25 Mar 2025, 10:32
Both Esteemed Outcasts of Society
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𝙸𝚂𝚂𝚄𝙴 №. 001 |
?????????????????? | 𝑸𝑼𝑶𝑻𝑰𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑵????????𝑸𝑼𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑺 |
???? | 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝙳𝙰𝙸𝙻𝚈 𝙴𝙳𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 |
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𝙵𝙴𝙱𝚁𝚄𝙰𝚁𝚈 16𝚃𝙷, 𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝙸𝚂𝚂𝚄𝙴 |
𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 |
𝙼𝙰𝙶𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻 𝙼𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙴, 𝙳𝙸𝙰𝙶𝙾𝙽 𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝚈 |
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𝙰 𝙲𝚄𝚁𝚂𝙴𝙳 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙴𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙴𝚁
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A Sunday morning in the crowded Diagon Alley. One would expect that students boarding in Hogwarts meant this particular alley would be deserted and desolated; shops would not be as crowded as they are right at this moment. Aurelia might also have underestimated how big the Wizarding World really is—how it is not only a community but a cluster of people who also lived amongst Muggles, certainly juggling around the ribbon that separates both worlds. The ruffles of the hem of the wizarding robes swayed slightly as soon as a gentle wind breezed past them, a good number of wizards clutching their hats to prevent it being breezed away. The young badger observed the scene with the keenest of eyes, her eyebrows knitted together as she assessed every detail she would encounter and conjured reasons why it was so. Cordelia, her mother... is definitely around these parts. They were separated because of a large band streaming in order to perform their good old usual Sunday music, with acclaimed singers who definitely have to choose another job for a living as this path might not be destined for them, and of course, instrument players. The crowd cheered and clapped; one threw a large bucket of galleons too in the cobbled streets. A brawl broke out when someone was hit in the eye, or how someone was fooled into thinking that they were definitely getting gold, which was only from leprechauns' variety. Not that Aurelia admits that the person who endured 16 hours of labour was a responsible and competent parent, but they have been separated for 24 minutes now, and she could still not see the blonde head of her mother in the crowd. Which was stretching it, as she would definitely stand out. They have no means of communication, as magic-surged parts of the location always interfere and mess up electric devices. Additionally, she does not use hers any more, as being a full-time student in Hogwarts, where people do anything in order to be entertained, she has better things to do than stare down on cellular phones and scroll as though a robot. Scanning the vicinity with her deep brown eyes, she searched for a certain blonde head, wearing evident Muggle clothes, a suit and a fitted long skirt that stretched to her knee, with a slit on the side too. This young woman cannot be caught lacking, as conceiving Aurelia at 16 and today, being 27, did not stop her from wearing fashionable clothes for her work. She always stands out; her timeless beauty turns heads, wizards and muggles alike. "Where is she?" Wondered Aurelia aloud, an irritable tone in her voice as her curly head swivelled left and right, tiptoeing with her Mary Janes in order to see better. If her mother strayed in Florean Fortescue's for another batch of variety ice cream—in which she would not put past her as her mother has a remarkable sweet tooth—then it would be logical to visit the aforementioned shop again. Rolling her deep brown eyes in frustration, she slowly ambulated down the cobbled path. The young badger figured that if the train left without her, Cordelia would not even receive a single piece of her parchment for the whole semester. Tucking the rebellious curls behind her ears, her senses heightened as she looked around for her mother, who was probably impulsively shopping. A series of laughter snatched her attention as it rung through the crowded and cramped space of Diagon Alley. Kids that, of course, run around and are so joyous that the raucous sounds sounded hysterical to her. "Get it, get it!" Urged by the other kid, a boy picked up a literal dungbomb from a box that another kid carries. Her face crumpled, as other students in Hogwarts loved using this pranking item in the hallways, the action blocking almost all shortcuts to get to class. A terrible setback, especially when one rushes, clutching parchments as assignments, heavily relying on bridging through portraits, and other students smudge dungbombs on it. Bearing the intentions of letting them have their fun, she attempted to walk away. But when the boy threw the dungbomb he picked up earlier, aiming for the innocent black cat quietly nibbling on something just in front of a shop—that is when she stopped. Fingers twitching, her automatic response had been to hex the cruel kids if it would not be for underage magic outside of school, which is already a violation. The black cat—perhaps it knew that it was being targeted—hopped on a crate to avoid being hit. Disappointed by the poor aim, all three kids picked their own dungbombs as though to repeat and hit the cat square this time. Before she could even jump out and snatch the boxes from them, although disgusting, the shop owner, she figured, the owner of Magical Menagerie, began to bellow to the kids for attempting to hurt a little, poor soul. "Cor blimey, get on wiv it! These bleedin' kids ain't got nuffink better to do than bug us—git back 'ome!" Shooed the shop owner, doing a gesture with his hands, as though brushing them away. Why is it looking at me like that? With a furrowed brow, Aurelia observed the black cat that is sitting right on top of the crate just in front of the Magical Menagerie's shop window. It is sitting with evident grace and elegance, as though the recent events that unfolded, which are meant to hurt, are nothing worth mentioning in particular. Its round, emerald eyes held inexplicable sentience, a sort that one would know is holding a lot of secrets; the universe, perhaps. As if hypnotised with this certain allure, the young badger stepped forward and approached the feline, black like a void, her eyes inquisitive, to ask what did it know? And of course, she is also aware it will never answer, it will never provide a satisfying answer. Eye to eye, deep brown on emerald. She absent-mindedly reached for its ears before scratching it tenderly. The black cat mewled and purred, leaning to her warm touch. "‘E clearly fancies you, love. No doubt about it, innit?" said the old shopkeeper of Magical Menagerie, watching the young Hufflepuff witch now scratch the feline's chin. "This moggy’s been 'ere fer six months, yeah. ‘E’s got this habit of nickin’ food from the neighbours, which ain't too popular, right? I always give 'im a bite, just to stop the fuss. But ‘is presence gets the nippers goin’, they ain't keen on 'im, no way. You best take 'im ‘ome, ‘e deserves a new chance at life that’ll sort 'im out." Something tugged at her heart, the heartstrings are aware of the familiarity and pity she inherently felt. The black feline must have understood the implication, the slits of his irises have become a little rounded as though begging. Letting out a sigh, she moved her hands away. Before she could respond, a costumer entered the shop, which needs to be automatically assisted. The shopkeeper inevitably excused himself. The raven-haired badger turned to the cat instead. "I cannot possibly provide for you, I could not even buy all the books I want," she started, letting out another sigh. She is not exactly living with riches, who sleeps on a pot of gold and utilises galleons to warm herself as though a blanket. Living in Croydon does not mean they could afford not working; the aforementioned town is only historical and therefore does not prove anything. Navigating life with only one working parent who needed to slave away most of the day almost does not cut it. Reminded of working parents, her mother is roaming around Diagon Alley, and they are separated. Giving the feline with a last nice pat, she moved away from the crate to search for her. The area is small but the fact that she cannot be bothered to be found irritated her the most. On the way to Florean Fortescue's, Aurelia knew she was being followed. Of course, by a certain feline which was just rescued by the shopkeeper earlier. Mews and meows could be heard behind her as her Mary Janes made clicking sounds against the cobblestone path in her every step. "You became my stalker all of a sudden—what is so important that you are screaming up at me as though I massacred the entirety of your family?" asked Aurelia irritably, now turning, her long curls whipping by the sudden movement. The black cat meowed loudly as she crouched down, facing him directly. After a long minute of a stare-off, Aurelia emitted a resigned sigh before picking up the cat. "You better help me find my Mum, who probably is distracted of ice creams as of the moment."
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@Aurelia Valentine |
𝙿𝙰𝚈 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝙴𝙳𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽! |
[𝙿𝙴𝚃] |
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memento mori; memento vivere
1, 466 wc
1, 466 wc
Last edited by Aurelia Valentine on 2 Apr 2025, 12:00, edited 1 time in total.
[ the golden girl; the harshness of such warm light ]
[ aurelia valentine, the golden girl ] † [ lucien de montfort, the deranged artist ]
Visit Lourine's SMITTEN shop for handmade pfps with DISCOUNT—FREE for AI pfp users.
[ aurelia valentine, the golden girl ] † [ lucien de montfort, the deranged artist ]
Visit Lourine's SMITTEN shop for handmade pfps with DISCOUNT—FREE for AI pfp users.
7 Apr 2025, 11:03
Both Esteemed Outcasts of Society
Pet Granted
Look after Stalker well.
PC: Aaron Jones | iNPC: Madeleine Nakamura | Former staff account: Marcus Iwasaki
2nd Gen PC: Idalia della Torre
Best way to contact me? Discord or owl Idalia