Missing Person PV: Flash Holmwood

It was the afternoon, only a matter of time before Flash would have to get dressed and collect the cake for Willow and Alan’s birthday party. He tried to focus on the evening study he usually did for the day, but with an event where he was responsible looming overhead, he found himself continually drawn to thoughts of the cake, hoping that it was being made correctly. He hated even the smallest things being out of his control. The sooner he could look at the cake and verify its quality, the better.

He wouldn’t have to be distracted for too long, since his table was approached by a slovenly first year, somehow seeming to walk directly at him, even though Flash couldn’t put a name to his face. He, however, seemed to have no trouble at all putting a name to him. The wrong one.

Hearing it suddenly out of nowhere after having so comfortably been addressed by the name he preferred for almost the entire school year, Flash had a mind to go off on the goblin, but after his argument with Sylvain, he had to remember to keep his feelings about it more in check. After all, there were ways to find it out that didn’t involve wanting to hurt or expose him. Still, he had to be careful.

”Please don’t call me that. I prefer the name ‘Flash.’” Even though Flash’s voice was calm and patient, his eyebrow twitched and he rapidly tapped his finger against the book he was reading. ”Who is asking?”

@George Henry

Flash was calm and steady, but there were cracks, and George took note. There was a sense of guilt as he noticed the other boy's obvious irritation, but there was work to be done. His careful observation ended soon enough, however. The boy admitted it outright. He was Demetrius, and Demetrius was him. Despite his lack of courtesy in greeting the boy, he gave him a respectful bow and took up a seat across from him, occupying the space uninvited. He had expected this method could be a bit damaging in the start, but was sure with a little charm that he could make it back into the good graces of Flash.

"Sorry," the boy said once, and then again, adjusting his tone to not disrupt the quiet of the library. This was a private conversation, after all. "Sorry."

The young Hufflepuff began setting his implements out on the study table - his journal opened to a dogeared page with the name Demetrius Holmwood on the top. He flicked out his occamy-blue quill with a flourish, letting the swishy feather lay on the table's surface as he brought out an ink pot to wet it in. But before that could happen, a proper introduction was in order.

"I'm George Henry, and I'm a writer for the Hogwarts Headliner. It's really a pleasure to meet you, mister... Flash. Flash Holmwood, is that alright?" He stuck his arm out toward the boy, eager to shake hands with him. If this young Slytherin was a fraction of the boy his older brother had been, it was essential that George make a good impression. Despite his ladder-climbing mindset, the boy still had an air of comfort and levity. His first act with the newly wet quill was to slash across Demetrius' name, writing beneath it his preferred moniker - Flash. He flashed a smile to Flash afterward, hoping the gesture would comfort him somewhat. "I was writing an article about star students hoping to inspire some of the first-years about- uh- their options on graduation, and sort of give them something to... a reason to work hard."

It sounded stupid when you explained it. George could feel his shoulders slumping as the professional journalist persona slipped off and he became his usual self, struggling to focus on the singular task he'd laid out for himself. But he was here now, and there was work to be done.

"I was reading about your older brother Valerius - absolutely amazing stuff. I really would like to be just like him, so I was trying to... get a better sense of that feeling... to get a better article. Do you know what I mean?" That was a bit casually phrased, though the pace was brisk and businesslike. "Would you mind talking with me a bit?"

In the next few moments after he introduced himself, George began to lay an exorbitant amount of things on the library table. It wasn’t the reaction that Flash had expected after his admittedly cold opening. He asked if ‘Flash Holmwood’ was correct, to which Flash could only absently nod in order to keep from saying something catty. Next, he offered his hand to shake, which Flash couldn’t refuse. He stood slightly to accept it properly and do his due diligence with putting his best foot forward, as it were. He would never be forgiven if he gave a sloppy handshake, something so simple yet absolutely fundamental to making a proper first impression. After that though he sat back down right away, his face remaining placid and analytical.

Already in a somewhat irritable mood before the tornado had arrived, he listened to George explain his reason for being there. Namely, that he was writing for the paper, and wanted to write a piece about star students as inspiration for others. For a flicker of a moment, Flash thought he had been sought out for his own academic prowess-- though getting straight O’s was not a stellar accomplishment in its own right, being achieved by many students in the school. He had been right to diminish himself, as George quickly followed with even more dreadful words than just his detested name.

The boy, quill in hand, was asking him to sing his brother’s praises. Flash had to put considerable effort into keeping his expression in check. He wanted to narrow his eyes and sneer at him, but logic kept him from lashing out. No one could read his mind, this indolent scatterbrain couldn’t know that there was nothing that Flash would like to talk about less. The tapping restarted, Flash needing an outlet for the complex feeling the question gave him.

In the right time and place, he could very easily offer a litany of bountiful adulation over his oldest brother. He loved him dearly, he was by far the kindest, most intelligent person he knew, and he idolized the strength he had to continue to fight for the right thing, against wave after wave of push back. Anyone would be lucky to be half the man he was, not only from his accomplishments, but from his undeniable charisma and influence.

This was not the right time and place, however. Flash gritted his teeth, trying not to show it, but failing to keep his upper lip from grimacing. Having the most exemplary Holmwood of them all lauded and glorified in the school newspaper would invite further questions and discussion. It would invite peering eyes into the trophy room’s collection, perhaps even pestering. It would invite a shadow over everything Flash was trying to accomplish, the towering shadow of an unreachable ivory tower.

How could he explain the feeling that it gave him-- something altogether very selfish, yet important to him? Especially to the chattering, messy badger before him. Flash scoured his face for a sign of malicious intent, or derision, but found only innocent curiosity. In the past Flash would have been very invested in getting in good graces with someone from the newspaper, but he had no other option but to put him down as gently as possible. The tapping stopped, and Flash heaved a dramatic sigh.

”Yes. I’m sorry to say, I would mind.” Flash worked so hard to keep from frowning, that his blank face began to take on an uncanny sinister bent. ”Maybe I could help you think of another topic. One that stays out of my family’s business.”

@George Henry

George's quill hovered over his parchment as he waited for Flash to respond to him, watching the Slytherin boy with a pained smile. He had expected a more enthusiastic response from the young Holmwood. If George's older older brother was half as talented, he would be more than eager to publish his name in the paper. Even if all he was was just another wizard, he would have been overjoyed. It was too late for that now, though. His jaw tensed a bit as he recalled that - nobody got in after eleven.

The Hufflepuff was mirroring the pained grimace of Flash, watching his expression change and the tapping start again. How could he have caused so much discomfort with such a simple proposal? Maybe it had been the approach. He had expected to catch his interviewee off guard with it. Maybe he had pushed too far, and now Flash was clamming up. Chalk it up to poor journalism. George would be kicking himself for the rest of the week.

"Oh, no. It's okay," George assured him, trying to put his smile back on despite the weight in his chest. The look on Flash's face could curdle milk. He was polite, but there was something being held back. George had no such restraint. "I already have a lot about your family's business, I was mostly looking for an opinion."

George brightened up, misinterpreting Flash's suggestion that George should buzz off as a consolation. Perhaps the Slytherin boy simply misunderstood what he was looking for - he didn't want any business, he wanted a personal perspective. There was a personal element to the story for George, too. Being a first-year from such a prodigious family must have felt amazing. It was unlike any of his own experience. Everywhere he went, he felt like he was looking up at people. All of the real wizards regarded him like he smelled of new magic.

"If you really don't want to talk, that's fine, I have enough for a small piece." George didn't understand the kind of threat he was making with that statement. If he did, he probably would have said it anyway. As it was, he delivered it with perfect innocence. With that matter settled in his mind, he glanced down at the table. "What'cha studying?"

Flash thought the interaction was all but complete, but his companion had a completely different idea. In fact, his idea was hideous. A threat. Flash’s eyes narrowed, looking for any kind of sign that this buffoon had some kind of grand designs to harm his reputation.

Nothing, a newborn babe.

That wasn’t the end of it, though, he could easily enough have been goaded on by a greater evil. Someone who wanted him to become a target. He had to think who could benefit from too much attention on himself… could it be something to do with any of the leads he had been following in regards to the spider attack?

That made no sense, since they had all lead nowhere. When George tried to change the subject to the book on the table, Flash was reminded of one of those embarrassing ‘leads’ that he followed. Being a book about demons, Flash unsubtly dropped another book on top of it to conceal the cover. He didn’t want to have to explain that one.

”Where did you learn about Valerius?” Flash immediately started up with his own questions. If he really was a reporter, he should be used to explaining his sources. ”Why are you researching my family?”

He thought it was a fair question, no need to gussy it up.

@George Henry

Flash's eyes narrowed. George's eyebrows lifted. He had been ready to accept a refusal, but the subject of his manhunt seemed outright hostile to the idea of ending up in the newspaper. The thought of it was nonsensical to George - why would someone from an esteemed family be afraid of having their name published? It's not like people couldn't find out enough already. Was it just the students at Hogwarts who he wanted to keep a secret from? Something clicked in George's brain - Flash, not Demetrius. This rich kid was undercover.

The sudden cover up drew George's eye to the subject of the book - something he never would have otherwise noticed, had Flash not made such an effort to hide it. The Holmwood boy seemed to be making a habit out of that. The Hufflepuff boy glanced down, then back up, looking the boy in the face. Part of his mind lit up like a Christmas tree - was he trying to summon demons? Was he part of the attacks? Did he think Gryffindor was behind it too? But the boy had spent enough time reading anti-werewolf publications to know that your reading list doesn't always align with your intentions. Maybe the boy was just studying.

George sat upright as he was put under questioning. Although this wasn't the shape he had expected the interview to take, he was happy to absorb as much information as he could from the questioning. You can tell a lot about people from what they want to know about. His eyes darted, momentarily, back to the demon book. Probably nothing.

"You can get old copies of the Daily Prophet in the library," he replied placidly, gesturing around them. "He caught my eye - he's quite an influential activist, you know - and since he works in the Ministry, you can get a lot of detail about him if you write in. Mostly from papers, though."

George shrugged, trying to diffuse some of the intensity that Flash was bringing to the table. A part of him hoped that his carefree attitude would incense the Slytherin to ask a more revealing question. But it was cruel to hope for that, so he tried to ignore it as much as he could while still hoping for it.

There was no rest in the conversation. This was exactly the sort of situation he had nightmares about whenever a stranger approached him. Of course, it wasn’t a surprise that someone who wanted to know about Valerius would not have a hard time learning more. George hadn’t really answered his question at all, unless he was implying that he just read old newspapers in his free time for fun, and picked him out with passing interest.

Not that it wasn’t entirely possible that was true. Not only that, but anyone could go into the trophy room and pick out any head boy or girl from a given year at Hogwarts and probably find an exemplary student. Flash simply hadn’t expected that kind of journalistic ability in someone so young. Perhaps he was actually an astute investigator, despite looking like a chipmunk. Flash had to make sure to stop underestimating him immediately.

”I see.” Flash gave an answer that gave nothing away, folding his hands in front of him. He wasn’t going to let go of his suspicions until he could break down George’s character properly. ”I’m sorry if it seemed like I was jumping down your throat. Given that I don’t talk about my personal life much at Hogwarts, it was a bit alarming to be reminded of it out of nowhere.”

Flash had a wide variety of choices on how he could continue from there. Having set the atmosphere back to a more professional tone, he could begin speaking with more direct intent.

”I would like to keep it that way. I’m glad you respect my brother, but I hope you’ll respect me as well when I ask you to pick another student for your article. I can’t make you stop, but I hope you’ll have the integrity to honor my wishes.” Flash saw the ever-present glint in the boy’s eyes, he was undoubtedly hoping for something scandalous. There was a good chance his distancing from his family name was peaking his curious interest. He would have to put a stop to that. ”I would be happy to tell you whatever you would like to know… off the record.”

@George Henry

There was a good chance that George did read newspapers in his free time for fun, but he wouldn't admit it. It didn't seem as remarkable to him that someone would do that, but he understood that there were many unremarkable things that one would be embarrassed to share with their peers. For example, being a Hufflepuff. Even being a bad person would be more interesting than being an average one. But being bad took quite a bit of effort, and he preferred to save his mental energy for writing and reading newspapers.

Flash's stoic response was disappointing, but George gave a forgiving smile when he heard the other boy apologize. He couldn't help but chuckle a bit, too. The tone of professionalism in a conversation between two twelve year olds made him feel like he was a real reporter, rather than just a nosy twerp on the school newspaper. Remove the 'school' bit and he was just a regular reporter, he guessed. He scooted his butt back on his chair, leaning against the back to straighten his posture out. No looking like a slouch.

"Your personal life?" he repeated, giggling to himself. He couldn't hide his smirk. "Is Hogwarts not your personal life? What is it, your job?"

The idea of taking your studies seriously, having even a concept of a career plan beyond "I want to be this when I grow up", or distinguishing personal and professional life was alien to George. If he was alarmed by the idea of talking about it, there must be some kind of deep dark secret behind it all. Maybe that's why he wanted him out of his family's business - was there some kind of corruption? He didn't want to believe it, so he didn't. There had to be good guys at the ministry. Valerius was one.

George had every intention of leaving the topic alone. When the offer for an off-the-record chat appeared, George snatched it up in an instant. He slapped his journal shut - ruining the pages he was on by smearing the wet ink around them. But he wouldn't notice that until later. His eyes were locked on his target.

"Did your brother do something wrong?" he wondered aloud. "No article - don't worry. Just a bit odd that you wouldn't want to talk about him. He seems... very nice, but that's just what I read. Is it a lie?"

George had seemed to settle himself in-- he was getting comfortable. Flash looked idly around the library if there was anyone he knew that he could make eye contact with that would come and save him from this interaction. Instead he found the library was mostly empty at this time, right after classes many of the students were catching up with their friends while they were still full of energy. Only a paltry few students were around, their faces stuck in some study material. He didn’t know why his mind was drawn specifically to her, but he wished Persephone was there to have locked eyes with him again. Maybe she would have ushered George out like a bouncer in a club.

Since he had no one, he had to humor George’s line of questioning politely. He hadn’t exactly set the tone well from the start, still a bit more concerned about the cake than this reporter’s needling curiosity.

”You don’t see it as an academic career then?” Flash stated it as if it were obvious that he took his schooling as seriously as if it were a job, his future depending on it. ”That’s fine if you don't agree, but as you happen to know, I have a standard to maintain. The grades I get and the connections I form are a part of this ‘job’. Perhaps it’s only semantics, but when I think of my ‘personal life’, I think of things like my opinion on my family members. Seems rather personal to me.”

He doubted it was the answer he wanted to hear, but Flash was almost starting to enjoy giving George answers he didn’t want. It wasn’t often that he was conversing with someone who was paying close attention to what he was saying, and how. Only a few people their age seemed to be ‘tapped in’ to how tricky conversation had the capacity to become. Flash himself had read countless books about it, from Valerius’ personal collection. He wondered if he could give enough evasive and vaguely polite answers to make him decide to never be interested in the Holmwoods again.

But George was brash, unapologetic, slamming his book shut, no doubt smearing Flash’s preferred name into an illegible blot. His first ‘off the record’ question was a doozy, immediately insinuating that Valreius was secretly an underhanded crook. Trying to get under his skin, Flash assumed, or similarly, just a starving child craving drama. He seemed so excited to be asking, Flash had to stop himself from scowling at him.

”It’s not a lie. My brother is practically a saint, I don’t think he could do something wrong.” Flash said his honest feelings, though cursed himself swiftly for it.

He naturally wanted to come to his brother's defense, but Val himself told Flash never to over-embellish someone’s reputation. It would only make it seem more like a lie or a cover. That was another annoying aspect of truth, even though that was how Flash honestly saw Val, saying it aloud gave all kinds of unintended impressions. That Flash worshiped him, or that Valerius had brainwashed him. No one was really ‘saintly’, so it was suspicious to call someone such. On the contrary, Flash saw Valerius as a saint. Completely untouchable, as if merely gracing the earth with his presence. Part of that untouchable nature was also his humbleness, making sure to not appear so unapproachable as to ward people off.

”Ah, well, maybe ‘saint’ is a bit hyperbolic.” Flash redacted his comment after pausing for only a moment. ”I’m always amazed at the things he is able to accomplish. I can only hope to become even half the man he is, I feel lucky to have been able to learn what I could from him. When our sister Marius discovered she was a squib, he became immediately involved in squib rights activism. He was 19-years-old at the time, and had only just started his political career. For most people that would have been career suicide, but he managed to make it work, even flourishing.”

Flash paused, realizing he had started to opine. He didn’t get many opportunities to talk about his brother openly like that, most of his opinions on him had always just been in his head. Also, hadn’t he said a bit too much? He didn’t know what articles George had read, so he didn’t know if he knew about his sister or how Val had got a job directly out of Hogwarts, attending college at the same time. Flash suddenly realized he had no idea how much information about his family was public knowledge.

In Durham, he expected most of his classmates to know his family history intimately, since he was one of the richest kids in the school, and their social gatherings were a coveted invitation. That was different though, they were a local name there. In Hogwarts, Holmwood was just another British surname like anyone else's. He had never gone through to look up what all had been published about them-- as important as that seemed, it actually sounded like an unendingly boring task. It didn’t even occur to him to do so.

”Actually, you probably already knew that.” Flash waved the information off as if it were nothing.

@George Henry