Errand Better Late Than Never PV

If there was any student who deserved to have their wand taken away and a mop shoved into their hands, it was George Henry. That's how he felt when Olphie walked into the room and caught him red-handed, blush from her kit staining his palms all shades from Cotton Candy to Firetruck. The boy tensed and turned on his heel, at first putting his palms out to show he meant no harm - only to whip them back behind his back as he noticed the mess he'd made. "Oh! Um - hi, miss Bercegeay! I was just looking.. um.. I was uh... just making sure all of your makeup was in order!"

He put on a cherubic smile, spoiled slightly by the stripe bisecting his face. He maintained the awkward silence for a good few moments, making to speak only for no sound at all to come out of his gaping mouth. Then, a flash of insight hit him - he had to follow through with the lie. He turned around to continue organizing the little boxes and brushes in their rightful places. A creatively arranged cornucopia of brushes, applicators, sponges, and powders was set across the desk. The array of components and tools would make a potions professor blush. He spied his favorite of the bunch laying in the pile - partially used, but now abandoned. If he followed through with the lie, he wouldn't be able to keep it. His hand hovered over the little box, eyeing the powder within. A reflection of himself in the mirror caught his gaze. It suited him perfectly. He really ought to have it.

"Can I keep this?" The words spilled out of his mouth in a hurry as he turned around, holding the box up for Olphie to examine. He stood on his tip-toes, trying not to inconvenience her further by making her lean down to see, or have to squint, or anything else that could possibly worsen his odds of taking home the prize. "I'd even let you keep the house points if I could have it. Or, uh- I..."

He fished in his pockets, pinching at the fabric of his heirloom trousers and pulling up his haul - a single sickle. It sat there in the center of his stained palm like a solitary oasis in a desert of pink sand. He left it behind him, in the place where the makeup box had lay. It was not worth the effort to gauge her reaction to the offer. He'd just have to hope she would let him have it by the kindness of her heart.

His eyes sparkled with the charming innocence of a child deceiving an adult to get what they want.

"Please?"

The boy was cute; he had that going for him. As he turned and she looked at her palms, Olphie realized that the damage he had taken on her makeup collection was far more extensive than she had realized. She red on his hands made the Jorge look like one bad apple, but the cherubic expression on that sweet, brown-haired face made him look as though he was a sweet angel. His response was precious, saying that he was simply trying to ensure that her makeup was in order, when that clearly was not the only thing he had been attempting to do.

With a wink, she said, "That pink may look a little bit more fitting on your cheeks. See how I've done it?" She pointed to her face, cheeks highly accented by far too much makeup, but still more in an appropriate location than a stripe down the center. 

It seemed, though the boy did not know how to use it, that he was quite taken by the powdered blush, as he asked to keep it. Olphie let out a loud laugh, shocked by the boy's courage to ask for something that he had clearly no right to. It reminded her of something...herself. Bold. Daring. Flashy. Fashionable. Well...perhaps not the last one, but he'd get there, with a bit of help.

She moved forward, closing the gap between herself and Mr. Henri, as she dug through a few other supplies, settling on a compact tube: mascara. "Take this too, dear. It'll highlight your eyes better. If you run out, you can come back for more...so long as it's not too much more.

"Anything I can do to improve the well-being of Hogwarts students," she added mindlessly, reflecting on the horrific outfits and painted faces she had seen back in her day. When she had accepted the job from Headmaster Leech, she had promised herself that she would make Hogwarts better than it had been when she had attended there. The school needed her. "No need for repayment, of course; you've done enough! Look how nice my office looks now. You and the other four...you did a far better job than those disgusting elves would have. It's the least I could do to give you mascara and blush."

She winked once more, though there were many possibilities as to what she was making the motion toward. With a degree of finality, though she truly hoped the words she spoke, Olphie concluded her interaction by saying, "Now, off you get Mr. Hokeypokey. You come to me if you need any assistance. I hope to see you around. And thank you again."

The Flying professor settled into her chair and looked around her office. Everything looked orderly and perfect, now, save the bit of makeup that Gorge had disrupted. But she didn't mind, for he had left her with a greater gift than the inconvenience: he was going to make Hogwarts even more fashionable than before.