Harpies of a Feather PV Olphie

The end of the month tended to bring a surge of homework, with students realizing that there were many assignments that they could have completed earlier and had forgotten. When Olphie was a student, she had been no different - always putting things off until the last minute, wanting to study boys more passionately than books. She did not particularly like grading homework, much like her childhood self had not enjoyed doing it, but Olphie understood that she was a staff member and getting paid for things like grading homework, so she did it as dilligently as possible. It was hardest, though, when these surges of homework came in; though she empathized with the students' procrastination, she felt as though they did not realize just how many people had the same tactics.

She had to admire the students' ambition, however. They got house points for completion of homework, based on grades, and sometimes the houses used the last few days of the month to sneak up in house points. It was a clever scheme, one she would have utilized in her days, just as much as the method of procrastination.

When these giant piles overwhelmed her, she often got lost in her work, oblivious to the sounds around her. Though her corner of the castle tended to be quiet, there were often bouts of loud noises or children walking by, enjoying the ever-warming weather. It was for this reason that, though she sensed a disruption in the quiet of this day, she did not take much note of it, instead focusing on a second year's essay on brooms. She was nearly halfway through when the sound became clearer, and it registered within her that that noise had come from her work area, after all. 

Oh well, a break was welcomed to disrupt large spurts of work. Olphie relaxed her quill and stood, curious to see who would come knocking on this fine day. When she opened the door, she smiled as she found a brown-haired girl, who she vaguely recognized as someone who was a fresh face to the castle, though she did not understand in what right mind a parent would be in to send their child back to Hogwarts near the end of the school year. She knew, though, that the girl was far behind due to her parents' foolish decisions, so it was actually quite perfect that this child appeared at her door today, right as she was graded one of the many homeworks she missed.

Though these details all came rushing back to her, she did not know the girl's name. Olphie wasn't too concerned; it was okay to forget a name every now and then. It came with the job, as there were so many students. She knew that the girl would understand, too, as she beckoned her in and said loudly, "Come in Miss...dear, remind me of your name again?"

Olphie retrieved the tea which laid beside the retired quill and took a sip of it before she sat down in her armchair, crossed her legs, and asked, "Are you here to discuss your grade, dear?"

Anastasia smiled at the professor when the door swung open, trying to conceal her nerves. Being a tad behind in second year wouldn't completely mess up her future, right? Except, she wasn't a tad behind - she had missed the first 6 months of school. That wasn't even counting the month she had missed at the end of first year. With most of her other classwork, her tutor had been able to teach her and stay fairly on course with the Hogwarts teachers. With flying, there hadn't been much the woman could do. It dawned upon the Gryffindor that she had gone nearly a year without a Hogwarts flying lesson. Bloody hell...

Still, her goal in life was to be a Quidditch player, and she wasn't about to let something like this stop her. Anastasia was the kind of person who simply couldn't walk away from a challenge, no matter how impossible. It was one of her greatest strengths when it came to preserving through a difficult task, and one of her greatest weaknesses when it came to abandoning a lost cause. She knew this was the former, simply because it had to be.

Entering the room, she scanned her surroundings. It was the pinkest room she had ever seen. She knew her parents would utterly hate it and likely call it 'tacky' or something along those lines. Her parents had this bizarre hatred of the color pink, saying it was immature and that anyone who wore pink or had noticeable pink in their living space simply could not be taken seriously. So, naturally, pink was Anastasia's favorite color in the world. That was part of the reason that she absolutely loved this office. The other reason that she could think of off the top of her head was it was, like many of her favorite places at Hogwarts, clearly a place that was lived in. Unlike the museum-like mansions and manors of purebloods, the room looked like it functioned and things actually happened here. 

She noticed a portrait of the former professor Ryker. Seeing as it was right above the bed, Anastasia rather wondered if the woman looked at that every night before going to sleep. What on Earth was she thinking about? Her train of thought had been utterly derailed in the space of a second or two, and she sincerely hoped the professor hadn't noticed. 

At Professor Bercegeay's prompting, Anastasia snapped back to the present. "Oh, of course," she said, clasping her hands behind her back in an attempt to midgate her fidgeting. "I'm Anastsia, Anastsia Beckett. I mostly go by Ana though." She chided herself as her sudden verbosity. It didn't matter what she went by, since she wasn't here to talk about that. When the woman asked if she was there to discuss her grade, Ana nodded emphatically before speaking. Lovely, now she didn't look like an overly talkative nervous wreck, she looked like a mute nervous wreck. 

"Yes, Professor," she began, exhaling. After a moment of mentally composing herself. "It's a rather long story, but I haven't been here since last May. I was sick and then we were in India and then someone died. Anyway, I was able to keep up in most of my other lessons, but I wasn't able to learn much more flying, so I expect I'm a bit behind." She sounded calmer now, but she doubted the older woman appreciated her verbal diarrhea. She also realized it sounded rather like she had utterly neglected flying. "I practiced everything I learned in first year though, and I read practically every book about flying I could get my hands on that I hadn't already read. I love flying, and well, it's rather crucial for Quidditch, which is about all I want to do in life. My mother played on the Holyhead Harpies before, and I just know that's all I want to do." Blushing, she cut herself off, realizing she had said all that in approximately one breath. She still hadn't quite gotten to the point of why she was there, but she figured she ought to stop talking for a moment before she made even more of a fool of herself. 

THREAD ABANDONED