Out of Sorts PV Olivia

Olivia didn't so much as flinch as the comically impractical mail carrier soared out of the tower. She kept her intense sneer fixed on George's face, her ears burning red under her ridiculous hat. She found herself tilting her head back to get a good look at him beyond the brim.

"You do recognize me, then," she started, her round little face burning red with frustration. She nudged back the brim with her hand, her eyes scanning his all-too-familiar features. Certainly a Henry boy, she thought.

"I've been trying to get a hold of you for days, George. Not to mention, you're-- I mean, I guess I'd be less surprised if it was your brother, no offense, but you're, what, a wizard?" She spoke the word in a lower tone, as if it were an accusation, despite the circumstances of their reunion.

The frustration his avoidance had created in her stomach subsided almost instantly when, as she tilted her head back and saw beyond the brim, her surroundings came into focus. Her lips parted, exposing her crooked, gapped teeth, and she scanned the tower in awe.

Shut your trap, said the voice in Olivia’s little mind, It’s only a stinky old tower with equally stinky old birds. With this, she pushed her bottom lip up to meet the top, now wearing a funny little frown, her eyes settled back on George.

Olivia had already chewed and swallowed her surprise in the days it took to corner George in conversation. Now, she let George reckon with his own shock, folding her arms over her chest and watching impatiently. She glanced down at herself at the mention of Slytherin, as if expecting to find it branded on her clothes. It wasn't, of course, but in the days since her house assignment, Olivia had truly started to embrace her serpentine nature. She seemed almost offended at the implication that this was surprising to George.

She didn't bother responding to his big initial reaction, instead waiting for his outburst to fizzle. She opened her mouth to respond at the word 'muggle', then just scoffed, looking around at their setting. She didn't need to correct him on this; the circumstances of their meeting had done that already.

Finally, as the conversation rounded back to a question worth answering, Olivia's posture eased, her arms relaxed by her side. "No, Malcolm's-- No. Unfortunately not." For a brief moment, an expression almost indicative of shame flashed across her little face. "Just me."

She scanned George up and down for a moment, finally taking him in up-close. "You're... How long have you been here?" She posed, vaguely gesturing to his outfit. Despite the obvious quirks in his dress, Olivia noted that George seemed almost natural in this environment. Tall, at least from her perspective, and assured in himself, George appeared to be a certified wizard-- How ridiculous a notion, thought Olivia.

Of course - the Henry curse, to be a muggle-born with a tragically unmagical older sibling. Maybe some sort of blood curse inherited from a distant squib ancestor. Malcolm and Sam would have to start some sort of support group for muggles who were unfortunate enough to know the big secret - there was a real, actual, magical society, and they were not allowed in. The Welsh part of his family had never visited enough for him to know the dynamics between Olivia and her brother, but he knew that it hurt when the baby got to go to magic school and the big bro didn't.

"Oh," said George softly. A few more floating feathers settled around their feet, leaving them to stand in the deserted owlery. The sealed envelope moved from one of George's hands to the other as he fidgeted with it, creasing the paper at the corners. Malcolm's not magic, just like Sam. "Sorry."

But still... it was Olivia. His family. His actual family, here, at Hogwarts, with him. Maybe not how he'd always dreamed, but could it be close enough? His parents, too, they could talk about it now. They'd have someone who understood.

"I'm a fourth-year, Olivia. Hufflepuff. Captain of the broom racing team. Pleasure to meet you," he intoned, raising an eyebrow down at her. His apprehension was swiftly melting away, a smirk growing on his face before breaking into a grin. His heart had been racing the entire time - previously from adrenaline, but now from genuine excitement. No longer suppressing it, he broke out into a full, giddy smile. "You're... you're really Olivia... you're really a wizard!"

And like that, he swooped in and scooped Olivia up into a big, bear hug, twirling her around the owlery. Cool air rushed in from the windows, ruining the family reunion by bringing a reminder of the awful stench of owl droppings past their nose. George stopped his spinning and abruptly set her down to her feet, shaking his head. "Okay, let's get out of the owlery. Come on, come this way - I need to show you something. There might still be time..."

George checked his watch as he started down the stairwell, peeking out the windows toward the edge of the grounds. With his free hand, he dug into his satchel, reaching his full arm into what ought to have been a rather shallow bag. Finally, he found what he wanted, pulling out an old slip with a Hogwarts seal on it. "Hold on," he murmured. He spread the paper out on a windowsill, letting Olivia catch a glimpse. It was some kind of permission slip. "So... did you... you didn't know about all this stuff, did you? Isn't it fantastic?"

Reaching into his bag again, George found a quill, a green one. He stuck the tip in his mouth and pulled it out with a smack of his lips, and it took off, floating over the parchment - the nib hovering just over the line where a signature ought to be placed. "Clark Henry," he spoke, and the quill scratched it onto the paper. It did not look like his signature - but who would know?