——mentions. @Fabian Toussaint-Fleischer, Alphonse Toussaint, @Briar Toussaint, @Samuel Sauber, @Isadora Toussaint-Vilaça, @Damien Dragonclaw, @Mikey Forville, @Victoria Lena Jones, @Pericles Dralt, @Lillian McMason
——notes. Feel free to interact and headcanon any professor-student friendship if I haven't written with you yet! Owl if you require a specific dynamic/something that would require discussion or backdating. If you're not a Parselmouth, you won't understand what is being said and only hear hissing coming from Sarai.
——credits. banner by Damien Dragonclaw

Mikey had been buzzing since he'd seen the ad for the petting zoo. Enchanted creatures weren't the sort you heard about in Liverpool—at least, not the sort that ended up in books. He knew all he did from the small illustrations in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and even they seemed a bit too fairy storyish to believe. So actually getting to see them here, living and breathing, made him feel like he'd walked into the middle of a storybook.

The Kneazle kittens had been the first place he'd gone, and he'd smiled at one of them writhing stubbornly around his ankle and refusing to budge. It'd taken a bit of persuasion before he'd been able to relax without treading on any tails, and now he walked between cages, gazing in wonder at the sheer number of the beasts.


@Fabian Toussaint-Fleischer, Alphonse Toussaint, @Briar Toussaint, @Samuel Sauber, @Isadora Toussaint-Vilaça, @Damien Dragonclaw, @, @Victoria Lena Jones, @Pericles Dralt, @Lillian McMason
He slowed where he reached the exhibit of the Runespoors. The snake was larger than he'd anticipated, its three heads sinuous through the blades of grass in a restive kind of motion. Mikey leaned forward closer to the glass, cocking his head to watch each of the three faces. Creepy, but interesting.

And then he heard a hiss cutting coldly through the din of the crowd. Hissing. He was confused at first, swiveling his head in that direction. For an instant, he thought it was the Runespoor itself, until his eyes clarified the presence of a familiar face at the glass. Professor Toussaint.

The recollection of the greenhouse incident with Nyx struck him out of the blue. Her sharp face, the tension of having been caught and what happened after. His gut roiled in a funny mix of guilt and shame even though it had been months. He hadn't laid eyes on her since.

She wasn't talking to him, however. She was talking in a soft tone, words he couldn't understand, the sounds hard and forked, never something he'd never heard before. The Runespoor responded, its body or bodies against the glass, its heads heaving with obvious distress.

Mikey didn't budge, watching the professor to see she wasn't talking to the people around her, she was talking to the snake. He swallowed hard, wide eyes, took a step back, not sure that he should intrude. It was hissing in his ears. In hers, it was definitely a conversation. The realization sent shivers down his skin.

But he raised a hand in a tentative little wave, just in case she might happen to look his way.

Made by the awesome Prat Pass

Interacting with:

Drago followed Damien through the throng of excited teens and adults.
He felt nervous because of the fact that there were so many people. But it didn't really matter to him because Damien was there. He had to admit that he liked the other boy.
And not just like as a friend.
A lot more than that actually.
He just couldn't help noticing the fact that his eyes were a peculiar shade of grey-blue that reminded him of the sky back home just before it rained. Or the way that his light brown hair was fluffy and flopped on his forehead. He didn't know what it was that made him feel this way, but it was a foreign feeling to Drago.
All he knew, was that he definitely like liked Damien and maybe wanted to kiss him. No, not maybe.
Definitely wanted to kiss him.
Damien was talking about how awesome this all was.
Drago couldn't help but blush slightly and nod.
He was wayyyy too nervous to talk.
He was afraid that if he talked, all that would come out would be a squeak.
Just then though, it seemed like Damien had seen something or someone, because he seemed very visibly excited.
He slowly took Drago's hand, as if he was afraid that Drago would pull away. Drago felt his heart stop. Damien had turned to Drago and was talking about meeting one of his teachers or something, but Drago just couldn't follow whatever he was saying. The only thing on his mind was that fact that Damien was holding his hand.
The boy that he liked was holding his hand.
Drago couldn't help but smile. A radiant, heart stopping smile, though he didn't know it. A smile that practically lit up the space they were in.
He held Damien's hand, feeling like he could fly. Or at the very least, float. He followed him through the crowd, no longer feeling nervous of all the people.
Rather, he felt that kind of excited nervous where it felt like butterflies were stuck in the pit of his stomach.
But that didn't matter now since they were approaching someone, presumably the teacher.

☞ Speaking
☞ Thoughts
☞ Narration
Current Outfit:

Reducio

Black t-shirt, black, ripped faded jeans, black Converse smudged with ink

♕- Afternoon of Aug. 14th, 2025 | Petting Zoo, London Quidditch Stadium -♕

Alphonse had been enjoying the togetherness of his family's outing thus far.

Despite his brother Briar being ever the brooding type, it appeared as though both of the sons subliminally set aside their turmoil on account of their mother's condition. The eldest son happily played along to maintain the peace, though Alphonse had longed for the day Briar would forgive him for getting expelled from Castelobruxo. Only time would tell.

Planting himself at his mother's side, the bulwark's gaze followed the red-hued Runespoor. As it proceeded to slither closer to the enchanted glass, a hint of fascination spread across his countenance. His fingers absentmindedly pressed against the glass as Alphonse's dark gaze studied the creature and its enclosure's familiar landscape. A pang of longing settled over the boy as he recalled many occasions when the family vacationed and visited distant relatives in West Africa—before the Toussaint boy's schooling, when life was less of a tangled mess.

His pessimistic mind would drift away from the growing ache in his chest once a hissing sound met his ears—parseltongue. The language of the serpent once frightened the former-Wampus as a child, but now it was simply just another language Alphonse didn't quite understand, and yet respected all the same. Hearing it had become second nature growing up with Badriyah-Abuk as a steadfast presence in his pubescent life since birth. But, upon closer observation, his mother wasn't talking to her serpentine familiar—Sarai was communicating with the Runespoor.

"Kisa l ap di, maman?" Alphonse questioned, casting a puzzled glance over at her amused smile, "Yon bagay komik?" "What's it saying, mom? Something funny?"

Before allowing his mother an opportunity to reply, the former-wampus noticed a few students approaching the Runespoor exhibit. All seemed familiar with Sarai, causing the teenage boy to nudge his mother's side to get her attention.

Sarai abruptly ended her conversation with the Runespoor's many heads and glanced over with a pleasant but fatigued smile. First, the woman waved back to Mikey before setting her gunmetal blue gaze upon Damien and his friend (Drago).

"Damien! It's so good to see you, mijo. And your friend, a pleasure," Sarai greeted them with a smile, placing a hand on her lower back as she adjusted her posture to relieve the building tension, "I don't think you've met my sons yet." Pointing out Briar, who had walked off to observe other exhibits, she continued: "That's Briar, he attends Castelobruxo-" then gently pushed Alphonse forward, "-This is my other son, Alphonse. He'll be attending Hogwarts next term."

Damien—Alphonse locked the name and face to memory, then suddenly the greatest idea breached his mind. Instead of responding in English, the eldest Toussaint boy had other plans.

"Damien? Mwen konnen yon Damien. Li dwe m lajan. Men, piske Damien sa a pa la, w ap gen pou peye l." He chuckled, then suddenly switched from his native Kreyol to fluent Portuguese and Spanish, "Nao, nao. So estou te dando merda. A menos que voce queira me dar seu dinheiro. Quem sou eu para dizer nao?" "Damien? I know a Damien. He owes me money. But since that Damien isn't here, you'll have to pay me instead. No, no. I'm just givin you shit. Unless you want to give me your money. Who am I to say no?"

Feeling the daggers Sarai shot his way, Alphonse offered a laugh and dismissive wave before performing a rapid handshake with Damien—one only the Toussaint boy was actually familiar with.

"Maman, solo estoy bromeando. Este tonto y yo nos conocemos desde hace mucho tiempo, no?" Alphonse lied smoothly, dry amusement and challenge in his tone."Mama, I'm just teasin. Me and this goober go way back, don't we?"

——mentions. interacting with @Isadora Toussaint-Vilaça, @Mikey Forville, @Damien Dragonclaw & @Drago Thanatos-Kholodov
——notes. @Samuel Sauber, @Victoria Lena Jones, @Pericles Dralt, @Briar Toussaint, & @Lillian McMason

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	Although Pericles threw himself into his coordinator duties, he inevitably ran out of tasks. As the animagi flew from one station to the next, his interactions with each handler went much the same: the eagle arrived, asked if they were short on supplies, only to be told time and again that he ought to "enjoy his summer with the others". Pericles seemingly struggled with the concept. He preferred to preoccupy himself, but relented as the day dragged on. He roamed through the granian stables to admire them up-close, spent an hour sprawled out in the kneazle cat cafe, sat at the edge of the gnome-guarding griffon's nest, and rolled melons into the mouths of hungry abraxans. So enamoring were these interactions that eventually, they put his mind at ease better than a day of busywork could have. Pear would later regard the morning of August fourteenth as the calm before the storm. As a small crowd gathered alongside the runespoor's tank, a white-bellied sea-eagle alighted a nearby booth, perching on the flagpole at its peak. A golden eye swiveled in its socket, darting between the faces present before honing on the beast beyond the glass. The three-headed serpent had come to coil in a heap before Hogwarts' own Herbology Professor. Although unable to see beyond the enchanted scenery, it flicked its tongue towards those airholes at the top of its tank, hissing rhythmically. It seemed evident an exchange was taking place, though Pericles couldn't have imagined what the runespoor wanted to talk about. @Sarai Toussaint-Fleischer would be the one to divine that. While the left head bartered with her to release them, the right went on to snark and argue, pointing out that they had everything they needed to survive. The middle head wistfully claimed that the one thing they lacked was freedom, and with it the chance to ever eat a small human, or at least a young antelope. A designated critic, the right head belittled their schemes and tastes with annoyance. Judging by the old scars ringing its throat like an ugly necklace, one or both of its twins had attempted to silence these critiques in the past. Parseltongue wasn't the sort of thing Pear experienced often. Intrigued, and hoping to glean context clues from those present, he launched from the flagpole and swooped towards the tank. The pale eagle perched on a nearby bench back, near enough to listen without landing in the thick of the crowd.
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