While Everything Burns Finished PV Alina Rosier

Most were gathered in the Courtyard for some free time after their third class that day but Alina hadn't made a lot of friends yet and had become quite the loner since being sorted at the beginning of the year. It made her quite quiet and when she did talk, she was quite bitter, but who wouldn't be? She hated what that hat did to her and she hated her entire being.

She too had wandered into this same corridor and noticed the boy looking at the familiar painting. Come to think of it, she had noticed him admire it once or twice before. This was one of the paintings normally overlooked by the others but it captured Alina's attention because of how vastly different the girl was to her.

Approaching now and able to see the painting from the dim corridor, she tilted her head. "It's not like Poppy to be elsewhere," she said out loud and the boy glanced over to look at her. She paused a moment and gave the smallest of smiles because now she had to to explain her statement. Her eyes glanced down and she saw his Slytherin robes. At least that was a bit of a relief. If ANYONE seemed to remotely tolerate her, it was the Slytherins. Her rightful place.

"The girl in the painting...she's usually there amongst all the flowers," she pointed again but clearly she was talking about it. "I call her Poppy because it's Latin for flower and she's very calm, peaceful. It was the Ancient Greeks that thought the flower represented calmness. Besides, everyone seems to walk by without giving her much thought and that...just seems sad. I've seen you here before though, looking."

There had been quite a few students walking back and forth down the corridor, so he hadn’t paid any of them much mind. The area the painting was in was not terribly trafficked, but it was the middle of the day, so students were everywhere. Despite the few souls who walked by, the hall was still out of the way enough that it was particularly silent. The birds who had nested in the crevices of the castle walls could be heard tweeting joyfully in the warm, sunny day outside, but besides that, only the echoing footsteps of school regulation shoes tapping on the ancient stone could be heard.

Flash was not at all unused to being called out to when he was out and about in the castle, but the voice he heard was not connected to anything. It spoke of someone named Poppy, as though two students had been in the middle of a conversation but had only just continued it nearby. When he looked up from the wispy flowerbed, he saw a young girl looking directly at him. What… Did I do something wrong? It was a shame that was where his mind went first, but he could hardly be blamed for it given the last month. He tried to erase the surprise from his face, and replaced it with a warm smile.

The context followed anyway, thankfully. The girl seemed to not only be talking about the painting he was dutifully waiting by, but apparently knew her well enough to give her a name. Flash could almost feel jealous that ‘Poppy’ hadn’t told him. Though to feel jealous of a painting withholding information about herself also seemed a bit out of touch. He could instead feel glad that she was properly appreciated by more than only him. In fact, the girl lamented that Poppy was underappreciated, also noting her particular personality. He felt at ease knowing this girl had good taste, not just in art but in people.

”Poppy… I see, that’s a beautiful name.” He answered dreamily, turning his body and adjusting his posture to fit the conversation he now found himself engaged in.

Flash tried to discern more about the girl from looking at her, but all he could tell for certain was that she seemed fairly young, and she carried herself better than most her age. She didn’t slouch her shoulders, or keep her eyes on her feet. It was strange that her house was indistinguishable, the tie on her school uniform having been removed during the break in-between classes. Perhaps she disliked the feeling of the tie on her neck, or had an accident and needed it cleaned. Regardless, it was out of the ordinary.

”When I think of poppies... it reminds me of fallen soldiers. ‘Peace in death’ I think it’s supposed to mean. It seems rather fitting for a talking painting, doesn’t it? I wonder if the original Poppy has long since slipped off this mortal coil, leaving us this peaceful reminder of her likeness.”

Ah, what was he saying. He was letting his morose mood taint an otherwise promising conversation. Wasn’t he much more interested in what kind of person would talk to the same painting as he did?

”Excuse my rambling. May I hear your name as well?” Flash gave his hand to shake, a necessary step to introducing oneself properly. ”Mine is Flash Holmwood. It’s a pleasure.”

@Alina Rosier

Her name? Oh if he didn't know it, wasn't it better that way? She had made quite the repuation for herself on day one. Maybe she could get away with using her sister's name; they were identical twins after all. No, Bella was in Slytherin like him and maybe he knew her. But if he had...wouldn't he have assumed her to be her sister?

Now she was the one falling silent in what seemed to be a rather normal conversation. She could give him a fake name...but when one lies they have to start remembering all the lies and that was just sheer too much work! "Alina," she said to him and took the hand, giving it a proper handshake and then delivered a small curtey and smiled because how ridiculous it was! "Alina Rosier. And...I don't know if that's her name but it's what I decided to name her. Like, if I hadn't known your name but I began to come across you quite often, I'd name you too. I would have gone for Luke or Miles or something but Flash is much, much better," she complimented him on his name.

"And your thinking of poppies most likely comes from the poem: In Flanders Fields. Yes? He was a poet and a physican, and an author and an artist and a soldier..." She paused because she was rambling. "And I can barely manage to pass some of my first year classes."

Flash found it curious when the girl paused hesitantly to give her name. He was sure he already knew it, having memorized the names of all of the first year Slytherins as a matter of information gathering. He had only kept it to himself after all the situations where his knowing of someone's name before they told him ended in him being seen as creepy and suspicious. How strange it was then when she said ‘Alina’ instead of ‘Bella’. How had she given him two mysteries in such a short amount of time?

He had to chuckle a bit at her remark about giving him a name. While she had no way of knowing it, it gave him a deep sense of satisfaction that she agreed that he looked like someone with an easy, short name. Not some haughty four-syllable Greek mess. She even did him the favor of complimenting it. If she was trying to worm her way into his heart like the cold and calculating Slytherin she was, she was doing a very good job of it. Perhaps she had done her research on him and was watching his every move, trying to find the right time to strike.

While it was clear she was hiding something, Flash was swiftly distracted by her words to follow. She was a patron of the arts, not only did she see Poppy for the exemplary piece she was, but she was versed in poetry and the poets who wrote them. Flash didn’t need to maintain a polite, happy face, since his alight with genuine delight. He so rarely had the opportunity to discuss art with others. Not that he had any bitterness for the lack of art appreciation, he was not so callous as to judge 11-year-olds for their artistic taste.

But he had been trying to be less paranoid, trying to trust that people weren’t out to get him, even though the upcoming Blossom Ball should have been proof enough that being paranoid was justified. Normally, his inquisitive mind would start to try and pull the thread of truth out of her, but he had to fight his desire to yammer on about poetry instead.

”Don’t be so discouraged, a jack of all trades is a master of none.” Flash himself had no idea what kind of career he might be interested in heading towards, but he let his interests guide him, for the most part. His interest in Herbology, art, and music had been seen by him as mostly a hobby. ”If everyone was a Person of National Historic Significance, then it wouldn’t mean anything at all, would it?”

Perhaps those kinds of placation weren’t what the young student wanted to hear, but they usually calmed Flash. Trying to carve out a name for oneself was hard for anybody, and true excellence was difficult. Some would even say it was a waste of time, time that could be better spent with friends and family. It was a matter of priorities.

”I’m sure you’ll be able to find where you fit into the world in time. I don’t think anyone simply falls into the role they play. It’s a position you fight for.”

@Alina Rosier

"Fight for over time...as well as grow into; I hope," she added. "I mean to say...I haven't the slightest idea what I will do once these years are over but that's part of the point, right? You learn a variety of topics and you figure out which you like best. I'm a bit drawn to Potions myself. And herbology. I've also looked at a few rather remarkable books in the library on ..." she paused because she simply was babbling again. The boy probably wanted to get back to the painting. She had interrupted his train of thought after all. "...On things," she spoke softly.

She stood there, rather quiet for a moment and then ruffled into her bag to pull out a lemon drop and offered him the bag if he wished to take one. It was nice having an actual conversation in what felt like forever and frankly, she really didn't want it to end so quickly. There was still a great deal of time between now and the next set of classes.

"We could alw-ys go 'ooking for 'er," she said but then paused and her cheeks turned red. She laughed and glanced down, moving the lemon drop to the side of her mouth so she could talk properly. How rude of her! "We could always go looking for her," she repeated herself. "Poppy. I mean, if she's not here she has to be somewhere, right? Maybe visiting another painting? Maybe she's near the lake collecting her thoughts or seeing a sunset or hey....maybe she's got herself a gentleman friend," and she playfully nudged Flash with her elbow in his side softly.

Alina began to joyfully explain her own thoughts on the subject, seeming to have become just as quickly comfortable with Flash as he had with her. That was, until she trailed off suddenly. It seemed she had even more to hide, though Flash was starting to question her reason for hiding. Perhaps it wasn’t subterfuge at all, but rather a sense of self-loathing. It wasn’t as though it was too uncommon in growing children as they tried to discover who they were.

Imagining that scenario to be true, Flash felt a weak pang of guilt for how far he had gone in his scrutiny. Instead, it seemed like the impetus for the conversation was simple friendliness. When she reached into her bag and brought out a roughly handled bag of candies, the revelation hit him in an instant. She’s not a Slytherin… she acts more like a Hufflepuff.

Flash went ahead and took the offer. He didn’t have any reason to believe they were hexed, her body language was relaxed, even happy. Flash allowed himself to relax a bit more too. Flash liked Hufflepuffs, they radiated passion for life, and love for people. It was like quenching water for his withering heart.

Then, her teeth clacking against the hard candy quite audibly, she suggested they quest to find their friend. Quickly, she adjusted the candy to talk better, eliciting a laugh from Flash that he had to cover with his hand. Flash popped his own sample into his mouth to try it. He had never had one before, but he knew what lemons taste like. Still, as the taste hit his tongue he had to wince a bit from the surprise. It was way more sour than he was expecting. Is this the… intended effect?

Regardless of the sourness spreading through his system, he at least liked it better than the kinds of sweets Alan tried to give him. The longer it was in his mouth, the better it got.

”Absolutely. We’ll do an investigation. We’ll have to think like Poppy.” Flash started walking forward, gesturing his hand so she would be compelled to follow. ”What can you remember that she’s said? She is quite sentimental, but… do portraits… fancy each other?”

Flash honestly didn’t know. He wondered if anyone really understood how the portraits worked. It must be a hellish existence. So often magic still made no sense to him. He didn’t know if he could ever really grasp the concept. That aside, he started to remember a few things himself.

”She told me she liked horses once. I don’t know if she liked them enough to seek one out, but there’s certainly plenty to choose from.”

If he were being honest, those were his least favorite paintings of all, and always so many. He knew where most of them were by nature of him intentionally looking away.

”What else has she said?” Flash looked around the hall as they walked and spoke. Might as well start looking right away.

@Alina Rosier

"Well, we know she likes flowers and I can't see her mixing it up with those brutish types. You know, big, burly, bear-like..." she paused. "Too many B words in the same sentence, huh?" she nodded.

"Horses, flowers..." Alina thought for a moment. "Yeah, I'm clueless." She laughed. As they walked she glanced over to him and kept her gaze upon him for many moments. "So...might I ask why you're so interested? In the painting, I mean. Poppy." She knew why she liked it. She had an appreciation for art and it was calming in contrast to some of the other paintings around. Plus, she had very little friends so sometimes one noticed their surroundings more when they had less distractions. None of these things she would tell him about, of course. She didn't want to seem so pathetic.

"I mean, I think Poppy could use a friend, so it's a good thing that you are," she didn't mean for it to come off as an insult and hoped she hadn't. "Must get pretty lonely..." These days she knew all about being lonely. She had been looking so forward to coming to Hogwarts but now that she was here, it was nothing of what she expected.

Alina tagged along happily, seeming to have no real idea where Poppy might go. Flash didn’t mind, it was more of a challenge if he didn’t just get the answer right away. Still, if he didn’t ask the obvious question he would have felt like a fool later. First, he would look for all the paintings in the vicinity with horses or flowers. Which was… a lot of them. Flowers were popular in all kinds of styles and subjects. In her portrait, Poppy was holding a basket of freshly picked wildflowers on her arm. Perhaps she went out to try to pick some from another painting.

Then, after laughing a bit at her own expense, she paused for a second to follow with a question. She asked him his opinion, basically. Flash looked over his shoulder at her briefly before going back to his nonchalant search. Perhaps it was his own fault that it was so, but he very rarely got asked his opinion on things. Let alone about something he actually cared about, rather than having to extol the virtues of something to sell someone on an idea. For that matter, he never gave his opinion unless specifically asked.

That was what was so nice about Hufflepuffs. They just actually cared about other people's thoughts and feelings. Of course, if she was a Slytherin it could be interpreted very differently. This would be a strategic move, something to put him into a false sense of security so he would be easier to exploit. But he couldn’t sense that at all. Flash was glad to be asked anyway, because he had plenty to say.

Before he could speak, she tried to explain herself, saying Poppy needed a friend, looking sad when she said it.

”Ah, well, I have no idea if paintings get lonely.” Flash was at a complete loss with them. They were inscrutable. ”But I like talking to Poppy. She is very patient, and it always seems like she’s listening because she’s interested. Ahh, it’s hard to know what she really thinks…”

Generally, Flash didn’t like things he didn’t understand. A lot of magic in general made him uncomfortable. He didn’t like how easy it was. It only made him wonder how it could be used against him. How much it could hurt people.

”I don’t know if I could call her a friend. For all I know she only says nice things because she has no will of her own. Because she was made to be an image of some healer. When I think about it, it’s a bit sad.”

Moving the lemon drop from one cheek to another, Flash realized he had stopped looking for paintings and was simply staring off into space. This was why he didn’t share his opinions. Once unleashed, he would always start to spout dreary nonsense. It was completely improper for the nice, light conversation they should have been having.

He should have been more alert, controlled the conversation’s tone from the start so that she would have the most ideal interaction as possible. That was how his magic worked, by quickly figuring out what someone wanted and giving it to them without ever having to be asked. In time, it would make him invaluable.

Yet more and more, it seemed the price he had to pay to gain that kind of influence was wearing him thin. It kept him up at night, got him staring off into space, talking about how sad he was.

”Or did you mean aesthetically? In that sense, I think it has a very unique softness to it. I haven’t really seen it done in other paintings… very evocative, it looks as though I could touch it and it would be plush.” Flash continued his search once more, his voice unaffected and calm. It really was quite a beautiful painting.

@Alina Rosier

"It's probably a good thing that the castle doesn't have any abstract paintings of people. Would they be...you know, trying to move around and talk like Poppy or..." she paused and just shuttered at the thought. "Sorry, just...a random thought that I don't want to think about."

She followed him through to the next corridor where they both paused to look at one particular panting because it had a horse in a field of flowers. Maybe she was hiding near the trees or behind the horse and they just needed to stand there a moment for her to reveal herself. "So what do find around to busy yourself here?" She didn't see him around all that much but then again, she wasn't around much. He could have been the most popular guy in the whole entire year and still be a stranger to her.

The horse finally poked up its head from the grass and took a few steps around. No such luck in finding Poppy, so she sighed and the two began to keep moving on down the corridor in search of her. There were a lot of horse paintings down this particular one, almost all also with flowers. Maybe their search was hopeless.

Interacting with @Flash Holmwood