Fire tests Gold Completed

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	October was here already. It was a distinctive feeling, being powerless to time. Though fortunately for him, it was one that the Leveret boy had felt the sting of before, and so he was well prepared for what the advancing school year could mean. Thankfully, Avery was not one to fill his head with the woes and worries of his supposed ‘peers’, and he had more than enough time to brush up on his ability in and out of class thanks to the copious amount of time he spent in the commonroom hall, the library and even in his own dorm; where he could gaze out into the depths of the black lake through the window by his writing desk. He had done well, so far. Charms class was probably the most interesting, for it never really struck him that spellcasting was an introspective task; like archery mostly was. Defence Against the Dark Arts was the clear favourite, for obvious reasons; you get to learn about spells and the various mysteries of the worlds, or at least the ones the school deems fit to teach them. Both had netted him “O’s”, to the delight of his mother in their first exchange of owls. What neither of them expected was his O in herbology, which he thought was a clear result of his interest in the wandiwork that he could lean into for his duelling. He read and re-read her owl on the way down from the owlery. Was that it? A polite enough encouragement but it was almost dismissive; did he expect that? Deep down he probably did, but that wasn’t something he was to face down just yet. He might have had the time to confront those thoughts, if he wasn’t so rudely interrupted by a girl by the lake, shouting the Fire-Making Charm he had just been thinking of. “Incendio!” He heard her say, producing nothing. It was immediately suspicious to the pale boy, who wasn’t disarmed by her charming looking hair. He wasn’t used to the idea of failure, sure enough it had happened to him but he was of the mind to stamp it out whenever he could; privately too. “Incendio!” She said again, before a spurt of smoke plumed from her wand. He curled a small smirk at that, it was rather funny. Though he could swear he saw her eyes shift over to him as he walked the path nearest to her, through the thin wooded part close to the shore. He couldn’t well continue on his walk now, lest she remember his face. The pale boy emerged from the treeline, offering a flat smile as he opted to walk closer. What was he doing? He could just pass it off with a laugh and move on, he’d probably never see her again since the school was that big. – Wait, he knew the girl. She was a Slytherin like he was, and they had shared the commonroom once during his first week here, when he didn’t fancy writing in his dorm. Well, it’s a good job he was stopping to ‘help’... “I don’t mean to intrude but I'd bet my last Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum that your frown is behind your failure, miss.” He gave, offering another smirk, though this one held more amiability and friendly intent than the last.
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Interacting with @Caoimhe Kyle

DATE ┊ 10/15/2022 - 1500-----OUTFIT ┊ click here-----HAIR ┊ click here-----MENTIONS ┊ @Avery Leveret-----
STATUS ┊ open-----WC ┊ 280/200-----ENGLISH ┊ "words"-----SWAHILI ┊ "words"-----THOUGHTS ┊ "words"

-----A well-dressed, vampire-like boy appeared in her peripheral vision. Caoimhe spun around nearly falling into the frigid lake, but regained her poise by taking a step back from the edge. The Slytherin's temper had already flared as she felt intruded on, and she was now humiliated after failing to cast a basic spell and nearly falling into the lake. The lad wore a smirk; his smile practically taunting her, but Caoimhe would simply smile back before addressing him. The student has been taken off guard by him once, but she refused to disgrace herself again in his presence.

"There's no need for betting," Caoimhe stated with a strained chuckle, "You've got me pegged quite well."

Caoimhe noticed they were in the same Defense Against Dark Arts class after closer examination of his features. Caoimhe was not the kind to converse or make friends in class -- at least not in a class she enjoyed such as DADA. The pupils surrounding her in class were nameless, nobodies, if you will. Despite the fact that there were so many wizards in one classroom, it appeared that many of them couldn't properly wield or cast to save their lives, but a careful eye saw this boy's daftness with a wand and appreciated him for it. Caoimhe felt embarrassed to have trashed so many witches and wizards prior, but now she couldn't cast an 'Incendio.'

"Are you going to demonstrate it for me?" Caoimhe inquired with a smile featuring her dimples. Perhaps observing an astute student such as him will illuminate on Caoimhe's short-comings? That's if he didn't get under her skin again or strike a nerve against the girl; who knew how she'd react?

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Outfit:

Reducio

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	Avery was indeed vampire-like, but he lived, breathed, walked and talked as she did; moving closer so that he wasn’t shouting. He saved his reply for when he had arrived a few feet from her, looking her up and down rather obviously before glancing at her rare cherry-wood wand and up-turning his lips in a kind of shrug. Huh, not what he had expected. Though then again, wands and their wizards- or witches in this case. The pale boy was in suitable, wintery apparel. A black sweater concealed a silver chain necklace, paired with jeans and heel-high boots, finished with a rather comfy looking, fur-lined, brown winter jacket that he currently had his hands stowed in. “It’s a skill of mine. I can figure people out pretty easily. And you, you either didn’t pay attention in charms or you’re just not focusing.” He said, matter-of-factly. Were they not even going to exchange names? - In the classes that they did share, it was entirely possible that she knew him to be a plain-speaking and often ruthless student. Little mercy did he show, when students messed up; and he wasn’t the kind to shy away from correcting or outshining them. He was all too focused on himself, in class. So he didn’t particularly have an opinion of Caoimhe, though he did wonder if her private spell practice down by the lake was the reason he didn’t know of her, as he’d surely remember the faces of those nobodies that cocked up in class. In a way, he thought that was her one redeemable quality. She was striving for more, and she was doing it alone. With a small judgemental sigh he pulled his right hand out of his pocket, nearly dropping a letter as he did before he stuffed it back in, then reaching inside the fold of his coat to pull his 11’’ chestnut wand from a holster that was fashioned into the pureblood-minded coat. All the while, he kept a steely gaze on her, as though he was trying to break into her mind and figure her out. “Incendio.” He said at last, and because he took so long in turning his head from her, it could well be believed that he had intended to scare her in some manner. Though at the last second, as his hand shot out right-ward towards the lake, so had his head to watch his hand perform the up-turned ‘V’ wand movement and the resulting flame shoot out like a projectile across the lake, before it fizzled and eventually dis-ignited a distance from the shore. He had made it look easy. “In-SEN-dee-o.” He repeated, drawing out the movement with his hand for extra clarity. He opted not to jab at her just yet, he just wanted to see her try one more time before he passed judgement on her.
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Interacting with @Caoimhe Kyle

DATE ┊ 10/15/2022 - 1500-----OUTFIT ┊ click here-----HAIR ┊ click here-----MENTIONS ┊ @Avery Leveret-----
STATUS ┊ open-----WC ┊ 817/200-----ENGLISH ┊ "words"-----SWAHILI ┊ "words"-----THOUGHTS ┊ "words"

-----The lad had, without a doubt, correctly discovered the flaw in Caoimhe's spell casting. She wasn't focused - her mind was lost in knots of doubt regarding her talent, her identity, her pedigree. She was well-versed in the aspect of the charm, from its origins to its incantation and pronunciation to the precise motion of the wand. It was the only reasonable theory since everything else was correct, almost perfect. But almost isn't good enough.

Caoimhe maintained her hazel-rich eyes firm onto the steely ones of the boy's; their gazes lingering as if seeking to uncover the secrets the other carried deep inside, yearning to break in. Yet she wasn't just a book to be read. The girl would not bend or to look away from him. Rather, she tilted her head to the side waiting for his move. Her eyes met his with naïve wonderment, yet her expression betrayed a wry smirk, as if she found the staring match amusing. To be truthful, she found it entertaining, but only because she was familiar with the boy's strength behind the wand from their shared classes and didn't mind witnessing his skill up close.

Her teasing sneer disappeared as the boy dropped a letter from his pocket, watching him scurry to pick it up and return it back to its proper spot of his coatpocket. She would wonder what the letter meant to him, but it was none of her business. He would soon start his demonstration.

Taking a short step to the side enabling him to take her position at the waters edge, Caoimhe would retain his stare without uttering a word. The two of them held one other in intense attention for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for one of them to finally give. It appeared as if neither would, and he ultimately moved and collected his wand.

With the chestnut wooden wand, the Slytherin lad casted a faultless 'Incendio,' her face morphing into a real grin very awed by the flame in all of its grandeur. Of course, students in classrooms had to dial the power behind the spell, so the effect was diminished. Seeing this would just remind her the ability the kid had with a wand, and what she might be capable of if she would concentrate.

Caoimhe said with a smile as she looked at the smoke on the water.

Focus. That seemed an impossible feat, but the youngster would gaze at her inquiring, nay, testing her abilities. Part of Caoimhe desired to impress him too but for what purpose, she did not know yet. He made her interested and part of her desired his approval, but knew he would not be one to be readily impressed. She could tell that impressing him would take work by the way he carried himself so conducted yet proud. So Pureblood like.

Part of his mannerism provoked jealousy in her thinking. Purebloods had it so easy; they did not have to labor for fame, their legacy was already constructed for them and presented on a silver platter. Of course Caoimhe had certain privileges coming from her Pureblood father, but it wouldn't matter owing to her mother's family having the notoriety they had. Caoimhe believed she'd have to strive even harder to show that she had the same caliber as her Pureblood ancestors.

She'd dismiss this emotion as Caoimhe knew her thoughts would reveal her as a hypocrite with how much she wished she was a Pureblood. However, she was a hypocrite because she was prejudiced against muggles but used their technology. Caoimhe felt that she was going through an identity crisis at the tender age of 12, her thinking was so muddled.

Focus. Caoimhe needs to stop thinking. She could feel his stare on her, the pressure was on. Caoimhe reached into the back pocket of her pants and drew out a wand made of cherry wood. With a deep breath in, she pushed her worries and concerns away, much like the steam from her nose does when she exhales. Focus.

Caoimhe strolled to the edge of the sea looking blankly to the distance.
"In-SEN-dee-o," she would say finally breaking the stillness before striking her wand outwards towards the lake then making an upward V movement. Fire burst from the tip of her wand in a lone projectile flame reaching across the lake, the heat hurting her eyes slightly before the length of the flame terminated before fizzling out. Caoimhe glanced at the kid, almost questioningly, as the smoke from their spells filled the air.

Caoimhe was pleased with her accomplishments and gave little thought to what he might think. There was a part of her that hoped his lifeless, icy face would suddenly glow with recognition and that he would offer some kind of affirmative comment. But she knew his type, or just Purebloods in general, she would need to work harder for that.

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Outfit:

Reducio

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	-----How was it he had ended up here. It was a cold and almost frigid winter morning, in the very north of Scotland; a notoriously dismal and dour place. Somehow, even beyond that fact and the fact that his fingertips were hurting because they were so cold, he couldn’t complain too much. His dark gaze had let up, shifting from her for a moment to dance over the lake and then up the castle that was a short distance away. Whatever was said about the climate, it made for a neat backdrop for their little game. That’s what he thought it was anyway. A game. – He’d proven himself at least, with the added benefit of the marginal amount of heat given off by his spell warming his frozen cheeks, and now they had entered into a very different kind. The pale boy watched like a hawk would prey. That comparison wasn’t so accurate, he thought. It was an odd thing, their staring. He couldn’t tell if she was as odd as he was, or just as proud or competitive, and that didn’t make for prey; it made for competition. Avery had already ticked off a number of individuals, but none that had alarmed him too much; none that posed too much of a threat. His aspirations were apparent, and he was open with them whenever he got the chance, mostly. Avery saw himself, a duellist. It was another form of dancing that he liked, in fact all forms of dancing that weren’t dancing, were preferred; verbal dancing, mental dancing and the likes, but duelling was something else altogether. It had only been a month and a half of school, and Avery had already taken to volunteering himself in clase, whenever he could. It felt powerful, casting spells at people. It was a feeling that he supposed that everyone felt, he was just open in his opinions about it, besides he didn’t know much better, being a lowly first year. But he wasn’t just a first year, and he had wondered if that could be said about the girl with wavy hair. She had met his gaze, whenever he had given it to her. Her added smirk was enough to conjure his own, though with a small squint; she was already impressive on that fact alone, but the meat of the matter would come to her spellcasting. Too often had he been told not to suffer fools but perhaps there was a purpose to this, to the sparks that seemed to strike whenever their eyes shared a moment. Was she someone to look out for, or just another nobody? He longed for substantial competition. Suddenly, Avery squinted with some amount of malice, had she just pulled a cherry wand from her pocket? Perhaps that had just answered his question. He wasn’t much of a Wandlore–ist, but he understood its relevance, his mother had hosted Japanese socialites during one of the Quidditch World Cups, and he remembered, distinctly, that they spoke of acherry wood wands and their symbolism and suspected power. Really? She stood here, with short spurts of smoke extruding from her wand, and one had supposedly chosen her. Avery was internally furious, undoubtedly born of his jealousy. This presented problems, especially if she was to be, competition. Naturally, she succeeded in her charm with a great jet of flame roaring out over the lake, as if to personally stick a finger up at him. It irked him so much, it almost stung. “I was beginning to think you couldn’t cast a basic charm.” He said with controlled spite before he opted to try for her name; if he was to be wary of someone, it was usually more successful with the bare minimum. “I’m Avery.” He said, as if that was enough to convince her to reply with hers.
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Interacting with @Caoimhe Kyle

• A BRISK BEGINNING TO AN UNKNOWN JOURNEY •

15th October | Great Lake
wc: 486
Avery's Speech

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	-----A very was, seemingly, unaware of the fire that had awoken within her. His eyes squinted, in suspicion of her. They were deeply set in their sockets, and almost sunken; which gave him a near perpetual look of intensity and suspicion; but this was different. His stormy grey irises were a stark contrast to his fair skin, appearing as dark pools most of the time or black in certain lights. They seemed to possess an unwavering and unflinching quality that had often unnerved a number of people that had met them; but she was different. Her hazelful eyes were as unwavering as his, which caused him to knit his thick, dark and sharply defined eyebrows into a slight frown, which casted shadows on his face. He wasn’t doltish, and could tell that she had taken his jibe personally. Avery’s frown let up into a smile, recognising that she was more similar to him than she would probably like to admit for she had taken his jeer and turned it into fuel. Throwing aside this recognition, he lifted his chin in curiosity. She had spoken as a Pureblood. Surname, then forename. It caused another ripple in the dark pools of his. His approximation of her changed again, and again; over and over. Be that as it may, her name was one he would remember, for better or for worse. “Caoimhe Kyle.” He repeated, nodding again to her, though it was more for his own sake; using the motion as confirmation that he had seared it into his memory. “Well, given that you’ve given me yours, it would only be right; Leveret. Avery Leveret.” He gave, lacking the pride that he had once held for the name, as he watched her reaction curiously to see if she had heard any spiteful rumours or whispers around the castle that seemed never to sleep. “Well. Keep it up, Ms. Kyle.-- You don’t need me to take from your focus anymore than I already appear to have.” He said, as he scanned the vast expanse of water; finally having peeled his eyes from hers. Finally, he recognised the cool breeze that swept over his face; tousling his dark hair. It was only brief, but for that moment he was somewhere else, lost in thought and contemplation; in the future. Would they look back at this spot in the same way? Next time, would he end up soaked? He could only wonder. With a determined set to his jaw and figure, he slipped his wand back into the fashioned pocket and turned on his heel, beginning to stride purposefully away, still in earshot should she respond or react and even if she did; he wouldn’t honour her with a response; opting to resdie neatly in her head for the next little while. That was how he did it.
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Interacting with @Caoimhe Kyle

DATE ┊ 10/15/2022-----STYLE ┊ outfit & hair-----MENTIONS ┊ @Avery Leveret-----WC ┊ 484/200
-----ENGLISH ┊ "words"-----FRENCH ┊ "words"-----ARABIC ┊ "words"-----THOUGHTS ┊ "words"

-----Her hardened gaze made it plainly evident that she had been roused by fire without a doubt. The fellow Slytherin in front of her was not a fool to miss the searing wrath in her eyes.

While scrutinizing her, his eyes became more focused, and she had no choice but to respond in the same manner. She didn't like to admit it, but she had a strong hunch that she and him were more alike than they were different, despite the fact that he had a sly aura. She saw a significant difference in his mood after she cast her spell. It started when she took her wand from her pocket and saw the sharpening of his venomous stare. Caoimhe had little understanding of or experience with wandlore, thus the way he examined her wand perked her interest. Perhaps she'd have to undertake her own research into the symbolism behind her cherry wand.

There was an uneasy and even fatal vibe between the two of them. Perhaps it was the early fog, or the fact that the two snakes were actively measuring up each other now that they were aware that there was significant competition to be had. She did not express herself overtly, but she held her ground nonverbally by returning a focused gaze and relinquishing the carefree smile she had previously worn. Caoimhe couldn't wait to get back to spell-casting; she craved the sensation of holding power once more.

The boy bid his farewell while surveying the landscape around them; she didn't dare to pull her attention away from him once he dropped his gaze. Caoimhe yearned to know what was on his mind, analyzing his demeanor and body language for clues. Of course, she'd find nothing to take away, so she, too, averted her gaze and gave a curt nod to his words when their gazes clashed for the final time.

She had a knot in her throat and was nearly choked up with things she wanted to convey but wouldn't. She made her introduction, keeping it brief and formal. She'd wait until their paths cross again before attempting to move in their game of chess.

Caoimhe stared down as he turned to walk away, twirling her wand between her fingers. Of course, she believed her wand was exquisite, but there was something she didn't know and was eager to find out. But her thoughts would revert to the mysterious Slytherin as he strolled the waters edge like a vampire at night.

"Avery Leveret," she confirmed under her breathe, searing his name to her memory, frowning at his silhouette in the distance. While researching wandlore, she would ponder the notion of conducting a study on his ancestry as well. She desired to know the mystery behind the boy; what was hiding behind his gaze of steel.

Yet none of that mattered to her right now; there was work to be done.

COMPLETED