Miserable Mornings
| │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ |
xx | Kahira Valerian had had a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad, in fact absolutely catastrophic twenty-four hours, and her mood was as sour as a lemon to fit. Just a day's ticking of the clock before, she'd been on the Hogwarts Express, excited for what would surely be an amazing beginning to her glorious and resplendent educational career. Her curly red head had been full of dreams about acing all of her Potions classes, having her name carved into various trophies, finally showing up her dhampir prick of an elder brother (@Blaize Valerian), and, of course, being Sorted into Slytherin, though that one had seemed like a given at the time. After all, there had barely ever been any Valerians in any other House, and those who had been - well, they could hardly call themselves part of the family anymore after such a disastrous failure at fitting in, now, could they? But all that had come crashing down when that Hat, that bloody daft tosser of a Hat, had decided to ruin her future with a single word and announce to a whole Hall full of people that she - a Valerian!!! - belonged nowhere other than... gag... Hufflepuff. The night after was a bit of a blur - snapping at various people, attempting to convince the elder students that she didn't belong there, forcing her way into a single room in the Hufflepuff dormitories so she wouldn't have to sleep next to those obviously lesser than her (they'd been Sorted as a badger, after all!) - and then this morning of classes had been somewhat dazed through. Kahira had categorically refused to put on any semblance of anything yellow - a Hufflepuff tie, sweater vest, and robes, all discarded into the deepest depths of her trunk, as though hiding them would take away the shame - and instead had spent the morning in a plain uniform adorned with as much green-and-silver jewelry as she could find in her luggage, as if she could convince the teachers that she was actually a Slytherin in disguise. As soon as the lunch-hour hit, Kahira went not to the Great Hall for a meal - she positively refused to force herself to sit amongst the yellow and black a single time more - but, instead, she managed to find her way to the Headmaster's Office via directions from a few friendly upperclassmen and one not-so-friendly talking portrait. The simple fix here is to speak to the Headmaster, and he will certainly see my situation, she had ruminated on the walk here. The Hat is old, and magic wears off after a time. It is bound to make mistakes. Surely, the Headmaster is a reasonable man, and he will grant me an easy change. I shan't even have to write home about it. Unfortunately for the eleven-year-old pureblood, none of the friendly upperclassmen (and certainly not the portrait who had just blown a raspberry at her from behind the relative safety of its frame) had mentioned that there was a password to get into the Headmaster's office, or, specifically, what it might be. Kahira tried everything - "Pumpkin pasty! Lemon drop! His Greatness Solomon Lear! Aluhumura! Or whatever that stupid incantation might be. Password! Password! Let me in! Ugh, you blubbering nitwit!" In the end, she resorted to simply pounding closed fists on the gargoyle that would not reveal its hidden staircase. "I need to speak to the Headmaster," she wailed up at it, her voice growing louder and more miserable in pitch and tone with each passing second. "I've been put into the wrong House! This is all just some terrible mistake! Why won't you bloody thing just let me in?" |
xx | │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ |
|
xx |  | xx |
|
| kahira valerian second gen | _____________________ | shop | ___________________ |
Miserable Mornings
Date: 2 September 2026 (Lunch Time)
Mentions: @Kahira Valerian
W|C: 825
OOC: Hi! I am so in love with your writing style. It just has so much tone and emotion in it! I could practically feel Kahira's emotion while reading it!
The moment her last class for the day had ended, Elisha had went straight to the owlery to send her family the letter she had written during one of her class. She had asked for directions from her seniors before she had left the common room only to remember vague bits and pieces of it. She didn't expect to be so immersed in the lessons that she almost completely forgot about the path her seniors had instructed her.
So she had to ask another student from other houses to guide her towards the owlery. She was tempted to ask the portraits hanging on the wall or the ghost she had seen reenacting he's own death in front of a group of Gryffindor but she feared that she might get distracted and waste her time asking them questions she had always been so curious about the moment she opened her mouth.
Thankfully though, a kind Hufflepuff had volunteered to show her the way. The journey was short and quiet, aside from some small talks. After arriving, Elisha bid him farewell and had set on doing what she needed to do. Unfortunately, the moment she had taken a step on the moving stairs on her way back was the start of her journey of being lost yet again. It seemed even more absurd that the students she had talked to seemed to have the unanimous decision to play a prank on her by giving her wrong directions! Honestly! Maybe she had used all her luck for the day.
Now she was just trying to find her own way in her own pace while admiring whatever the place she had landed into. "Maybe I should've bought a more comfortable shoes" Elisha said as she leaned down the wall to rubbed her aching foot. "Or maybe a spell to make any footwear comfortable no matter the environment." She took a tired sigh and stared at the portrait in front of her.
The portrait depicted a child climbing a tree to reach for the broom stuck in it's branches. 'He must've fallen off his broom while flying.' She thought as she took a step closer, the boy had almost grazed the tip of the broom with his fingers only to startle and fall down from the tree when a shrieking voice seemed to echo within the halls followed by loud insistent banging. Elisha and the boy from the painting looked at each other before staring at direction where the sound had come from.
"So..." Elisha started eyes still looking towards the direction as if the source of the still, loud noise would suddenly appear right in front of her. "Should I go and check that out? Or should I just stay here?"
The boy in the painting dusted his cloak off of the dust and fixed his disheveled hair, shrugging at Elisha to do whatever she wanted to do. Giving the direction an annoyed glare before starting his climb on the tree yet again. Elisha took a few more second staring at him before slowly walking towards the noise. Turning a corner, she could see a red-headed girl pounding on a statue, demanding to see the Headmaster.
"So I was near the Headmaster's office" Elisha muttered to herself.
The girl seems to grow more hysterical the longer Elisha looks at her. She couldn't see any house insignia she could use to verify which house she belongs to from her position but seeing how much green and silver adorned her body seems enough to guess her house to be in Slytherin. But that wasn't right though. Elisha doesn't remember her face among the first year in her house, and she surely haven't been paying much attention to the other first years during the Sorting ceremony to place a name on her face. Seeing how determined she was to see the Headmaster about her house placement Elisha concluded that she must've expected to be sorted into Slytherin but instead is place into another house.
Finding her curiosity satisfied, Elisha takes a step back only to remember her own circumstances. She wonders if the girl knows the way back to the Great Hall.
Setting her resolve, she took a step towards the girl making as much noise on her movement to caught her attention over her loud voice. The girl turns towards her eyeing her critically. Elisha gave her a soft smile as she stretched her hand towards her for a handshake.
"Hello, my name is Pennyworth. Elisha Pennyworth." She glance at the girl's reddening hand. "I just couldn't help myself looking over. Is there anything I could help you? You seemed...troubled at the moment."