Mariah sat at a lone table in the Great Hall of the Leaky Cauldron, music and laughter carrying on around her. She stared intently at a figure shrouded in a black cloak, a large pointed nose sticking out from the hood. Mariah wondered idly what the face behind the shadow looked like, but her true focus was capturing the shades upon the nose and the differences of light reflected upon its surface. She could just make out the large wart on the very edge of the nostril and she decided, with a shiver, that it had to be the most grotesque snout that she ever had the pleasure of putting on paper.

Mariah used her thumb to smooth and blend the hard lines of her pencil and gave a frustrated sigh when they stubbornly stuck to their guns. How was she supposed to capture the genuine hideous nature of the nose if her pencil refused to cooperate? She sighed, think enviously of the many pencils she could get at the muggle store in london if her mother had allowed her to rummage through instead of dragging her off to the mall to look at dresses. Not that she minded dresses. They were all rather beautiful. It was just faced with the two decisions, there would have been no contest. She would have happily milled around the art store all day.

Celynne stood against the wall of the Leaky Cauldron, feeling extremely out of place in the tiny, packed room. Though the pub radiated a sense of welcoming, she still felt as if surrounded by strangers, and strangers were... dangerous, at least to her. Her eyes kept darting toward the door, as if she wanted to leave.
Mere minutes before, she'd been instructed by her, well, parent figure, as she could put it, Joshua Parker, of whom she referred to with his surname, to purchase her school supplies. Wand, books, materials, tools, robes-- all bought. After she had finished, she was to meet him at the Leaky Cauldron after he visited Gringotts for extra gold.
Of course, Cel finished early, and of course, she would be forced to wait.
And so, still in her muggle-esque apparel and drawing stares, she had been standing there for twenty minutes, her belongings set down on a nearby table. She'd come into the tavern inn through the tiny door not knowing what to expect, but here it was: A packed bar, dimly lit by torches, the warmth of fire emanating a welcoming glow, music and chatter filling the air. Yet she only waited, her mind wandering to places surely outside of the Leaky Cauldron, before a change in the bar music caught her attention.
As the previously rowdy and cheerful song ended, the next melody came into place: a tune with a Celtic twist, one that she was surprised she knew. Cel had heard the song playing in Parker's lecture hall before his lecture had started, and she'd taken a liking to it, so she'd begun singing it, regardless of the fact that she knew practically nothing about it.
Cel found herself humming as the music progressed, pushing off the wall to step through the crowd to better watch the musicians playing, placing herself at the front of the people who had gathered to watch. Before she knew it, she was singing loudly enough to be noticed, and several people around her offered smiles.
"You there, young lady with the sweet voice," one of the musicians called, stopping the song to wave a beckoning hand forward. The crowd parted around her, and Cel realized he was talking to... her. His kind, aged eyes twinkled. "Why don't you come on up, sing for us?"
"Me?" Cel asked, rather idiotically. Well, she couldn't very well refuse him, not after she'd been singled out... so she turned to face the witches and wizards, and as the song started up again, began to sing.

"You there!"Mariah's head snapped up as the music stopped and a girl was pulled onto the stage. She looked a little uncomfortable. No doubt, it was because of her being put on the spot without a hint of preparation. Mariah felt for her slightly, in a "I'm glad that's not me" kind of way. Then she was singing and Mariah was thoroughly impressed. The girls voiced carried throughout the tavern, hitting ever corner and ,in turn, every ear. One could ear that appreciation rumble through the voices in the huddled groups. Mariah flipped to an empty page in her sketch pad and began to draw the scene unfolding before her.

People listened intently, some sang along, and others stood to dance, laughing- jovial. Mariah didn't even think to join them, her pencil moving at impressive speed across the page. The sketch took form, the stage, the outline of the band, the girl, and even the crowds of dancing people across the floor. She smiled at the joy that rippled through the room but stayed intent on her task at hand. Her father said that capturing the little moments for others to see was always a joy. It allowed people to revisit something or see something that one had not seen before.

As Cel first began to sing, her voice was tentative, her instincts of not wishing to attract unwanted attention kicking in... and perhaps just general shyness at being put on the spot. But as the song progressed, her voice grew louder, resonating with more emotion, and she smiled as she sang, surprised to find that she was actually enjoying the experience.
Several heads were beginning to turn, hearing a younger, new voice in the music. An old wizard sporting a scraggly white beard began to clap along with the tempo, and others began to join in as Cel continued to sing, slight redness blossoming on her cheeks from the unusual and unexpected attention.
As the song ended, most in the tavern had noticed the young singer on the stage and clapped for her, parting to allow her to step away from the stage and join the rowdy crowd once more. And... ugh, Parker still hadn't come yet.
The girl looked around the packed tavern, then seated herself at a near-empty table beside a girl who looked about the same age as herself. She had a sketch bad on the table, and... hey, was that her?
"Hi," Cel greeted tentatively, leaning over slightly to better see the masterful artwork.

Mariah's eyes had followed the girl, attempting to catch the last bits of detail, but as she grew closer, Mariah's eyes darted down to the paper. She was slightly shocked when the girl.sat beside her. She was positive she didn't know her. Mariah didn't play with children her own age, just her brothers.

"Hi," Mariah replied, noticing she was looking at her sketchpad. Mariah wante yo cover the sketch for some reason. Hide it and deny being a creeper, but it was too late. She saw it. Mariah gave up, sliding the sketch pad over to her.

"I couldn't help myself," she explained sheepishly. "It was a nice moment. I like to draw them." Mariah hoped she wouldn't be weirded out by it. It wasn't every day some random stranger drew your face.

Cel grinned. This girl certainly had talent, and she looked about the same age as herself... perhaps she was heading to Hogwarts as well. Well, surely it wouldn't hurt to make a few friends, or acquaintances at least, before beginning the school year.
"It's beautiful," she commented, noting each precise angle and curve on the sketched scene. Her own face had been depicted perfectly with light, feathery strokes, something difficult to do. Most artists could never get her right, with her strange mix of asian and French and who knew what else. "I'm Celynne, by the way," she added, introducing herself, "but call me Cel." The other girl had certainly captured the details. Even now, she seemed to be glancing at Cel's face as a reference, completing the sketch. The other people in the drawing seemed less defined, illustrated with simpler strokes of graphite, but the objects in sight seemed to become more detailed as they were in closer proximity to herself, making it look as if Cel was standing at the center of an earthquake of detail... if that didn't sound too strange. She decided against mentioning her thoughts.
As she pondered the artwork, she found herself wondering if this girl could perhaps become a friend... but that wouldn't be a possibility if she wasn't going to the school, though it was very likely that she was. Better to make sure, though. If not, she had still gained an acquaintance, at the very least. "Are you going to Hogwarts too?"

"Yeah," Mariah replied. That was the whole reason she sat on the tavern. Her mother had dragged Mariah to muggle london on a shopping trip for her new wardrobe. Of course, after that was through, her mother sat Mariah in the Leaky cauldron and said:

"Don't move from this spot, Elizabeth! Mummy has to get your start of school present!" Every Menstil got one before their year at Hogwarts and Mariah had hoped it wouldn't be that hideous Jumper her mother insisted on Mariah getting. She had refused adamantly, telling her it looked like something Gran would wear. But this girl didn't need to know that.

"Just finishing up some shopping," Mariah elaborated. "Or Mum is." She gave a rueful smile, absolutely positive the earlier jumper was a part of her immediate future. "When she's on a roll like this, there's no stopping the chaos."

Mariah rolled her eyes as if it were intolerable, but the truth was she loved shopping with her mother. It was like a treasure hunt. If you kept at it long enough, you'd find the next best thing in fashion hiding behind a sales rack in a tucked away thrift. Thrifts always had interestingly new fashion.

Cel smiled gently, if not wistfully. She'd never really experienced the 'shopping with parents' feeling, unless going to the bookstore with some professor from Oxford counted, which she was pretty sure did not.
And the train of thought she considered, of course, decided to drag her mind through a stroll through the past.
A face flashed. Similar to her own, but blurry, only visible for a moment. Eyes as dark and brown as Cel's, hair in an unruly braid, looking down at her. And then another face: This one male, with blue eyes and dark brown hair, speaking to the first. And Celynne herself, wide-eyed and not understanding a word.
Then she jumped back into the present, a hand shooting to her head, eyes wide in shock. Another one? A flashback had already happened in Ollivander's, and now another in here... they were just getting more frequent and more detailed. Perhaps joining this school wasn't such a good idea after all, but then again, Cel couldn't judge it, not without making her judgement sound rather hypocritical. And she couldn't back out at this point, anyway.
Then she realized that she had an audience-- the girl in front of her. Maybe if Cel acted like she had just blanked for a second, she wouldn't ask...?
"I feel bad for you," Cel commiserated, doing her best to patch up the strange few seconds that she hadn't responded. "What's your name?"

"Mariah," she said, slowly, watching the girl closely for a second then shrugging the odd moment off. "Mariah Menstil. What about you, are you stuck too?" Mariah tried not to come off over eager. It was the first girl her age that she had ever talked to and she was worried about getting it right the first time. She'd sometimes wished they had closer neighbors with daughters so they could talk about girl things when she was growing up. Clothes and books and things.

She didn't mind having a Tony, Marcus, and Dill to play with. In fact, she enjoyed it, the rough tussles and break neck quidditch games in the back yard. It wasn't boring in the least, but it wasn't like you could just walk up to one of your older brothers and ask them if your dress clashed with your skin complexion, or if you pants made your butt look like it didn't exist.

Mariah supposed sue didn't mind asking her Mother, but how much of that could she take. Her mom would probably ask her who she expected to look at her but anyway? And then Mariah would have to explain that it wasn't about catching people's eyes, it was about confidence and knowing that you looked amazing!

"Me?" Cel replied to the other girl- Mariah's- question. "Uh, not really. Well, kind of. I mean, I just went to shop for school supplies and my... um..." Well, what could she call Parker? Nothing exactly fit. Professor sounded too stiff and made it sound as if he was a professor at Hogwarts or something. He wasn't her parent, either-- obviously. Guardian, maybe? No, that wouldn't work either.
"My proctor," she continued, grateful that the right word had come to her, "told me to wait here while he went to Gringotts for a little more gold." Good enough. Wait... wasn't proctor an American term? Oh, shoot. What did it mean here? Cel thought hard until the answer-- one that she kind of wished was incorrect-- came to her. It meant an officer at a University, didn't it.
"Oh-well- not my proctor," the girl corrected herself hurriedly. "My, um, guardian." Well, it was the next best word, and less likely to provoke too many questions.
"So, what House do you think you'll be in?" Cel asked, changing the subject to avoid any further embarrassment. She had read about Hogwarts as soon as she had bought enough books at Flourish and Blotts, and Parker had told her about the school before she had left Oxford.