Fashionable and Flamboyant PV Olphie Finished

It was a Saturday, but because Olphie had arisen at 7 on the dot, she couldn't help but sing that catchy tune from her childhood, "Friday." The angelic Rebecca Black's voice had echoed throughout the halls when she visited her family the spring and summer of 2011 as the Bercegeay children traipsed in and about the family home. It became almost a theme song, a pump up song of sorts for the family trips of the weekend that Olphie would travel home to London for on her off weekends. As she got out of bed, she concluded that her family would need to recreate one of those trips this summer, especially now that her summers were more relaxed. This summer would be different, a creation of new memories, much like her new creation of the song's lyrics, which she sang brightly this morning:

"Seven a.m., waking up in the morning
Gotta be fresh, gotta do my face
Elves should bring my clothes, gotta get cereal
Seein' everything, the time is goin'
Tickin' on and on, students are rushin'
Gotta get down to the Great Hall
Gotta catch the crowd, I see my fans..."

Contrary to the song's lyrics and much to her chagrin, Olphie had to pick out her own outfit, a brightly-colored outfit meant to embody how fashionable spring could be. Only twenty minutes had past, a personal record. Usually it took her at least thirty to adjust her body parts so they looked pristine in the fabrics she had chosen for her day. The more time consuming task, however, was her makeup, and Olphie knew that today it would have to be especially extravagant to embody spring. She gazed in the mirror, clutching her eyeshadow palette, and pondered how difficult it would be to craft flowers with eyeshadow. It seemed strenuous, having to hold up the heavy brush with such strength and focus. Olphie knew she had made a grave mistake when she had not added a requirement of a personal makeup artist to her contract; next time she wouldn't make such an oversight.

Olphie had just finished a neutral base tone for her right eyelid and had pressed a brush that contained a vibrant red shade to the same lid when a knock interrupted her focused attention. Damn. The left lid and her face were naked, the right contained a streak of red, and she looked quite simply foolish. But she hadn't been expecting anyone, and perhaps it was a fan, or even better, Caradoc Browne, finally realizing how foolish it was to 'take things slow' and ready to kiss her once and for all. If she answered the door, her lover would see a look she wouldn't dare share to the public, but if she waited... he could depart without another thought. For the sake of love, she would have to answer.

She nodded towards the large poster of Barnaby Ryker, seemingly puffing along on his cigar, unaware that Olphie hoped that his competition would be on the other side of her door. Hopefully Caradoc turned temporarily blind and not only missed her horrific makeup but also the picture of her secret crush. It was lucky, indeed, that Olphie could tell the convincing lie that she had just received the image as a promotional item for a match, despite the fact that she had spent 30 galleons on the life-sized image.

Breathing deeply three times before she clasped the handle with her right hand, Olphie opened the door while she simultaneously shielded the majority of her eyes and lids with her left. Unless Caradoc was secretly an animagus, the silver hair seemed to belong to Yeoldest Gemstone instead. Olphie was familiar with her colleague, of course, though they had yet to interact with them. She was first disappointed, then quite pleased to see the woman, as from afar, Olphie had noted that she seemed to have a similarly wonderful sense of style. With all these ugly old men and pre-pubescent, awkward students roaming the halls, she really needed another fashion-aware companion.

Nerves dissipated and she found herself humming "Friday" once more as she opened the door further with a smile. In her trademark loud voice, Olphie said, "Ah! Miss Jameson, dear, what a pleasant surprise! Please do come in."

She had no shame for Nordic to enter the office, even though the house elves still had not addressed her belongings properly. That was not a reflection on Olphie, of course, but of the fact that Hogwarts still needed to find better creatures to do their dirty work. As she turned to walk back into the pink room, she winked at the portrait of Barnaby. His real-life counterpart would surely be proud that Olphie had been kind enough to invite his fellow Head of House into such a fabulous abode. It would have been nice if she had been given a bedroom in addition to an office instead of a combination of the two, but it would do. Though she did not face the woman, she asked, "Tea, dear? Any you'd like, I have quite a few options."

Whether she answered yes or no (though she'd obviously say yes, as tea was delicious), with a flick of her wand, Olphie began to heat up some tea, occasionally murmuring the tune's new lyrics as she busied herself by gathering tea bags and cups. She smiled as she got to the "cereal" lyric, for it seemed the song would not go to plan. Cereal could wait. Perhaps the song was a good omen, that the two women would hit it off over their shared passion for fashion and have a weekend gallivanting throughout Europe. Perhaps? More like definitely. The two were nearly the same person, it was destiny. Olphie believed so much in this fact that she had even forgotten that her makeup looked particularly ridiculous and no longer attempted to hide her mistake.

The kettle whistled. Olphie reached for a bag of English breakfast herself, poured the hot water, and nodded for Norway to pick her own. She settled herself in one of her leathered armchairs, crossed her legs, sipped on her tea, and then, with a smile, asked, "To what do I owe this pleasure, Yourdiss?"

Hjørdis did not know this but boy, oh boy, was she a lucky soul. Hearing her colleague's singing - and more importantly, her choice of song - would have made her cringe enough to just turn on the spot and walk out. But... it appeared that today, facing a multitude of challenges would be in her future. The door swung open, the head of the flying professor peaked out from behind it. "Professor Bercegeay" She greeted on seeing half the lady's face.

This was quickly followed by regret. Hjørdis could not help but quirk an eyebrow a little as she heard a humming sound of a tune that she would rather not hear. It was followed by a greeting to the entirely wrong person. "Jensen. Jensen will do." She replied, as she nodded in response to the offer to come in and made her way in.

More regret ensued. Trunks were still packed. Hjørdis was careful not to step on anything... or touch anything. She had no idea where anything had been and did not really enjoy the feeling. It was not dirty, per se. But rather not as orderly and organised as she would have liked. The Head of Slytherin liked order and cleanliness, for the most part. She followed Olphie to a rather pink room, silently questioning every decision that she had made this morning.

The room itself continued to force Hjørdis to question everything. It was very pink. But that was not the issue. She quite liked a bit of pink, there was nothing wrong with it. The unpacked trunks were a little annoying but everyone needed time to settle in. What she had no explanation for, however, was the very large portrait of one Barnaby Ryker. That was far more unexpected than anything else.

Did she want to accept any food or drink in this very real definition of a hellhole? No. Not really. She ought to have just turned on her heels and fled from the moment she lay eyes on it. But that was impolite. Hjørdis was forcing herself - with every single fibre of her being - to staying. "Tea would be lovely, thank you," She replied with a nod of her head, accepting the drink. If nothing else, at least the tea was hot. Hot water killed whatever germs the woman was trying to feed her.

Hjørdis picked up her own cup of tea, silently questioning if she actually wanted to drink it. Nonetheless, she made her way over to another chair, politely seating herself down in it with her teacup.

Olphie's choice of outfit was... questionable, to say the least. It was a lot brighter and more energetic that Hjørdis liked. It was a bit too much for, well, not being on the runway but Hjørdis accepted the eccentric outfit. Her make up, on the hand, was far more interesting - or worrying. The Slytherin had no idea where to look. If she looked at it for too long, she was worried she'd burst into laughter and that... was probably not an ideal first impression.

Her eyebrow twitched a little as she heard the name. What was with Flying Professors and their peasized brains that failed to remember such simple names?! Whilst she admitted that 'Hjørdis' was quite difficult for most people to say, there was a reason that she had written 'Nora Jensen' on all of her papers. Nora was incredibly simple to say - as was Jensen. Yet both Ryker and Bercegeay had successfully butchered saying her name. Hjørdis waved her hand a little, "Jensen will do," She reinstated, deciding it would be much easier to go by her surname and her first.

Hjørdis pushed past it. Perhaps Flying Professors had simply been hit in the head too many times by bludgers to get names right. "I'd like to borrow some equipment." The Professor said, directly, deciding that there was no point in small talk because... well, she was being weirded out here. She may as well get to the point of her appearing here. 

An average person would have noticed the raise of brow or the uncomfortable manner with which Hjørdis held herself, but Olphie was far from average. She was exceptional - exceptionally unaware of social cues, that is.

Olphie continued to carry herself with the confidence and grace that her counterpart lacked, humming as she continued to settle herself properly in the leather armchair. The only struggle, Olphie found, with dresses was that they tended to be a bit tight for when an individual wished to relax, and she wanted to ensure that her coworker would find the office to be a peaceful environment. She seemed a bit...stuffy. Actually, it probably would be best if she opened a window in efforts to air the stuffiness out.

Perching her teacup on the arm in an ominously unstable position before she proceeded, Olphie made her way to the window as Nonintimidating clarified that "Jersey would do." The brunette couldn't help but freeze as she wondered why the woman would continually restate her name, even raising an eyebrow as she creaked the window open. The brow movement disappeared before she turned, unnoticed by her visitor, as only a smile lay on her face instea. Olphie could not imagine being so rude to someone on their first real interaction, but she could not help to wonder if Normandy was having an identity crisis.

Luckily, Olphie was the type who thrived off of assisting others, especially those who reeked of power. She knew the woman's title, knew what she could get her as a coworker and as a friend. At the very least, all Olphie wanted was an extension to her already impressively-sized wardrobe. Norman looked unimpressive style-wise upon initial glance in this office, though Olphie could not deny she was fit and still managed to achieve beauty with ease. She had, however, kept an eye on Nod upon her arrival at Hogwarts; with every move she made in the Great Hall, Olphie watched her flawlessly demonstrate traits of confidence and style so effortlessly. Northpole Gelatin clearly knew what she was doing.

Olphie settled back into the armchair, narrowly missing knocking the precariously-situated teacup as she crossed her legs. The scattered bruises that littered her shins would imply that perhaps this showing of clumsiness was not an outlier but the norm. Even if that Head of Slytherin noticed these imperfections, Olphie would be concentrated on her request, unaware of any slip of the eye.

"Equipment?" she inquired, curiously. What in the world could the Head of Slytherin be doing with Flying equipment? Olphie mulled over the possibilities when the answer hit her. It was obvious, of course. The Flying professor could identify such ambition, though in her new role she could not condone it. "Now, you aren't trying to jinx my things to ensure that tryouts go well or a game leans in your favor, are you, Jezebel? I'm afraid I cannot support cheating... you should know this, dear."

But still, the statement lingered with curious thoughts far after the words escaped her tongue. Olphie could not help but ask further, "Were you a Slytherin at Hogwarts, dear? I daresay I see a sense of strength in you that is unique to the Slytherin House."

The question would still come off as boisterous, jolly even, as she asked it, effortless though she was trying to impress with her purposed questions. A wide, closed-lipped smile befell her face as she took a sip of tea and watched the silver-haired woman expectantly.

Hjørdis watched her colleague open up a window after balancing a cup of tea in a terrible spot. Regret was perhaps the best word for her feelings at this time. Nonetheless, she sat politely and sipped on her tea as she attempted to make conversation with the strange lady. She said nothing as her eyes fell onto a rather bruised shin but silently wondered if it was clumsiness, a lack of attention or her passion for Quidditch.

The sport itself was always dangerous, in her own eyes. There was a reason she never really liked it. Flying itself was mildly fun but Quidditch was just unnecessarily violent and something children should not have to play. It was for this reason that she was tempted to roll her eyes when the flying professor accused her of cheating. She did not care enough about Quidditch to even bother with such a thing. Besides, if she was going to do it, she certainly would not be so foolish as to jinx equipment that she had borrowed. It was far too obvious for her. There were plenty of other ways to trick the system - ways that would not directly point to her.

Quirking an eyebrow as the odd lady called her 'Jezebel', after she had already corrected her multiple times. It seemed to be done on purpose at this point but she said nothing on that matter, this time around. She waved her hand, dismissing it, "The students will earn their result on their own merit. I have no interest in making it easier for them," She replied, deciding that if they won because she helped them to cheat then it would not really count as a win for them anyway. Winning on someone else's efforts was just pity. It was boring.

"I am considering holding a few extracurricular sports and activities for the students. It seemed wise to have a look at the equipment we already have here, that I could borrow for this, before purchasing any more," Hjørdis explained, in a matter of fact tone. She took a sip of her tea once she had finished speaking.

It appeared that her colleague wanted to continue the conversation with small talk. Hjørdis disliked small talk a lot but it was something she was starting to get used to. Having colleagues was definitely a challenge for the professor but hey, she did always enjoy a good challenge. Lightly shaking her head, "No. I did not attend Hogwarts myself," She replied, "However, I would assume so by the fact that I'm heading up the house." Hjørdis did not bother to add too much detail onto her words, deciding it was rather unnecessary to go into how different Uagadou was. But she did go on to answering the question, with the hope that Bercegeay was satisfied enough with the answer to well... leave her alone.

She already regretted coming here but hey, she needed the equipment.

Reducio

did u miss me? 

Northface waved as she said her next words, and Olphie wondered why in the world she was saying hello when talking about Quidditch. Unless........she was saying goodbye? Or maybe there was a fly in her way. Her quarters were so filthy because of those lazy house elves that she knew it was probably the third one. 

She was far too distracted on the irritating house elves to realize any sort of cold tone from her conversation partner. "Marriage?" The woman tittered absentmindedly, "Well I should certainly hope that you have no interest in making it easier, they're all - what, twelve?" Pausing, a look of bemused enchantment covered her face as the self-proclaimed "hot commodity" pondered just how old she would have been when she was at Hogwarts. Hadn't she had her first kiss at 11? Marriage might not be that unreasonable at twelve... "Invite me to the ceremonies if they still manage to find their soulmates on the pitch. I have the perfect dress..."

With these words, Olphie attempted to make eye contact with the beauty and felt a warm tug of tension at her heart. This woman had to be part veela, or something, the way she reeked of the sensual, alluring aroma of burnt marshmallows.

...No. Hotness. Whatever hotness smelled like. 

Maybe, if Olphie was lucky, she'd be able to have a perfect dress to the wedding and the perfect date. But no, wait, she already was trying to win over Caradoc. If, for some odd reason, that failed (though of course it wouldn't; Olphie had means for it to succeed beyond her own temptations)...then she could continue the fantasy of Hardass Norman Jetski. For now, she would just fancy her as a best friend. 

What was she going on about, anyway? Nokia was lucky that she was so beautiful and powerful, because, as much as it pained Olphie to admit it, she was quite dull. Equipment. What was she, a Muggle gym teacher? Olphie didn't just have balls and rods and bats and parachutes for the children to play with; her focus was on one thing, and one thing alone: Quidditch. Not the follies of youth. If Y'oldest wanted things for extracurricular activities, she should have used her brain just a bit more and wondered about more important things to Olphie, like make up and bracelet making materials. Not games that make your face all sweaty and ugly, as though you need a shower.

Olphie would give the woman another chance to ask a better, more well-thought out question. Instead, she would focus on Nomansland's next statement. Licking her lips salaciously, she murmured, "Mmm...you're foreign. I've always wanted to-"

No, Olphie, you cannot finish the sentence with "to win over an exotic beauty" when you are trying to win over Jemstone's colleague. They would talk. This place was unlike the greater world, where you could pursue fifty wizards and witches at the same time, so long as you avoided the tabloids. No repercussions. But here, there were children, and children gossiped, and until Olphie established herself as a proper Hogwarts professor, she needed to cool the fires of temptation that burned inside of her. She took a sip of tea as she thought and, upon lowering the cup, finished with, "meet someone from another school. Where did you attend, dear?"

It was a save not unlike the match in which Olphie saved the Harpies from utter embarrassment by leading the team to victory. Flawless. She wouldn't be surprised if Jerome was so impressed that she leapt out of her chair and smooched Olphie with such fierce passion from sheer admiration. Neither could deny the tension between them.

Hjørdis blinked. Marriage? She had no idea how the conversation went from Quidditch to marriage. There was no similarities between the two. And yet, the flying professor decided that the perfect way to continue a conversation about cheating in quidditch was to reply speaking about twelve year olds getting married. Saying Hjørdis was confused was an understatement. She was beyond baffled. ". . . Right . . . I'll be sure to let you know. . ." Hjørdis  replied, still confused. At this point in time, she just wanted to get out of the room now. She was quickly regretting being in here and leaving seemed like the safest option. Agreeing was far easier than questioning this madness. What was wrong with this woman?

The head of house blinked some more as the flying professor linked her lips before making a comment about her being foreign and what she's always wanted to... Well, she did not finish the sentence and Hjørdis, for one, was incredibly grateful that she did not. The curious cat within her kind of wanted to know where that sentence was going but she knew a lot better than to ask. There were many things that she expected in life. This conversation was beyond her imagination. Quirking an eyebrow, Hjørdis paused to see if she added anything else.

The woman continued to add meeting someone from another school. That seemed a little unlikely but Hjørdis feigned innocence and ignorance and accepted it, "Uagadou," She replied, in a matter of fact tone to avoid continuing the conversation for more time than necessary, "I'll need to borrow a couple of bludgers, bats, and a few snitches," She explained her reason for coming here as succiently as she could so she could escape quickly. 

Hjørdis was arrogant enough to think everyone would hit on her but honestly, she did expect it from a colleague in the early hours of the morning in their very first meeting. Especially not when the colleague had half a face of make up. Even in her exercise clothes, Hjørdis certainly looked better dressed than this lady. "Perhaps it will be better to come back another time," She added quickly, as an afterthought, trying to escape quickly.

Though Hjopeless may have been baffled, Olphie knew she was just confused as to why she would know of a marriage proposal before Olphie. After all, though Olphie did not know the woman well, she knew that her reputation was a woman of distance, emotionally and physically. She served her role well, but she wasn't nearly as accessible as Olphie would be. Sometimes, Olphie wondered how Hjordis got her role as Head of House anyway. Was it just because she was hot? Probably...

Nonetheless, she nodded genially at the Slytherin, and with as much conviction as Hjordis had confusion, said, "Thank you very much, dear!"

The woman suddenly seemed very brief in her responses, and Olphie wondered if she was getting uncomfortable about the fact that Hjordis was in the presence of someone who was much more socially adept than she. Again, Olphie smiled genially, in hopes to ease the woman's nerves, and when she stated that she should perhaps come back another time, the Flying Professor clapped her hands together and stated, "Why of course not, you've only just gotten here! I'll be happy to get you those supplies, dear, but only after I get you a cup of tea. That would be incredibly rude for me to just let you come in and leave without receiving any of my signature hospitality! Black, white, or green?"

She flicked her wand to begin boiling more water and moved to grab her stash of tea bags, waiting for the woman's command as to what kind of tea she would like. While she decided, though, Olphie figured it would be good to continue the hospitality by making conversation, so she asked, "Do they have Quidditch at Oogabooga? What's it like there? Do they have houses? I just have never met someone from there; it's all so fascinating!"

Hjørdis had few words for this whole situation. She knew one thing though: she was never coming back here. This place was a whole new kind of hell for the lady. She was relieved for a brief moment when the flying professor said she would fetch the requested supplies happy. This moment was very shortlived, of course. Hjørdis blinked at the offer of a tea. Lifting her cup of tea - that Olphie had given to her only a few minutes early - she shook her head, "No thank you, I'm still nursing this one." Hjørdis replied as politely as she could.  Was this tea cup even clean? She really did not want to drink or eat anything in this environment - lord knows what her new colleague thought was appropriate for tea. Perhaps salt instead of sugar?

Had Olphie really just forgotten that she had already given Hjørdis a cup of tea? It certainly seemed like that. Nonetheless, out of sheer politeness - and mostly to get out of here as quickly as possible - the head of slytherin took a sip from the cup that she had raised to show her colleague.

It took every ounce of control not to spit out the tea as the flying professor asked about Oogabooga. It literally took Hjørdis about three seconds to work out what she meant. Uagadou. Not even close to Oogabooga but there was nothing else that would make sense. Given how many times the strange woman had messed up her name, it seemed like names were not her forte. "Yes, Uagadou is similar to here, I guess. Though it's built in the mountains, surrounded by the clouds. I'm sure you would love it there. Perhaps if they have a job opening, you might like it." Hjørdis replied, trying to give her as much information as she could but without actually getting into a full conversation about it. She really wanted to leave, not stay here for hours chatting about school life. That was a long time ago. Though she would not be sad if the professor decided to change jobs, even though this was the first meeting. Her impression was already partially horrified. 

Jellystone's comment about the tea, the way she held up the cup, made Olphie laugh uncontrollably. This is what happened when you were surrounded by such beauty; you forgot the simplist things! The laugh continued on and on, as Olphie could not believe how impossibly enamored she was with the woman in front of her, and though it was far too much laughing for a nonexistant joke, she would continue to be unaware of any uncomfortable displays of emotion from her partner.

Her laughter only subsided when Hoethemess spoke of her school; almost immediately, the Flying Professor's expression changed to one of rapt attention. Olphie had grown up not knowing of magic, then went to Hogwarts, then left for the Harpies almost immediately after graduation. Life in the British and Irish Quidditch League did not lend for much time to travel, so she could not imagine what a magic school in the mountains looked like. And though she may be interested in teaching there in the future, as Homeless suggested, she certainly wasn't now, not so soon after getting her position at her favorite school, Hogwarts. A less enthusiastic chuckle emitted from her lips, less amused at the joke than her own forgetfulness. 

She had one more question, though, and she could not let the woman leave without answering it. "I've been wondering for a while..." Olphie began tentatively, not sure where to start. "Well, this is somewhat embarrassing to ask, but I have not found any information anywhere, and I know we professors are supposed to know everything, so... With a name like Ugottapoo, does the school have an abundance of, er, excretement?"

Flustered by the question that she felt she had to ask, the Flying professor raised her tea to her lips once more. Hopefully Harkless would not judge her too much for the question.