The First Rule of Summer Camp open

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After days of waiting restlessly Emmeline Harris had arrived at Hogwarts for summer camp. She was well aware of the pain that would pierce her once she left, the wish of going to Hogwarts that would never be fulfilled. But she tried to put that thought aside and focus on the joy of the moment. The magnificent castle stood in front of the Starchild as she tried to take it all in. You could see the thick stone walls, the numerous towers and turrets, the bridges, courtyards, and the viaduct. The effect was enthralling. You could feel the magic bouncing off the walls, it was a feeling not to be described in words, but experienced. A small part of her subconcious realized she would never be able to step in there and live her life truly, but her concious mind was too absorbed in the present, a rare phenomenon as she usually thought about the past. A sharp sound of something hitting the gravel below her feet jolted emmeline out of her thoughts. A boy–irish it seemed–had fallen. It took emmeline a moment to realize it was the older one who had pushed him down. A brother probably, she thought as her mind wandered to all the times she and Julia had fought. It seemed almost anything these days was a trigger for her memories with Julia. The Starchild turned her head, pretending to continue looking and analyzing Hogwarts while her ears kept listening, curious for the whole story. And older woman–a mother or governess?–told them off. While she was unable to catch all the words spoken, Emmeline heard the word 'Lochridge'. Unable to think it as a first name, she assumed it would be the boy's last name. She turned and started moving. Best to reach the campgrounds and find her cabinmates. She was to be with Julia and some of her friends in a tent and her feelings were rather conflicted. But that was beside the point. She looked toward the boy–Mr. Lochridge–who seemed to be alone. Emmeline stopped moving. Socialization wasn't her strong suit but it seemed like a good time to make her first friend. Sighing, she changed tracks, making her way over to him. God knew her interaction skills were awkward, she was much to observant and analytical. Despite that her feet kept moving until she was fairly in earshot. “Hello Mr. Lochridge,” she winced. She sounded like a stalker, knowing his last name. No doubt the question was coming. “I'm Emmeline. Emmeline Harris. Are you a first year?” Emmeline offered a small, rather timid, smile as their footsteps feel into sync and they started walking towards the campgrounds. This would be interesting.

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Even though these awkward or rather confusing interactions were partly nearly entirely her and her poor social skills' fault, Emmeline Harris couldn't deny the fact that she found them quite amusing at times. Sure, she might not be looked at like she was an alien if she didn't accidentally say people's last names, but it didn't really matter in that moment. Not when she was having so much fun. While the boy processed what she said and tried to figure out what to say, the starchild–being the unusual being that she was–took it as a chance to try and understand the boy more. He was the average height for a first year, with wavy brown hair which matched his eyes. Eyes. Emmeline was slightly taken aback by the emotion in them. So rarely she met people who spoke more with their bodies than their voice. She could of course be wrong, and she was tactful enough to know not to ask. He was well dressed, formal, but with what looked like the finest quality. Emmeline had trouble thinking him of a muggle born so decided he was likely a pure-blood or wealthy half-blood/wizard-born. Not that blood status mattered to her, she preferred equality, nearly always growing a quick hatred for those who judged her and other based on looks or status. This boy seemed nice enough, so she really hoped he wasn't one to be stuck up. The boy (Emmeline felt awkward calling him Mr. Lochridge) looked around as if checking to see if there was anyone, which made emmeline wonder if he didn't wan't to be alone with her. Fair enough, she though but that didn't stop her from biting her lip. She was hardly ever self conscious but it seemed this one time when she was so desperate to make a friend, she cared. He finally spoke, “I–Uh... he trailed of, still hesitant “Yea. Yea I am, Emmeline smiled again, a little warmer this time, trying to seem more kind than her usual frank and quiet self. She gave the tiniest of nods as in to encourage him to continue.She doubted he would notice it but was glad when he spoke again. She much more liked to listen than speak. “Or... I will be, anyway.” he returned her smile, a little sheepish, but genuine all the same. It made her feel better somehow. Not so much of an outsider, more in sync. “Are you...a prefect or something?” That caught her of guard. Why? Well, for one she usually could tell when someone was about to speak, this rather just bursted out. Secondly, she wasn't sure in what universe a girl with such frankness and near to zero poise would be prefect. And thirdly, the way he asked that question was as though he'd been pondering over it a while. It was so... sincere. And that did it. The laughter she'd been holding in came out, quiet, contagious, and melodic, just like her voice. A small part of Emmeline hoped the boy wouldn't take it the wrong way. She wasn't laughing at him but rather at the conversation. So awkward and unethical yet not the least bit deceitful. “I'm sorry,” she said, gasping for breath. “No, I'm not a prefect, and I don't expect to become one in a million years. I uh was suppo–” Nope. Not the time to mention her sad story-worthy life. She paused thinking carefully about her next few words “I'm to go to Ilvermorny, and I'm here as a prospective student. Incase you're wondering by my accent—I did live in England and then I... moved,” No doubt he suspected there was more to the story but hopefully she wouldn't be pushed to talk about it. She wasn't sure how she would feel when she met Julia now, let alone talk about right before seeing the most important person in her life after nearly a year. Eager to turn back to a safe topic, she tilted her head slightly, looking at his face in a way that might make some uncomfortable—not that emmeline was aware enough to realize that. “Your name is...?” she asked when he said nothing. He seemed more confident, perhaps having accepted that Emmeline was just another unusual kid. “I'm Owen” She nodded slowly while the gears in her head turned at full speed. Owen Lochridge. It really had a nice ring to it. She was startled when the boy—nope. Owen—thrust his hand out then put it back into his pocket. Once again Emmeline smiled, but this time out of amusement. “But... uh... You already knew that, didn't you...’ Owen continued. “You mean calling you Mr. Lochridge?” “I guess you must know my family, then?’ “Not at all,” Emmeline spoke with the calm tone that most people found irritating, not giving away any information. She was curious to know which way this was heading. “Did my brother point me out? Or are you... like... some sort of stalker?’ That was it. Emmeline now considered this boy her friend. He was way to nice and more importantly, funny, to not be her friend. She laughed her famous laugh again. She was clearly smiling too much. “So its kinda confusing if you want to... I dunno take a seat?” She spoke her sentence as a question as she so often did. She gestured towards the ground, not sure how Owen would take it—A joke, or a serious question. “First things first, you need to know that I'm a rather observant person. Notices the smallest thing, listens more than she talks kind of person,” Would Owen recognize that small tinge of regret or shame? “I saw your brother push you to the ground and whil ei was looking at the castles my ears were still listening. You'll probably accuse me of eavesdropping, and you're not wrong, but you should probably know I can't really control me. This is usually the part you tell me I'm weird so...” she waited a few seconds before continuing. “Then I heard your mother or governess telling you off and I caught her saying Lochridge. That—unless i'm missing something—isn't in any English dictionaries, so I assumed it was your last name since I don't imagine it as a first name.” Finally got that out. Emmeline took a deep breath. She usually didn't speak so much. Her head turned to Hogwarts, once again admiring it. She took it as a distraction to avoid watching Owen while he processed her 'speech', and to avoid having to know if he was looking at her like she was an alien. A whole minute later she turned back to Owen, smiling timidly yet somehow warmly. This was a test. If she passed it she'd have a friend. If she failed—like she had so many times before—well... that would be no new process. x