Rafael, Lydia, Jackson "Jeremy", Katherine, Martyna "Tina" Valentines closed

♥♡ღ V A L E N T I N E S ღ♡♥

Open to interactions!
Mentioning no one
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Valentines Day.

Being an eleven year old, Tina had yet to encounter any real romance, but Hogwarts was quite good at making her feel older than she actually was. With all those very grown-up dances and the constant towering threat of imminent death, Martyna reckoned she'd done a lot of maturing this past half a year, and even if no one else seemed to think so, conquering love was just the next step for a determined young girl like her. She remembered with a pang of regretful cringe the crushes she'd had on boys back in her old primary school, wincing at the thought of her younger self giggling and holding hands under the canteen tables as she and some random boy that probably picked his nose planned their future wedding.

She grimaced. How... grossly juvenile! Back then, she had no understanding of serious relationships - unlike now. She was whole months older and wiser, and she even knew how to do her concealer (and mascara if she was really careful). Speaking of, she'd done an excellent job applying her make up today, and looked very glam in her sparkly sequin dress (even if she had to wear a chunky coat and hat on top of it to stave off the cold). She shimmered like an overly fluorescent, pink star under the lights of the astronomy tower, and certainly fit the overall aesthetic of the place! The badger gleamed with excitement at the floating paper hearts that lead up to the archway, but resisted the urge to scoop them discreetly into her hands and steal them away (she knew better than to touch enchanted objects without asking what potential side effects they bought about, nowadays).

There were a lot of people here tonight, Tina noticed as she made her way inside the classroom. She couldn't help but gaze around, wondering who she might have been partnered with, and hoping that the disproportionate number of girls wouldn't hurt her chances of getting someone at the very least nice looking. She wasn't exactly sure what that meant when it came to boys her age, since most of them had yet to hit puberty and looked sort of weird, and she also wasn't sure how much appearances actually mattered, since everyone said they didn't but no one was ugly in those rom-coms Lucie liked.

She approached one of the tables, opting for the bag chocolatey treats and a single cupcake, which promptly glowed with her (and, presumably, her mystery partner's) number. She didn't notice this until she'd unwrapped the cake and began munching away, ready to discard to wrapper as she leered around the room, feeling slightly nervous. "Oh!" She squinting at the label on the wrapped. You might have thought these sorts of magically changing objects were a normalcy by now, but it took a surprisingly long time to get used to. The balloon which corresponded with her given number was sat on a currently empty blanket. Was it cooler to be fashionably late, she wondered as she skipped over, fluffing up one of the two empty cushions and taking a seat. Once again, she was amazed by how remarkably grown up this whole thing was! She couldn't imagine that non-wizarding school was this kind and generous to its students.

"Hey... I'm Martyna but like, you can call me Tina.." the Hufflepuff muttered under her breath in what she hoped was a smooth voice (it wasn't). Practice made perfect, and introductions were a skill. It was a growing insecurity that she said 'like' so much. A lot of boys thought that saying 'like' made you stupid, which she wasn't. She also tended to talk too fast, which wasn't what pretty women in the films did. She plucked another chocolate from the bag, leaning over the hamper and peering inside at the array of delicious tidbits. "What's your name? ...Hey, I'm Tina. Well, Martyna, but Tina is a whole syllable less long, so... Hey! I'm Martyna... Blah blah..."

She stopped. If she kept going, she'd probably lose the ability to speak altogether, which would be even worse than an awkward introduction.

Reducio

outfit of the night!

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𝒱𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒'𝓈 𝒟𝒶𝓎 𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉

Interacting With: @Martyna Romero
Mentioning: @Willow Anderson as Rett Brooks
For Convenience: @Jackson Valentine @Katherine Labrouder @Lydia Cooper
Hex Color: #800000

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It was a brilliant day.

Well – maybe it was cold. And a little windy. And maybe some of his friends had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Those chilly motherfuckers. But really, what were a few sharp words and ill-mannered finger gestures in the face of the lovely February 14th? Hell, Rafael had never been lovesick, nor had he ever been a sap for romance, but even he was loathe to deny the oddly exciting anticipation that dawned on his countenance every Valentine’s Day, the sensation sending shivers up his spine and happy energy radiating off his form in thick, hot waves. Perhaps, deep down in the child’s psych, he foolishly believed that the day carried more love than most, a special energy deigning to journey into the haggard reality of a pain-stricken world and paint it in a lovely pink filter. And perhaps this belief was somewhat true, in his own small, personal way. After all, for the young Captain the world did feel a bit brighter, the breeze a bit warmer, his heart a bit lighter, with what, he could do nothing to describe – nonetheless, small blessings such as this were fleeting, so he wouldn’t question the feeling, only smile and allow it to consume him wholly. Alas, today was a brilliant day, he had long since concluded – it would be very, very difficult to spoil his mood.

He supposed, in hindsight, he must have looked a bit silly to the outward eye, a foolish smile painting his handsome features and unusual pep in his step as he breezed through the hallways, his loose curtain fringe bouncing lightly with each advance forward. After all, he did go by many names, and even more personas – and whether it was the Blatch King on the Quidditch Field, Sherlock in the midst of a puzzle, or the infamous Calvin Klein Model around his friends, he typically managed to keep himself somewhat serious, sensible, occasionally even antagonistic. [Not to say he didn’t have his moments – such occurrences usually happened in the presences his close friends and dorm mates.] It was rare to see him smile these days, let alone grin unreservedly, and yet the sun itself could do nothing to outshine the bright visage that was the young Captain’s smile. Perhaps, in addition to the holiday, his good spirits had something to do with the event he was soon to partake in. Regardless of the brazen statement included on his sign-up sheet or the time of year, Rafael actually wasn’t attending the Valentine’s Day event in the name of romance. Perhaps to make a friend or two, eat some candy, get some laughs – maintain some semblance of composure, even, but not for love. After all, he liked to think of himself as loyal, particularly to those he shared a relationship with. He wondered idly if attending such an event would paint him in a negative light to those few people who were aware of his relationship… however, no such thought could dampen his excitement, not when the sound of chatter and smell of flowers lingered just around the corner.

The young man felt no reservations weighing upon his shoulders as he happily approached the grand room that was the Astronomy Tower, his deep brown eyes searching his surroundings for some semblance of purchase, a familiar face, telling sign, out-of-the-ordinary visage. However, when they were met with no such familiarity, his gaze would instead snag against a plethora of radiant pink roses. The sight, though meant to bring cheer and excitement, left a sour taste in the Captain’s mouth, ill memories resurfacing in a sickening rush of adrenaline as he recalled the events of the Blossom Ball. Oh, never mind the past, not even the haunted memories of the spring ball could ruin his cheery mood. He was careful to pluck the flower from its holding, quick to notice the absence of thorns as his fingers idly fumbled against a sticker label. Sixteen? he furrowed his brow. Sixteen whats? Whos? His eyes would search about again, shortly latching onto a shiny pink heart balloon with a number that matched the one in his fingertips. Ah, how quaint. A lovely system if you asked him. He adjusted his sweater – pink, the color of love – tucking one side his newly-dyed purple fringe behind an ear at once and glancing in the direction of his table. His other hand, clutching an apple that brandished a bite mark, would swing at his other side, his brunch forgotten as he marveled at the food adorning the many picnic blankets about him. He would shortly make his way over to his designated blanket – and not a mere moment within its radius, his eyes brushed against the visage of an unfamiliar girl. She was mumbling, that was cute. She was kinda cute, actually.

[Naturally, it was always the cute ones that suffered in his presence, one way or another.]

“Hey, Tina,” he said smilingly into her ear, leaning forwards and looking over her shoulder in innocent curiosity. Would he startle her? Would she be shocked at his awareness in her self-conversation? Would she remain composed, perhaps even turn sour at his sudden intrusion? Only time would tell, of course. Regardless of her reaction, however, he would continue to maintain his cheery face, brown eyes bright with elation and a radiant grin alight on his face. Unfazed, aloof, almost ignorant to his ill manners. “I’m Rafa,” he would parrot further in a cheery air, mimicking her further with a cocking of the head and falsely thoughtful look. “Well, I’m Rafael, but Rafa is a whole syllable less long, so.” His accent oddly warbled his speech, being an awkward mix between Argentine and American, somehow adding to the impressive charm he exuded in the general direction of his new acquaintance. Was he flirting? There wouldn’t be a clear answer to such an inquiry – the child was, after all, a natural flirt, and partook in the activity occasionally unaware of his actions. With facial features such as his own, he supposed just about anything he did could be considered flirtatious. “Are you Group 16?” he asked amicably, glancing about the table with a new wave of energy. Then, leaning back into a normal posture and playing with his sleeves behind his back, his eyes shortly glanced around for a chair – ah, is would seem as if he were to sit on the ground. He would quickly seat himself, wasting no time in setting his half-eaten apple on the table and scooting himself up carefully. “Wah, look at all the food!” he marveled grandly out loud, happily taking a biscuit in his hand. Then, shyly glancing back upwards, “I hope you’ll excuse me – I haven’t eaten today.” His stomach growled to accentuate this minor detail. Quidditch Practice had kept him since six in the morning, unfortunately. He’d only just washed up – perhaps that was the reason he reeked of men’s shampoo. Yet, despite the strenuous exercise he had previously partaken in, the energy within him radiated outwards in thick, hot waves, infecting everything about him with a contagious sort of cheer.

Setting a few biscuits and a small portion of treats before him, he would send a glance towards his new acquaintance for the third time in the past couple of minutes, that bright, shimmering smile back to entertain her lovely visage. She was actually kind of pretty, he idly noticed – her brown eyes seemed to glisten naturally, her hair soft and bouncy. Her features were fairy-like and very attractive. Had he been his first-year self, he probably would have found himself hitting on her like crazy. Unfortunately – ah, yes, very unfortunately – he had matured. He was a man now, not to mention he had himself a man. Flirting with a girl while dating was basically cheating, right? Was he a cheater? No – well, maybe – no, he couldn’t. He would keep himself in check for as long as he was mentally able. To the outward eye, it would seem as if the young man had taken a moment to comically and almost aloofly stare at the girl in curious scrutinization, before shortly nodding in approval. “I like your outfit,” he would conclude with a nod of approval. “We’re… ehm,” his brows would furrow in confusion for a moment, and he would set his chin on his head, pondering deeply. The term was alluding him, as words tended to when he hadn’t slept well. English wasn’t his first language. “How do you say gemelos… ah! Twins!” He smiled, before glancing at his spread again. “We’re twins,” he would nod again, oddly proud of himself for remembering the correct word, before glancing back down at his food and taking a bite of a biscuit. He would continue to idly munch his late very late breakfast until someone chose to startle him from his energetic and lovesick daze.

Action • Talking To Martyna

AUN • Get your own Second Edition Rafael – now in pink and purple. Press the button, he flirts back

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Interacting with @Rafael D'Spacito | Open to other interactions within group
Tagging @Lydia Cooper, @Jackson Valentine & @Katherine Labrouder
HTML colour is 73781E

It was just as Tina was leaning over the hamper basket, fiddling around with the various options for milk and hot chocolate powder, when she heard his voice in her ear. "Hey, Tina." She startled, just as any normal person would, making a garbled yelping noise and nearly dropping the carton of powder all over her dress as she ducked her head down and out of the way, whipping around to face her assailant.

...Oh no.

Tina felt her stomach drop. Okay, so she might have been put with the most attractive boy in the entire school, or something like that. The all too familiar feeling of inadequacy washed over her as she stared up at him, though this was quickly replaced by child-like, butterfly-inducing excitement. 'Rafa', as he introduced himself, appeared to be at least a couple years older than her, and had hair that was dyed purple (or maybe it was his natural colour - from what she'd learned, the strange became the norm at Hogwarts). His confidence was made clear from the get go, at least by contrast to her lack thereof, and she wasn't sure if it made things easier or more difficult, especially when he mimicked her, making it clear he'd overheard her humiliating mumblings of preperation.

He didn't move away from her personal space for a while, a decision which left her leaning clumsily forwards with her head bent around her shoulder, as though the self-inflicted proximity to her would be somehow off-putting for him. She was cautious to skirt around him, just in case he didn't want her to accidentally brush against him, her face pulled into an inelegant, toothy smile as she tried to formulate answers to his questions, brain working overtime. "Yes, group sixteen, that's me!" -is where she should have stopped. He slowly moved away, and it was revealed that not only was he very good-looking, but also tall. "Funny its a group with just two people. But I guess that's still a group. Like, more than one." Another opportunity to stop. "I can count, obviously."

Thankfully, Rafael didn't seem to mind her rambling too much, eager to dig into the array of treats before them. It struck her then that his voice was different to what she was used to hearing in the halls of Hogwarts on a day to day basis, and more significantly, not so dissimilar from her parents own accents. She eyed him curiously, not sure whether it would be rude to ask, before remembering the hot chocolate she was about to make herself, hastily pouring the already warmed milk (magic: cool) into a mug and stirring in an overflowing teaspoon of chocolate powder.

"I like your outfit."

Martyna snapped her head up, looking at him with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights. She acted as though she was afraid of him, which in a way, she was. Boys were terrifying, especially the older ones. This didn't stop his approval from tinting her cheeks a warmer colour, though with all her layers on, she couldn't help but wonder if he was being sarcastic. She lifted the hot chocolate to her mouth like it would prevent her from saying something ridiculous, but also aimed to hide her atypical shyness from him. The whole situation was - in a way - bound to be embarrassing, especially if you were a girl as graceless as Tina.

"We’re… ehm... How do you say gemelos… ah! Twins!"

It was quickly becoming apparent that she was going to have to speak, unless she wanted this to be the most painstakingly uncomfortable evening ever. She indicated to his jumper which, admittedly, was rather lovely. "Yes! Pink! It looks good on everyone," Martyna said, nodding wisely. The colour pink definitely made people more fun. In fact, if pink was a feeling, she'd probably dub it joy. "And it goes with your hair," she added, pulling down on one of her curls. "Mama says mine's too dark to dye any other colour, but she doesn't even know how to do magic. I'll deffo dye mine like bright pink when I learn the spell to do it."

Martyna hesitated for a moment, considering all the occasions on which she'd caused classroom disasters with her spellcasting. It was honestly a wonder she'd made it onto the duelling team, with her cumbersome wand-work and shaking incantations. With her luck, she'd probably set her hair alight or something, and it would take forever to grow back to a nice length - unless there was magic for that too, in which case she'd probably only suffer the minor set-back of a burnt scalp.

"If I can, that is." Now was not the time to dwell on her lacklustre magical abilities. She was here to be a mature, likable eleven year old, and talk to boys like she knew what she was doing. Since she was younger, she was going to have to work extra hard for his attention, and ask good, though-provoking questions. "What's a geme-los anyway?" No, that was an absolutely terrible way of asking. It obviously meant twins, even she knew that now. She'd also definitely messed messed up her pronunciation, internally wincing as she said it. "I mean, like, what language is that?"

Well, even if she was doing a terrible job so far, Martyna could at least look on the bright side. Rafael was literally the best looking guy she'd ever seen (ever!) and she'd been partnered with him. Things could only go uphill from here, right?

Reducio

outfit of the night!

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Valentines' Dinner

Interacting with @Martyna Romero, @Rafael D'Spacito - Open to interactions with the others from the group.

Walking up the stairs that led to the Astronomy tower, Lydia could feel a sense of excitement and also some anxiety mixing up in her stomach; the whole idea of a blind date was exciting, new, but of course it also came with its worries. What if she was not paired up with anyone? What if she would have just sat there, all alone?

Shaking her head, Lydia looked up at the arch made out of paper flowers and smiled as she rubbed her gloved hands together to keep them warm; that night she had dressed up quite casually, with pink as the dominant colour. Her coat, shoes, gloves, bag and jeans were pink, while her cardigan was aquamarine, with a button-up pink shirt underneath; she had dressed up quite comfy and warm, since the temperature was still quite low in February, and the Astronomy class wasn't the warmest place in the castle. She had even tried putting on a tiny bit of make-up, with some eyeliner and mascara, just to see how it would look on her -after all she was 13 now, and makeup had started been quite interesting to her.

After she had walked inside the classroom, Lydia looked around with wide eyes, taking in the scenery: the decoration were incredible, and the whole atmosphere felt incredibly nice and cosy. She noticed the sign and walked closer, inspecting the contents of the table: the roses and the bag of sweets both looked very nice, but in the end the Hufflepuff girl decided to take the rose- after all this was supposed to be a dinner, and she knew that if he would have taken the sweets she would have ended up eating them before the actual dinner.

As she observed the rose, she noticed the label attached to the stem had a number written on it, and as soon as she read it, her eyes started scanning the room; the balloons next to the small picnic tables had a number on them, so she figured she needed to go to the one that had the same number that was on her rose. Walking around the room, Lydia started biting nervously on her bottom lip, until she found her balloon. Almost quickening up her pace, she got closer to the table, but slowed down when she saw that two people were already sitting there.

She checked the number on her rose and the one on the balloon, and there was no mistake that she was at the right table; how was that possible? Scratching her head confused, Lydia reached the table as she put on a small smile; she wouldn't have let anything ruin the night, no matter what would have happened. Sure, maybe she wasn't there to look for the love of her life, but she still loved meeting new people and getting to know them.

"I'm so sorry for interrupting you but-" she said, pointing to the number written on her rose "I think I've been assigned to this table?" her voice was slightly higher than normal, most likely because she felt awkward interrupting the two people that were already sitting at the table. Once she had finished talking, she recognised who those people were: the girl was Martyna, one of the Hufflepuff duellists, while the boy was Rafael. The moment she realised that, she almost felt stupid for not recognising him sooner; Lydia could feel her heart beat a little bit faster, as her cheeks got red.

"Hi Martyna, Rafael," she greeted them and sat down, trying her best not to be too awkward. "This all looks so nice, doesn't it?"

-Lydia's outfit -

Reducio

If Valentine found out who it was that had signed him up for the event, he would have seen to it personally that they would regret it for the remainder of their time together at Hogwarts.

It was evident on his face, a perpetual grouch that he could not dispel. The only thing uplifting his bitter countenance was a finely decorated Venetian opera mask, one of the many tools of his trade. Before he became a learning wizard, he was a student and a dancer. Few expected someone like him to take such an interest, but it was one of the few things he was good at. He treasured moments like these, where he could feel empowered by his gifts.

But there would be no music today. The only melodies that accompanied Jackson Valentine were the voices in his head - those that spoke most loudly when his soul was quieted. Sweeping up a paper heart with the narrow gap between his index and middle finger, the masked boy stared languidly at his assignment.

16.

A squared number. How auspicious.

Had he a choice, or had he known his blind date, Valentine would have without a doubt boycotted this event to make better use of his time. For one, he had yet to go through puberty. Though his mind was aged beyond his years, his body exhibited a clear lack of hormones. He knew what love and sexual attraction were, but felt neither. Even on that night with @Lydia Cooper, where @Rafael D'Spacito had so violently mistaken his gesture as a move on his girl, he had felt no attraction to the gorgeous Hufflepuff. Sure, she was pretty, but it didn't mean a thing to him.

For two, even if he were a little physically older, he didn't believe that pre-matched dates would lead to any meaningful relationship in the long term. He trusted his own gut and instinct to feel for what was right for himself. Even then, he had long resolved to a lonesome life, realizing that the perils of the world he lived in made companionship dangerous for both. Love was a weapon, stronger than any form of magic, beyond that which many wizards could begin to comprehend. Harry Potter had seen to this many years prior. But love was also a weakness, a chink in the armor to be exploited. It was a double-edged sword, and he was not fit nor ready to wield it. Though a less popular and certainly less optimistic interpretation, Valentine saw the world for what it was and not what he wished it to be. He had stopped believing in fairytales since he was five. He surmised he would wait a few more years, perhaps three to four. By then, he would be older, more formidable, and wise enough to decide for himself and his future.

Nonetheless, he chose to present himself anyway. Although tediously disinterested in mundane affairs, Valentine was above all else, a gentleman. He did not have the audacity nor thoughtlessness to leave whoever it was he was meeting without a date. The least he could do was offer him or her a talk over a hearty meal. He would have loved to dance, but there was no music. It was around this point that his mask had come off, tucked into the palm of his hand like an unworn jacket. He hoped the table was large enough to accommodate his excessive adornment.

It was then that he saw the power couple.

The first thing he noticed was that there were three people at the table. Alright, so it was a multi-angular date. That was unexpected. The second thing he noticed was that Rafael and Lydia, the two people he had been thinking about just seconds ago, were there. This induced a full-on break in his advance, looking on with intrigue at the three-way that was occurring between the two he knew, and one @Martyna Romero whom he did not know.

For a rather peaceful moment, his bitter frown made way for a delighted smirk.

Well played, D'spacito. Well played.

Clad fully in pink, like a marshmallow bright and gay, Rafael had seemed genuinely happy. It was well deserved after all he had been through. Valentine could sense that the dynamics among the three were already beginning to form. His presence would merely throw a wrench or a further complication into what looked to be a blossoming friendship/relationship (he honestly couldn't tell at this point. Everyone and their mother was either mad for Rafa or mad at Rafa).

With a respectful directionless nod, and just as quaintly as he had arrived, Jackson Valentine gave no further of a look and left without a word. The smile on his face as he did so would reveal two things.

(1) He was glad that he could leave the progression of the date in the capable hands of people he knew.

(2) He was glad that he would not have to take responsibility if anything disastrous happened because of things the people he knew would do.

Valentine has left the thread.

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𝒱𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒'𝓈 𝒟𝒶𝓎 𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉

Interacting With: @Martyna Romero @Lydia Cooper
Mentioning: @Evelynn Decipio
For Convenience: @Jackson Valentine @Katherine Labrouder
Hex Color: #800000

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"Yes, group sixteen, that's me! Funny it’s a group with just two people. But I guess that's still a group. Like, more than one. I can count, obviously."

At the girl’s nervous antics, Rafael couldn’t help but chuckle brightly, taking much pleasure in gazing upon the stunning visage of his acquaintance with an oblivious sort of sparkle in his eyes and a warm smile tugging at his lips, exposing his perfectly straight teeth – ah, she was quite funny, he thought offhandedly, subconsciously toying about with the words uttered by her tactile lips. It would seem as if his new acquaintance was strikingly sharp in the grand art of conversation, doing well to keep the topics of the hour lighthearted and entertaining for the both of them, a gesture the Captain grandly appreciated, though he would do nothing to share such thoughts out loud. Of course, being the carefree and internally blonde boy he was at times, he couldn’t have possibly known of the pretty girl’s inner turmoil, nor her struggle for words – alas, it would seem as if the food upon his plate and the comforting presence of his unofficial date had done well to thoroughly distract him from the small things, such as the slight draft blowing in from somewhere in the castle or the sideways glance thrown at the two of them from someone or other. No matter. There were, of course, more important things to focus on at the moment, anyways – such as entertaining Martyna. Deciding wholeheartedly that he was to make the girl smile as soon as possible, he made quick work of a bright, dumb grin, straightening his hands outwards and flexing his fingers in and out wryly. “I can count, too,” he told her very seriously, though an almost wry look betrayed his stoic composure, “but not higher than one thousand. I used to be able to in English, but I suppose I’ve forgotten with time. I mean, when do you even need a thousand of something?” He scratched his head, looking off to the side at such an inquiry – it was actually a great question. Which, of course, prompted a short train of thought – how did you count over a thousand in English? Was he stupid for not remembering? Aish… perhaps he should use his phone to look up the translations when he got back home this summer. Wouldn’t hurt to know, he idly supposed. After all, he couldn’t give his co-captain another reason to make fun of his competence.

"Yes! Pink! It looks good on everyone. And it goes with your hair. Mama says mine's too dark to dye any other colour, but she doesn't even know how to do magic. I'll deffo dye mine like bright pink when I learn the spell to do it."

She was definitely on to something, he decided with another blinding grin – “Ah, you think so?” he said thoughtfully, glancing upwards at his fringe and blowing some of the loose strange from his eyes. “I was curious. A few of my dormmates gave me a hard time over it, but I kind of like the color.” Then, in regards to her own struggles, he put upon his face a most inquisitive look, scrunching his eyes as he scanned her luscious locks. “I think pink would look good on you, actually. I mean, pink is definitely your color. Hundo-percent.” The words sounded awkward on his native tongue, almost as if they didn’t belong – yet, it didn’t stop him from plowing through the conversation, as if the words were meant for his mouth. “Your mama just doesn’t understand the power of pink. Shame on her. Karens, amirite.” Wait, was her mom a Karen? Was that an offensive thing to say? He grinned, masking his inner turmoil by taking another bite of the apple he’d bought and chewing it thoughtfully. He would chuckle again in regards to her final statement on the matter – “Ah, spellcasting is so hard, though! I mean – imagine being a duellist. It really is a tough game, mad respect to those guys.” His head ached in phantom pain, remembering his duel with Eve last year. Deciding it wasn’t the time to think of such things, however, he decided to disregard such memories for the time being. “Speaking of dueling – do you participate on a school team? I mean, I’ve only glanced at the Huffles’ Quidditch Roster, but I can’t remember seeing your name. Even so, I may just be ignorant.” He rubbed his neck with a wince. “If so, I apologize. My memory deserts me from time to time.”

"What's a geme-los anyway? I mean, like, what language is that?"

The first phrase had admittingly lost Rafael, having just mentioned the translation, and for a moment, he wondered if he should play dumb, entertain her lovely visage – thankfully, her justification was prompt, clearing away his spontaneous confusion and drawing a small smile to his face. “Ah,” he sighed happily, a bout of color touching his cheeks as he chewed on his tongue in thought. He supposed his spontaneous language references must have struck as odd, as well as his funny linguistics. It had been a little while since someone had asked. “It’s Spanish, actually,” he answered thoughtfully, rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged, eyes glued to her gaze. “I’m actually Argentine – but I live in Barking now. English isn’t my first language” He laughed out the last part, his gaze falling to his apple once more. Was he embarrassed? Why should he be? Or perhaps he was… no, he couldn’t be flustered, there was no possible way. Fuck. His cheeks were coloring again. Do something. “Speaking of – “ he coughed suddenly into his fist, “Where are you from?” He gestured to his throat, nodding in her direction– “You have a dialect as well. Somewhere local, perhaps?”

However, his question died upon on his lips as the conversation was promptly interrupted, the familiar lilting tones of a Veela piercing the air like a strong perfume – it was a smell all familiar to the young man. It was her – oh God, no, it was her. The young Captain promptly turned about, his eyes widening in the slightest as he saw the girl who had shaken his miserable soul so acutely the year prior, the girl with luscious red hair, porcelain skin, piercing green eyes. Lydia Cooper hadn’t changed in the slightest, he noticed quietly, still the mesmerizingly beautiful girl she had been since first arriving at Hogwarts. It made the Captain sick. “It would appear to be so,” the boy would soon answer her smoothly, his tone utterly betraying his confused gaze and slightly agape mouth. Who’d partnered them together? Was this some sick joke? Were there cameras, here to gauge his reaction? Or worse, Lydia’s? He didn’t want anyone to see her distressed, the world obviously didn’t deserve such a merciless image. Nonetheless, he would shut away his pride, nodding towards the girl in question and doing his damned best to come across as cordial and inviting. “It’s nice to see you Lydia,” he would state brightly, his acting face offering the girl a happy, albeit reserved, smile. “I take it you two know each other, then? Agh, no fair!” His wording almost sounded like a lion’s yawn, his eyes shut and smile wide as he shook his head, shoulders hiked up in humor. His arms were crossed, however, still subconsciously uncomfortable to the new presence. Agh, it would seem as if the universe was up to its old schemes again. Bother. Hopefully this dining expenditure would end sooner rather than later.

Action • Entertaining the Lovely Ladies