Closed Autumn gatherings

Whilst Saunders Napier was not a boy raised among bustling harbours or bays where ships danced gracefully upon the waves, the Thames held a special significance for any Londoner. It was, after all, a river that could rival the seas, nay, oceans. Perhaps it was this connection, or maybe it was his grandfather’s glamorous enthusiasm regarding the creatures that were as magical as they were aquatic, that drew Saunders to the edge of any body of water he encountered. Among all those creatures, it was not a sleek hippocampus or a majestic kelpie that fascinated him most. Rather, it was the humble Plimpy.

And so, here he was again, standing at the shore of the Great Lake, his thoughts adrift like the ripples on the water. Why had he come? Even he was not entirely sure. Perhaps he would toss a few stones into the depths, maybe he expected simply to watch the surface shimmer in the afternoon light, or perhaps he’d just let the gentle breeze untangle the knots in his thoughts. Nature always had a peculiar way of soothing him, filling the spaces where words and answers failed.

Some sort of uneasiness was pacing like a shadow through the huge alleys of his mind. He tried to trace its origin, but the threads unravelled in his grasp. Some things in life were maddeningly unreasonable, Saunders had to accept that, considering the fact that even time itself seemed to stretch and twist in moments like these, heavy with boredom and coated in a kind of soot that dulled the spark of living.

As these musings drifted through him, his eyes caught sight of a girl along the shore. Her curly hair framed a face serene in stillness as if she were drawing peace from the air. Should he speak to her? His grandmother’s words fluttered through his mind... "Trust your instincts, Saunders." His instincts were nudging him forward now. Still, his analytical mind once again attempted to make sense of that particular urge. Why her? What was so special about this moment? He did not know. In the end, he shrugged. The boy was ambitious, yes, but he had a knack for surrendering to the unknown when it felt right.

He stepped closer, his movements neither hurried nor hesitant, and when he reached her, he let a small smile curve his lips. “Hi,” he said, his voice soft, like the rustle of silk. “You seem like someone who loves this Lake.” He dipped his head slightly, a touch of formality in the gesture, before extending his hand. “I’m Saunders. Saunders Napier. May I sit here?”

@Stelle Mims

Little Stelle looked up when she heard the sound of leaves rustling behind her, this made her break out of her little moment and pay attention to her surroundings. When she got up, she let the pebbles fall between her fingers, and hearing that boy's voice, she smiled and stretched out her hand toward him warmly. -Mims... Stelle Mims- she responded with a strong Scottish accent and a smile that exuded happiness -I really couldn't tell you what my favorite place is, it would be wrong to say that, I barely know this place. But I could say that it could become my favorite place, it is beautiful, quiet and above all it reminds me of home - she began to say with some emotion, she talked too much. She liked to talk, even if no one was listening, she enjoyed telling stories.

Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were slightly reddened by the cold; perhaps she shouldn't have started dipping the tips of her fingers in the lake moments before. But now she had to concentrate, they were talking to her, it could be a great opportunity to make friends. She quickly remembered the words of the boy who had not responded -And yes, you can sit down. I really don't like being alone, I think everything feels better next to someone else. It's like if you made cookies and you didn't want to share them or you didn't have anyone to share them with, what's the point? - She said while gently adjusting his clothes, running the palms of his hands over the fabric of the uniform to flatten it.

-Do you come often? It doesn't seem like a very busy place, I like that in part, no one throws garbage and everything stays quiet, the animals live better. Did I tell you that my name is Stelle? - in the middle of all her words she sat down and kept her gaze on him, looking for one of the logos of the houses to know which one he belonged to. She wasn't really interested in him, he seemed nice and she was really excited about making friends. She had another way of seeing the world, she didn't really believe in black and white, she believed that everything was a gray scale, in which she always tried to see the best in each person around her.

-Know? Near my house there is a big lake like this, it is full of ducks, swans and little birds. It's my favorite place in the whole world, my dad took me often before coming here. My father is incredible, he is an engineer, do you know what that is? I still don't completely understand it, but I know it does incredible things- she said excitedly. I really hadn't talked to someone in a while, which made her tend to say too many things or take on related topics and go on about it without explanation.

The crisp winter air painted Saunders’ cheeks (unfortunately, they were still relatively chubby) a faint pink as he stood before the young girl whose name was apparently Stelle Mims. Then, all of a sudden, her enthusiasm hit him like a warm wind. Unexpected, slightly overwhelming, but oddly pleasant... With a pretty thick Scottish accent, and before Saunders could say another word, hers spilt forth like an ebullient tide. The topics covered in her very first sentences to Saunders ranged from her favourite places, her observations about solitude, and also cookies.

"Well, this one’s certainly full of beans," Saunders couldn't help but think, his expression neutral, yet sympathetic. Having listened to the girl's comment on cookies, he raised a single brow. "Cookies? Are we still talking about the lake? Or have we moved on to some metaphor for friendship? Merlin help me, she’s harder to follow than a Chudley Cannons game." Of course, as a much more reserved person than Stelle, he did not utter these words. Instead, “Sharing cookies...” he echoed with a faint smile. “Yeah, I suppose that makes sense.”

The next topic brought the young snake up short. Engineer? Saunders’ mind scrambled for context... "Oh, not another Muggle job... First Brian and his mate's dad who's a 'binman' and now this. At this rate, I’ll have to start keeping a glossary of Muggle professions." He, nevertheless, attempted to grasp the actual meaning of the word. "Engineer… It sounds important. Maybe they enchant things? Or… engineer them? Brilliant deduction, Napier."

"I have no idea what an engineer is, Stelle, sorry," Saunders muttered, "my father... made it his profession to do nothing." He then remembered the moment when Stelle had seemed to notice his house emblem. “Slytherin,” he said lightly, adjusting his tie in a motion his mother would have approved of. The boy continued to listen to the girl, nodding at intervals.

He felt a little embarrassed because, unlike her, he said very little, but Saunders was not one to open himself up easily. "Nature is really wonderful," he finally managed to say, "but it's December. Aren't you afraid of freezing?"

@Stelle Mims

The winter air caressed Stelle's cheeks, but far from intimidating her, the cold seemed to fan the spark that always accompanied her. Her curly blonde hair, framed by a wool cap her mother had knitted for her, shone in the soft December sun as she spoke without pause, moving with the boundless energy of someone who finds excitement in even the smallest things. There was something about Saunders that caught her interest immediately. Perhaps it was his somewhat chubby cheeks, which gave him a friendly air despite his neutral expression; Maybe it was the way he seemed to listen to her, even though he didn't say much, as if he were absorbing every word with discreet attention. Stelle, however, did not stop to analyze it too much, she found it exasperating to see people who analyzed from the way one breathed. The words poured out of her like a torrent; The idea of holding back had never seemed necessary, much less annoying.

—Cookies! — she suddenly exclaimed with emotion, as if the topic were the logical conclusion of some line of thought that existed only in his mind—. Don't you think cookies are like people? Some are crunchy and some are soft, but they all have something special. Well, except those oatmeal ones that don't have even a hint of chocolate or sweet. Those are boring and bland, What do you think?— Stelle was not intimidated by Sauders' endless silences, she had spoken to herself enough times that it no longer bothered her in the slightest. When she mentioned her father and his profession, and noticed the confusion of that unknown boy, she crossed her mind in surprise —Don't you know what an engineer is? From what I understood, he builds things for people to use, like blenders and cars.It's incredible and very intelligent, it helps people with their creations— she said proudly, although she didn't bother to explain further what it meant; not because I didn't know specifically the definition of an engineer. For her, the word had enough weight, loaded with admiration for a man she considered brilliant.

She soon noticed the green and silver emblem on Saunders' robe. "Slytherin?" Stelle thought, with immediate curiosity and without any prejudice to dampen her enthusiasm. She had heard things about the Slytherins, of course, but Saunders did not seem as... calculating as the rumors about that house unknown to the young girl. Maybe he was more reserved, but for Stelle that was not an obstacle; On the contrary, she found him fascinating. She wanted to get to know him before putting a negative attitude toward him around his house —Oh, I love that tie! It is very elegant. I like how it combines with the green of the forest... Although it wouldn't really suit me, I like the yellow much more—

When Saunders finally spoke, his comment about the weather made her laugh. Stelle had that light, musical laugh that seemed to warm even the coldest day. —Freeze me? she repeated, as if the very concept were absurd. No! I like the cold. It's like the air is more alive. And besides, you can always get warm if you move enough, right? — Said the young girl sitting among the pebbles, moving them between her fingers — Being afraid of the cold is like waiting for trees to bloom in the middle of a blizzard.It's kind of silly, don't you think— she added a few seconds later, looking towards the lake. For her, the boy's silence was not a sign of disinterest, but rather an invitation to continue talking, to fill the empty spaces with his inexhaustible energy. After all, wasn't that what winter did? Fill the coldest corners with life with the warmth of the little things: an unexpected chat, a shared laugh, or even a conversation about cookies. —Speaking of cold, don't you think the weather is incredible for some cookies fresh out of the oven and a glass of hot milk?— she asked with palpable excitement in her voice, turning her gaze to him.

@Saunders Napier

@Stelle Mims

The winter air froze Stelle’s cheeks, but she barely noticed, or perhaps she simply chose to ignore it. She delicately picked up a white stone with marbled black details, turning it between her fingers, fascinated by the tiny patterns. "So beautiful" she thought, though the words never made it out because something else, as always, demanded her attention. Something in Saunders’ reserved and calm presence intrigued her deeply, and that was truly unusual for Stelle. It was as if he was the perfect opposite to her explosion of emotions,a personality she could never acquire with her boundless enthusiasm. Saunders, with the way he seemed to carefully analyze each word before letting it escape, his perfectly combed hair, and his pristine, well-arranged uniform; he looked like order itself beside her. Though she wasn’t exactly messy and took care of her appearance, she didn’t seem nearly as perfect. Some of her curls fluttered like butterflies, and her uniform had casual little wrinkles. He was so silent, and she felt she could fill any void with her voice without fear of being rejected. As he spoke, mentioning something about oatmeal cookies and honesty, Stelle tilted her head, intrigued. Her eyes were the same shade as his. Despite their opposite personalities, their eyes were exactly alike. She observed him with those ultramarine blue eyes, so wide and full of curiosity that one might feel they noticed more than they revealed. Despite her youth, Stelle had an innate ability to pick up on what wasn’t said, though she didn’t always understand why. At that moment, she couldn’t stop wondering if there was something more behind Saunders’ measured words.

“Fundamental” Stelle thought, testing the word in her mind. She liked how it sounded, as though it carried an invisible weight. But she didn’t linger on the thought for long; her restless nature was already pushing her toward the next observation.
—Our eyes are the same—. she said suddenly, turning to him with a soft and, strangely, timid smile. Stelle laughed lightly, a laugh that seemed to spread warmth in the cold air. He was probably thinking her ideas were absurd or that she’d lost her mind, but she didn’t mind. In fact, she enjoyed provoking those reactions, even if she didn’t always understand them.

When Saunders mentioned his tie, Stelle couldn’t help but lean forward slightly to examine it more closely, as if she were seeing something entirely new in the green and silver stripes. To her, nothing was just an object; everything had a story, even a simple piece of clothing. —It’s not just a tie. The green and silver are colors that make you think of the night and forests under the moon, don’t they? It’s mysterious and elegant, like you—. she finally said, as if it were an indisputable fact. She looked down at the stone in her hands and held it up, pinching it delicately between her index finger and thumb. —Like this stone. It might just seem like a rock, but I bet if you looked at it long enough, you’d find it beautiful and meaningful—.

Stelle smiled, satisfied that she’d shared a small fragment of her world with him, and carefully tucked the stone into her pocket. When he returned the compliment, mentioning that yellow suited her, she laughed again, this time with a faint blush warming her cheeks already reddened by the cold. —Thank you—. she exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm. —I’m Hufflepuff, by the way—. she added distractedly.

—Yes! I love them, actually. But I like so many things, really, so many things—. she replied with a small laugh, walking alongside Saunders. Stelle, with her extroverted and curious nature, observed the boy with growing interest. She had managed to strike up a genuine conversation with someone who, at first glance, seemed reserved and distant.
—Really?—. she asked, surprised. —I’d love to! I’d join you for the chocolate, but I really can’t have chocolate without my mom—. she replied with a sparkle of excitement and melancholy, not just in her voice but also in her eyes. Her mind buzzed with ideas and questions, eager to learn more about Saunders, his inner world, and his story. The mention of cookies had been an unexpected bridge between them, and the idea of sharing a warm drink in the Great Hall seemed utterly delightful to her.

@Saunders Napier