Made for Loving You [PV] - Courtyard

7 Jul 2026, 21:32

Tonight I wanna see it in your eyes, feel the magic
| @Dealla Prince | March '26 | Mentions: @Camille De Varenne and @Harlan Montgomery |
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Fortune was a friend to Madhup, and as far as he was concerned, it was a friend that owed him money. For all he had endured- a childhood of loss and desperation, a Durmstrang tenure of strenuous militaristic training, a hundred Quidditch-related concussions healed over- he was due a break. Dealla Prince was that light in the dark. Since the moment they locked stares at the Mistletoe Spin, his heart had developed tunnel-vision for her alone. The blue-eyed witch had entranced him. The summer where they met marked the year Mad started to feel he was becoming the man he wanted to be. She changed the sybarite for the better, inspiring him to abandon his playboy days, which were only destructive to his flings and to himself. He went on to prove himself despite what his school thought of muggles, and worked through some deeply repressed resentment through training. He was doing better- he was better. But Fortune had been on his side for so long that Madhup forgot how it felt to be tested. Providence had a strange and unusual challenge in mind, one that would put to question how far behind his anger issues really lied.

Another Hogwarts ball was on the horizon. Had he attended the Scottish school, Madhup might have grown tired of its incessant soirees, but for him they offered an excuse to see Dee. He hardly minded the travel, though he stretched and groaned melodramatically as he and his Durm crew unloaded from the ship. A crowd of faces awaited them. He scanned it expectantly, waiting for his favorite girl to leap into his arms, surprised that she wasn't already among them. Those around dispersed as friends and lovers reunited, moving into the castle together. Taken-aback by this break in their routine, he looked to the skies as seconds turned to minutes. Mad couldn't have guessed just how off this particular visit was going to be. Dee appeared not in person, but in the form of a newspaper being thrust towards him. He flashed an award-winning smile when asked for his autograph, immediately taking in the picture of his own face, then Dee's, and then... some unfamiliar third-wheel lucky enough to be put in the same article as them? His gunmetal green eyes backtracked to the title: Spilling Hogwarts's Secrets. A schoolmate ribbed him, asking what it was about, and Mad plucked the paper from the stranger's hands to investigate. His grasp of written English had grown tremendously thanks to the love letters he pelted his girlfriend with. Still, some slang terms needed translation, and when he received one, his face fell. The jovial atmosphere of Mad's little crew took a turn for something awkward. He shook his head in disbelief, then turned his back on the kid who'd brought the paper along, murmuring tensely to his crew: "It is bullshit. My Dee does not do 'slobber-filled snogging'. She is an artist with her mouth."

To emphasize how little he cared, Madhup half-handed the paper back, dropping it partway to flutter for the ground sans his signature. A bitter laugh left him, coupled with a comment about how rags like this loved to print "celebrity gossip". Yet as he parted from the pack to track Dee down himself, storming through the entryway and passing the Headliner on his aimless trek, he snatched a copy from a rack. That smug blocky face with its provocatively plunging neckline made his heart surge with violent intent. Madhup had already survived the return and subsequent disappearance into the backdrop of Jack Warren. Who was this asshole, and what claim did he have in the race? He didn't want to entertain the mere possibility that what he'd read was true. Something had happened on the twenty-sixth of February, but he wanted to believe it was a misunderstanding, or some weird magic afoot such as when Dee kissed him while Polyjuiced as Pericles. But that was weeks ago. If it was a silly story like that, why hadn't she told him? What was going on? "Lady Audentia's" words "hardly loyal" rolled around his skull like jagged rocks. The longer he looked for Dee, the greater this feeling grew, building up in his chest until it was fit to burst into an extreme outlash. What if he found the face that matched this paper first? What would her friends think if he came in swinging? Pear would make an exhausted comment about him over relying on his ape brain and fists, but @Aly Salinger might join in. They had their Prince's reputation to uphold. She worked for the paper. Maybe she could help him track down this audacious Audentia next....

Fortuitously for every one of them, it wasn't Harlan he found first, but Dee herself. Those brown waves and blue eyes he'd been searching for were crossing the same courtyard as himself, opposite a great fountain. Madhup had moved at a prowling gait. His broad shoulders were hunched, and face was set in a vicious expression reserved for those he was about to blatch off their broom. At the sight of her, framed by the fountain's archways like the piece of art she was, he halted on the spot. His eyes went wide- hope and adoration sparked in them, in spite of himself- though the scowl kept its hold on his mouth. Every emotion he'd been evading in the halls caught up to him, reduced to a single word, terse yet pleading, braced for impact: "Baby...?" His copy of the Headliner was crumpled in his fist.
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(PC: Pericles Dralt)

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	Fortune was a friend to Madhup, and as far as he was concerned, it was a friend that owed him money. For all he had endured- a childhood of loss and desperation, a Durmstrang tenure of strenuous militaristic training, a hundred Quidditch-related concussions healed over- he was due a break. Dealla Prince was that light in the dark. Since the moment they locked stares at the Mistletoe Spin, his heart had developed tunnel-vision for her alone. The blue-eyed witch had entranced him. The summer where they met marked the year Mad started to feel he was becoming the man he wanted to be. She changed the sybarite for the better, inspiring him to abandon his playboy days, which were only destructive to his flings and to himself. He went on to prove himself despite what his school thought of muggles, and worked through some deeply repressed resentment through training. He was doing better- he was better. But Fortune had been on his side for so long that Madhup forgot how it felt to be tested. Providence had a strange and unusual challenge in mind, one that would put to question how far behind his anger issues really lied. Another Hogwarts ball was on the horizon. Had he attended the Scottish school, Madhup might have grown tired of its incessant soirees, but for him they offered an excuse to see Dee. He hardly minded the travel, though he stretched and groaned melodramatically as he and his Durm crew unloaded from the ship. A crowd of faces awaited them. He scanned it expectantly, waiting for his favorite girl to leap into his arms, surprised that she wasn't already among them. Those around dispersed as friends and lovers reunited, moving into the castle together. Taken-aback by this break in their routine, he looked to the skies as seconds turned to minutes. Mad couldn't have guessed just how off this particular visit was going to be. Dee appeared not in person, but in the form of a newspaper being thrust towards him. He flashed an award-winning smile when asked for his autograph, immediately taking in the picture of his own face, then Dee's, and then... some unfamiliar third-wheel lucky enough to be put in the same article as them? His gunmetal green eyes backtracked to the title: Spilling Hogwarts's Secrets. A schoolmate ribbed him, asking what it was about, and Mad plucked the paper from the stranger's hands to investigate. His grasp of written English had grown tremendously thanks to the love letters he pelted his girlfriend with. Still, some slang terms needed translation, and when he received one, his face fell. The jovial atmosphere of Mad's little crew took a turn for something awkward. He shook his head in disbelief, then turned his back on the kid who'd brought the paper along, murmuring tensely to his crew: "It is bullshit. My Dee does not do 'slobber-filled snogging'. She is an artist with her mouth." To emphasize how little he cared, Madhup half-handed the paper back, dropping it partway to flutter for the ground sans his signature. A bitter laugh left him, coupled with a comment about how rags like this loved to print "celebrity gossip". Yet as he parted from the pack to track Dee down himself, storming through the entryway and passing the Headliner on his aimless trek, he snatched a copy from a rack. That smug blocky face with its provocatively plunging neckline made his heart surge with violent intent. Madhup had already survived the return and subsequent disappearance into the backdrop of Jack Warren. Who was this asshole, and what claim did he have in the race? He didn't want to entertain the mere possibility that what he'd read was true. Something had happened on the twenty-sixth of February, but he wanted to believe it was a misunderstanding, or some weird magic afoot such as when Dee kissed him while Polyjuiced as Pericles. But that was weeks ago. If it was a silly story like that, why hadn't she told him? What was going on? "Lady Audentia's" words "hardly loyal" rolled around his skull like jagged rocks. The longer he looked for Dee, the greater this feeling grew, building up in his chest until it was fit to burst into an extreme outlash. What if he found the face that matched this paper first? What would her friends think if he came in swinging? Pear would make an exhausted comment about him over relying on his ape brain and fists, but @Aly Salinger might join in. They had their Prince's reputation to uphold. She worked for the paper. Maybe she could help him track down this audacious Audentia next.... Fortuitously for every one of them, it wasn't Harlan he found first, but Dee herself. Those brown waves and blue eyes he'd been searching for were crossing the same courtyard as himself, opposite a great fountain. Madhup had moved at a prowling gait. His broad shoulders were hunched, and face was set in a vicious expression reserved for those he was about to blatch off their broom. At the sight of her, framed by the fountain's archways like the piece of art she was, he halted on the spot. His eyes went wide- hope and adoration sparked in them, in spite of himself- though the scowl kept its hold on his mouth. Every emotion he'd been evading in the halls caught up to him, reduced to a single word, terse yet pleading, braced for impact: "Baby...?" His copy of the Headliner was crumpled in his fist.
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Made for Loving You PV