaky Slytherins.
And oh crap. Didn't eagles hunt snakes? Yeah, they do. Oh, what is everyone going to say? Anxiety flickered quick like a orange-and-yellow flame, and she took an inhale of crisp air. She needed to calm down.
Sucking back in a sigh, Brookline tried her very best to not roll her blue iries. She would be nice. She would be polite. She wouldn't act so panicky around this newbie. That would work up Eden. "Hi Eden. I'm Brookline, Brookline Quinn. Eden is such a pretty name." She desperately hoped her Welsh accent wasn't so thick, the new first year wouldn't be able to understand such a drawl.
Hopefully, Brookline wouldn't have to speak much more to the girl. As much as she loved conversation, she hated being polite. And this only reminded her of that Snake, Harvey, from last year. The part-goblin only kept showing up. When she almost ran her broom into a tree. Summer camp. She wished she could shut off all contact with the outside world, and just be alone. Hiding away, being alone was great, fighting her way back to hope was okay. @Harvey Barrows
The Ravenclaw picked up her slice of toast, and took a bite. She chewed and swallowed, and thought slowly, this needs a little salty butter, doesn't it? Her blue eyes combed the Ravenclaw table for the butter, and set down her toast on her plate. Spotting the butter, on the other side of Eden, Brookline could have screamed. Butter should be in the middle of the table, she thought.
Shit! Of course the universe put that butter there! It wanted me to talk to this Snek!!
After a few breaths, Brookline calmed down. A little. Okay, she did not calm down, yet, she could think even rationaly now. Yes, she could ask Eden to pass the dish of butter, but, by now, she might as well ask for the salt, pepper, and sauces by now.
In a small undertone, she asked, "Hey Eden, would you be able to pass me that butter that's over there, please?"
An exhale later, she could feel the fire of anxiety slowly fading. Phew. She thought she might have been controled and chained by stupid anxiety for the rest of her life.
Insanity, Brookline thought, and as she waited for Eden to respond, she would grab her goblet, busying herself. Taking a short sip, she wanted to get out there. Why the heck did she decided to tell this first year that she was at the wrong table? She could have just left the small matter alone!
occ note: all of brookline's thoughts and actions are ic and for the purpose of her character
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Uh Oh, I’m Not An Ravenclaw!
Interacting with @Brookline Quinn
I look at the Ravenclaw next to me and smile. "Thanks! Brookline is a pretty name too."
Then I look at the table again, wondering what I will be having for breakfast. The choices are endless and I am almost drooling just for thinking about my meal. I think I will go for the traditional Scottish breakfast today. I already have my eyes on the back and the sausages. The beans and the eggs are a little further away, but I think I can reach them. I like having this for breakfast because it is quite similar to the Irish one mom makes at home.
Suddenly, the Ravenclaw asks for the butter. "Of course!" I happily respond, already reaching for it. "What year are you in? I'm a first year, so this was my very first week here." I say. "Actually, you could probably tell since I sat at the wrong table. Are we not allowed to switch up a bit for non-official meals?" I then ask.
Although I was supposed to read the rules of Hogwarts, I did not, and I am still discovering the way of living here. Rules are boring anyway! All I want to do is play and use magic.
I look at the Ravenclaw next to me and smile. "Thanks! Brookline is a pretty name too."
Then I look at the table again, wondering what I will be having for breakfast. The choices are endless and I am almost drooling just for thinking about my meal. I think I will go for the traditional Scottish breakfast today. I already have my eyes on the back and the sausages. The beans and the eggs are a little further away, but I think I can reach them. I like having this for breakfast because it is quite similar to the Irish one mom makes at home.
Suddenly, the Ravenclaw asks for the butter. "Of course!" I happily respond, already reaching for it. "What year are you in? I'm a first year, so this was my very first week here." I say. "Actually, you could probably tell since I sat at the wrong table. Are we not allowed to switch up a bit for non-official meals?" I then ask.
Although I was supposed to read the rules of Hogwarts, I did not, and I am still discovering the way of living here. Rules are boring anyway! All I want to do is play and use magic.
UTC/GTM+2
Uh Oh, I’m Not An Ravenclaw!
☪︎
created by the incredible cirrus nam!
| september seventh |outfit | xxx | xxx | english| welsh |
1,032.200|interacting with @Eden Byrne
ℬrookline wished she could see her smile and note all the features about it.
Fakery. Deceitfulness. Plain secrecy. Vile.
Brookline sighed as she thought she was fake. Yet, I am, aren’t I? The Slytherin smiled up at her, as she complimented her back. The Welsh Ravenclaw smiled, the only thing different than Eden's youthful light, beam, and smile that reached to her eyes, was that Brookline’s small smile plastered and feigned.
Fake.
Secret.
Small and unreal.
It looked real, though. That was the only deciding good fact about this all. That the little Quinn had been able to feign her smile all throughout this conversation. Perhaps this was a untold skill of hers, or Brookline had much deeper secrets. It was also probably a miracle that her smile wasn’t upside down.
Brookline's chest felt quite uneasy as she studied the younger, Slytherin witch. Eden's dark hair fell to her small shoulders in midnight ocean waves as she surveyed the food that had been laid out in front of her. The other girl was practically salivating, her youthful, blue eyes huge and bigger than her stomach.
Rolling her eyes in her judgemental head, Brookline took another nervous sip from her goblet. She cared, yet, she absolutely, hands down, hated human interaction, it was just yet another con of Fake, and New Brookline. So many disappointing cons and little pros. She wished for Old Brookline who had so many amazing, good pros and little cons.
As the extreme anxiety that was once flaring and whipping like a nervous, castle flag in Scotland’s harsh wind, Brookline exhaled, as she gripped her drink. She had just asked Eden for the small dish of butter and had to wait for an answer. Exhale. Inhale. Everything will be fine, Brookline, she thought as she fiddled with the blue strings on her Jeans. Why did everything have to be nerve wracking? The Quinn asked herself, her center bubbling a bit in her concerning dread.
Eden had replied in a light, happy tone, as if she was quite contented and jovial to continue this half- baked conversation, and she handed the dish over to the older witch. Brookline copied her last looking-like-it-wasn’t-fake smile and pasted it on her face this time. “Thanks,” her voice pretending to be all so cheery.
She slathered more-than-enough butter on her toast, and she took a bite, sighing happily as she chewed and swallowed. Thank Merlin for whoever made glorious butter, she thought heavily.
The Ravenclaw could have practically sighed when Eden brought up questions. Questions! Questions about what year she was in! Could she remember what year she was in or would she forget it, just like she forget what house she was in for a split second during the long, outrageous summer? She exhaled, and turned to Eden to stammer, “I am a Ravenclaw sec --”
Shit!! She thought, and stopped as a violent headache strikes.
You’re a freaking third year, Brookline!! Her skull, pounded and screamed at her as the first syllable of ‘second’ left her pink lips. You should always know your house and year. That’s practically your identity.
Her very insides fumed, as she could feel sharp swords and thin lances tearing up the center of her core. Brookline grimaced in her mind, as she regained her game face, and rotated around to see the little, dark-haired first year.
“Third year,” Brookline quickly corrected herself, “I’m a third year and the homework is a hell of a lot harder than first year essays! Don’t be wishing your first year of the magical school of Hogwarts.” If that was what you were doing, she said in her head, not bothering to finish the quite foolish sentence because, for one, she didn’t even care, for two, she didn’t even want to finish her sentence, she wanted out of here.
Just after Eden asked her what-year-are-you-in question, she asked Brookline another, asking her about if they were not allowed to switch up tables. And after Brookline deliverd her last answer, she knew she had to unfortunately answer that second question as well, because she was a perfectionist, third year Ravenclaw.
And so, she answered. “Honestly, you can sit at whatever table you want. I’ve seen Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors sitting at different tables just because they wanted to sit by their best friends or partner. But, I’m pretty sure, yet, don’t quote me on it, that for official meals, like at the End-Of-Term or Start-of-Term feasts, you are supposed to sit at your own house’s table.” Taking a huge, needed breath, Brookline took another bite of her buttered toast and swallowed fervently before she started talking again, “And, you know, the professors do want you to make many friends and allies within your own house, so, I quite encourage you to make friends of Slytherin if you haven’t yet. Of course, I understand, if you’re not that outgoing, I can introduce you to my own first/second year friends. I don’t have many as I wasn’t as social and lively as I was two years ago, but, that’s okay.”
What the hell? Brookline thought, angrily, and could have just freaking slapped herself after she was finished her answer. A huge rant, and it was literally just about friends and stupid house tables. Oh my Merlin, I’m going to seem like a stupid, stupid, damn nerd now, the third year internally groaned. If the groan did come out of her lips though, the ends of the Ravenclaw would have heard it and Brookline did not want that at all. She hated attention one-on-one, why would she want attention for everyone?! Why must life be like this?
She sighed, and waited for the answer of the younger girl. Brookline took a sip of her cool pumpkin juice, she looked inside the glass, watching the thicker orange-hued liquid swirl inside the goblet. She set it down and despite her extreme wanting to be in her dorm, she tried to be a good, okay, at least, a informational role model and focused her attention on Eden. And if the smaller girl asked a another exhausting question, of course, Brookline would answer it, her patience slowly running thinner and thinner.
occ note: all of brookline's thoughts and actions are ic and for the purpose of her character
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Uh Oh, I’m Not An Ravenclaw!
Interacting with @Brookline Quinn
The Raverclaw girl thanks me with a smile as I give her the butter she requested. I smile back, thinking she's nice. I listen to her carefully, looking in her eyes with joy. How lucky I am to make friends with a third year from another house, on my first week in Hogwarts! Brookline is so sweet to warn me about the homework. All goofy that I am, I still want to take my studies here seriously. I have to live up to the expectations of my parents, especially if they compare me to my siblings. I keep listening to the person who seems to become my friend - I hope!
"Oh, that would be so nice! Thanks Brookline. You're the best. I can already tell we will become very good friends!" I say, bursting out of joy.
Oh my gosh, this girl really is the coolest ever! I still cannot believe I met her by chance, just like that. If I previously got a bit worried about making friends in Hogwarts, all the stress has been lifted up instantly. I always thought I was good at making friends, not realizing that I never went to school or never really had the occasion of making any. Maybe I saw myself this way because of my outgoing and joyful personality. Coming here, it was much more stressful than I thought it would be. A lot of children already knew quite a lot of people, whether it was their family or friends from before Hogwarts. And here I was, on my own.
The Raverclaw girl thanks me with a smile as I give her the butter she requested. I smile back, thinking she's nice. I listen to her carefully, looking in her eyes with joy. How lucky I am to make friends with a third year from another house, on my first week in Hogwarts! Brookline is so sweet to warn me about the homework. All goofy that I am, I still want to take my studies here seriously. I have to live up to the expectations of my parents, especially if they compare me to my siblings. I keep listening to the person who seems to become my friend - I hope!
"Oh, that would be so nice! Thanks Brookline. You're the best. I can already tell we will become very good friends!" I say, bursting out of joy.
Oh my gosh, this girl really is the coolest ever! I still cannot believe I met her by chance, just like that. If I previously got a bit worried about making friends in Hogwarts, all the stress has been lifted up instantly. I always thought I was good at making friends, not realizing that I never went to school or never really had the occasion of making any. Maybe I saw myself this way because of my outgoing and joyful personality. Coming here, it was much more stressful than I thought it would be. A lot of children already knew quite a lot of people, whether it was their family or friends from before Hogwarts. And here I was, on my own.
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