Den of Lions
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| x | 𝚂𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝟸, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟻 | 𝙳𝙴𝙽 𝙾𝙵 𝙻𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 |
𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙸𝚂𝙷 | 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙷 | 𝙱𝚂𝙻 |
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| xx | 𝔚hile no longer Prefect nor captain of any sports team, Evelynn had entered the final year of her wizarding education on the tails of a successfully executed summer camp with the desire to make the most of what remained to her. Her work on the Headliner would continue as it had--although there seemed to be some clear miscommunications and erroneous appointments that would need to be sorted out before the paper really got of the ground this semester. Likewise, she had no plans of departing from the duelling team despite having had to say her farewells to the senior teammates with whom she had developed quite the team partnership over the years. Somehow, though, that didn't seem quite enough. She could do more. With the experiences she had collected--many quite traumatic--she felt she ought to do more. Before too long, she would be disembarking from these halls to step foot in the real world, to find her own career path and carve something of a life for herself. But it had been here among these stone walls that she had first been inoculated with an unwanted, but much needed dose of reality. During those times, she had been alone and afraid, without a friendly and knowledgeable face to whom to turn in times of doubt. If there was something she could do to help others avoid the rather perilous misadventures to which she had been exposed, she felt she owed it to the next generation to do so. And so she had found herself volunteering to be paired with any number of bright-eyed, hopeful students to help ease their transition into life at Hogwarts. The Great Hall buzzed with activity as she pushed past the grand oaken doors. Succulent aromas wafted towards her--fresh eggs, braised ham, fried black pudding, honey and jams, freshly steeped tea... Her stomach growled, mouth watering with anticipation. Breakfast standards had increased somewhat ever since she had moved in with the Harpers, but there was still no competing with the vast spreads of food that the Hogwarts elves always managed to prepare. The first morning back after the summer holidays always seemed to impress the most, sometimes even moreso than the holidays. Perhaps it was merely because it had been so long since she had been presented with such a feast. Heels clicked pointedly upon the stone floor as she traversed the open hall, slate gray eyes panning the interior for new and familiar faces alike. Habit drew her eye towards the Ravenclaw table, stomach churning uncomfortably even as hope bubbled at her core with any sight of silvered hair. On any other day, she might have veered in that direction, abandoning her own houses' table in favour of the Eagles'. Between Aly, Dealla, Pericles, and her own sister, Winnie, all her closest friends and family seemed to be collected beneath that blue and bronze standard. It was a shame, really, that she herself had not been sorted into Ravenclaw. She often wondered just how differently her earlier years might have proven had the sorting hat not called her to the Lion's Den instead. This morning, however, was not about her own socialization, but that of another. Ever keen eyed, a certain petite redhead quickly made themselves apparent in the crowd of students at the Lions' table. The sorting ceremony had historically been of particular interest to the senior lioness. The only difference this year was that she hadn't had to keep notes of all the new students. Where once she had kept a detailed journal of names, appearances, mannerisms, reactions, and to which houses each new first year had been sorted, she had come to find that such detailed profiling was not more troublesome than it was worth. Especially when she could quite easily recall such details with something as simple as a memory potion or extracting a thought for later review. No, instead she had simply observed at the time, grey eyes fixed upon the fresh faces like a predator assessing young fawns in Spring. It was easy, then, for her to find to whom she had been assigned. The clack of her heels heralded her approach, black freshly-pressed robes whispering against wood and stone as she wove her way deftly between the benches towards her quarry. Her gaze never left the profile of the young girl, appraising the new student's behaviour even now before introductions had been made. When she was near enough that she was certain her words would be heard above the surrounding din of excited conversation and jovial feasting, Evelynn canted her head, eyes lidded, and spoke, "Roslyn Holyoak." It wasn't a question so much as a verbal affirmation that she had found her mentee. She did not request permission before sliding smoothly into a space that opened up beside the girl as a couple other juniors shuffled over unprompted to make room for the seventh year. "My name is Evelynn Decipio." Although she touched her elbow to the table's edge, the lioness did not lean her weight upon it. Rather, she poised, fingers dangling with lax wrists, her eyes unwavering as they roamed the younger girl's face and features as though committing them to memory. "Welcome to Hogwarts." The faintest curl at the corners of her mouth hinted at what might have been a smile. "I have been assigned to be your mentor, to help you as you transition into life at here at Hogwarts. For many, this is their first time away from home and family for any extended period of time, and for others, this is an entirely new world with a completely novel set of rules and expectations. Whatever your background, my role is to assist you to find your footing and orient you to these new surroundings." She paused then, taking the opportunity to reach across for a bowl that contained a variety of fresh fruits. A moment later and a raspberry disappeared between rose-stained lips. "You should consider yourself fortunate, really. Such a program was not offered when I first crossed the threshold of this castle. I would encourage you to take advantage of the opportunity to have an experienced senior student so readily available to you." @Roslyn Mae Holyoak |
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Last edited by Evelynn Decipio on 18 Nov 2025, 03:03, edited 2 times in total.
Den of Lions
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 x x x  x x x x x x x x x | Roslyn had to scramble getting out of bed that morning, sleeping late due to falling asleep late partially because of the gryffindor party that was held that evening and also writing overjoyed to all her family, she was another Holyoak in gryffindor, she always knew she would be one-because her father was one. By the time Roslyn did wake up her roommates were already at breakfast. Quickly, she brushed through her hair and putting it up in a messy french braid and put on a white button up blouse, a gray knee-length skirt and one of her new school robes, it was then she realized that she hadn't tied her tie properly, so she quickly knotted it-quite messily for her taste-and ran down to the great hall before she missed breakfast. Taking a moment after skidding into the great halls she took a moment to appreciate the grandeur of it all. She was at Hogwarts, the moment she has been waiting for most of her childhood. She grinned and looked at the enchanted sky, amazed at the beauty, and the scent of the wonderful food, mouth watering black pudding, and bread that smelled like her Grandma's house in France. She took an open seat next to some other first years. She was so excited to just be here. Roslyn started to eat before a sharp-looking seventh-year sat down next to her. "My name is Evelyn Decipio," She said, matter of factly. Roslyn stared up at her, raising an eyebrow. "I have been assigned to be your mentor, to help you as you transition into life here at Hogwarts. For many, this is their first time away from home and family for any extended period of time, and for others, this is an entirely new world with a completely novel set of rules and expectations. Whatever your background, my role is to assist you to find your footing and orient you to these new surroundings." She seemed-a bit too much like her older brother Edward for Roslyn's taste. A sort of beauty although uptight, an air of elegance and poise that Roslyn herself couldn't even attempt to copy, even if she wanted to, no matter how much her mother had tried to teach her. She was too wild, too much like her father to do so. The older girl-Evelyn stole a raspberry before speaking again. "You should consider yourself fortunate, really. Such a program was not offered when I first crossed the threshold of this castle. I would encourage you to take advantage of the opportunity to have an experienced senior student so readily available to you." Roslyn just ate her bread, and eyed her. "Oh. There isn't any need, I can handle myself just fine, thank you." Is what Roslyn wanted to say, but granted she did get lost on the moving staircase on the way to breakfast-but that was just because she was rushing. Roslyn said, negotiating with herself. "Really? How kind of you," Roslyn gave the red-head a small smile sticking her hand out to shake it out of politeness. | x x x x x x x x x x x x |
~an old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind~
Den of Lions
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| x | 𝚂𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝟸, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟻 | 𝙳𝙴𝙽 𝙾𝙵 𝙻𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 |
𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙸𝚂𝙷 | 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙷 | 𝙱𝚂𝙻 |
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| xx | 𝔊uarded uncertainty seemed to peer up at Evelynn as she greeted the junior pupil and explained the reason for her interjection. Absent was the wide-eyed sort of curiosity or star-struck wonder that often accompanied younger students whenever a senior deigned to address them. Even anxious fear would have been an appropriate and expected response. But no. Instead, the younger girl merely lofted a brow initially, carrying on with her breakfast as though Evelynn was little more than a passing nuisance to be tolerated. Did this, perhaps, suggest a familiarity with enduring lectures? A lofted brow was mirrored back at the child, slate eyes fixed upon the subtleties of her expression as though attempting to read the thoughts guarded behind her doe-brown eyes. Credit would be given when rather than dismissive attitude, however, the younger girl elected to offer a smile and extend a hand. Evelynn couldn't be certain of the genuineness of either action or word. While polite enough, it struck her as just a bit too polite—clipped in such a way to avoid addressing any of the substance that had been presented to her, a provision of niceties to move past the interaction in as painless a way as possible. Or perhaps the lioness was reading too much into it. Nevertheless, she returned the smile and took the hand, offering a firm grasp. In that moment, Roslyn might notice a plethora of pale scarring on each of Evelynn's fingers, increasing in density towards the nails. Furthermore, despite her prim and proper appearance, Roslyn may also notice that Evelynn did not maintain her nails after any sort of fashion, but rather kept them short and tidy and without polish. "Well..?" Evelynn queried, withdrawing her hand once it was released to rest upon the other only after gesturing to the breakfast spread upon the table and the Great Hall at large. "Does it live up to your expectation? How are you feeling about starting class? Which chapters of your texts most captivated you over the summer?" @Roslyn Mae Holyoak |
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x x x x x x x x x x x x | As soon as Evelynn had let go of her hand, Roslyn was already mid-bite of her toast as the upperclassman asked her a few, irritating questions. Although most questions would be irritating if you snuck one-to many firewhiskeys the previous night while the upperclassmen were all too busy to notice. She was especially glad that Edward was in Ravenclaw, he would've had her for it. Luckily her other brothers and sisters didn't seem to notice. Quickly, she swallowed her food and wiped a napkin on her face. All cleaned up. "Oh it's fine and all, but my heid's mince, but I'm sure I'll get used to everything soon enough," Roslyn replied, finishing with a small smile. "Can't be that confusing, can it?" The girl certainly was something. Roslyn noticed the scars on Evelyn's hands, thin, and white, as if they had been shredded, but she was used to scars thanks to her father's many, and thought it best not to comment on them. Otherwise they were clean, with clear polish, Roslyn's chipped, dusty rose-colored nail polish, her own hands were callous and had a few scraps and scratches from what she called, adventuring. Roslyn worried that because she looked messy-from her falling out braid, to her hastily done up tie, even down to her miss-match socks, Evelynn must've thought that she was some sort of riff-raff, and thought that Evelynn pitied her. The thought horrified her. She straightened up and looked back at the upperclassman with a soft smile, not showing her nerves in the least. Roslyn was good at that. Not showing unless she wanted to. She just kept a raised brow on, and her lip quirked and curled upwards. "Most of my siblings are all in Gryffindor as well, so it's nice to have some sort of familiarity," . | x x x x x x x x x x x x |
~an old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind~
Den of Lions
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| x | 𝚂𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝟸, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟻 | 𝙳𝙴𝙽 𝙾𝙵 𝙻𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 |
𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙸𝚂𝙷 | 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙷 | 𝙱𝚂𝙻 |
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| xx | 𝔉or somebody so very new to the school, the girl did seem awfully aloof, Evelynn had to reflect again. Had she not known any better, Evelynn might have thought this to be any regular day midway through the year rather than the very first morning after arrival. This general disinterest in the awe of the great hall or the fact that someone six years her senior was addressing her only served to concrete the developing notion that the girl likely didn't hail from the muggle world. Still, even just pretending to be interested in what the senior student had to say would have been appreciated at this point. Well...either fortune would find her favourable, or life would be delivering hard lessons. It mattered little to the lioness in the end. "I suppose that depends on how well you have prepared for your classes over the summer," Evelynn replied calmly, watching how the younger girl's eyes strayed to the lioness's hands and lingered there. There had been a time once when self-consciousness and a desire to avoid questions had led to the regular wearing of handwraps or gloves to hide the scarring. And sometimes, during instances when Evelynn found herself as a patient in the hospital wing after a particularly brutal sport's match or unanticipated confrontation with some magical creature or crone, that the scars would disappear for a time. But they always seemed to return eventually, gradually growing to be as part of identity as the vibrantly auburn curls pinned carefully up at the back of her head. Whether a stranger chose to comment on them or not could tell Evelynn something about their character. In this instance, silence was all that was provided in either direction. So instead, her gaze followed back to the little crumbs that rained from the toast upon which the girl so readily feasted. "Perhaps it will not be confusing for you at all. But—" She shrugged a sculpted brow. "—I would not be so certain of that. The lessons have a way of confounding even the most clever of witches eventually. Moreover, it is one thing to learn the theory within the safety of a classroom. It is quite another to apply those principles under pressure in the heat of conflict when your or another's life is in danger." Under normal circumstances, perhaps she wouldn't have been quite so keen to so freely allude to the dangers of the school to one who had only just crossed its threshold, but displays of arrogant dismissal tended to force her hand otherwise. Besides, she was curious... Given her history of profiling students and attempting to discern who was and who was not a half-breed or potential threat, very few students escaped Evelynn's scrutiny. Having previously held positions of Gryffindor Prefect as well as captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team among others, even fewer Gryffindors avoided her notice and study. Roslyn had mentioned that her siblings were fellow lions, confirming that the Holyoak surname was more than mere coincidence and that the girl did indeed hail from a wizarding household. It was reasonable to believe that Evelynn would have at least some familiarity with Roslyn's siblings. They might even have had some level of knowledge of Evelynn. But how much had they shared with Roslyn? Had they told her of the threats that had resided in the castle over the years? Had they told her of the hag scandals or the recent turn over of all of the school administration? Surely she would have heard about the bombings last year or the poisoning attack from years prior considering those had been well-published in the Daily Prophet. But then again... perhaps her family had wanted to shield her from such tragedies considering her young age at the time they had transpired. "It is certainly a comforting feeling to have some level of familiarity in a new environment, I quite agree. And quite advantageous to have those to whom you might turn for assistance when needed or during times of doubt. I hope your family proves to be an invaluable asset to you. Not everyone can count themselves so fortunate. But I do find myself wondering...What have your siblings shared with you about Hogwarts?" The cadence of her speech was almost melodic, lilting against the din of the surrounding hall. She lifted a hand to rest gently curled knuckles along the underside of her jaw and continued to study the young witch, noticing the subtle straightening to the girl's posture. "What rumours have you heard upon which I might be able to help shed light? Or would you simply rather I left you in peace to complete your meal and allow you to come to me should ever you require of anything?" @Roslyn Mae Holyoak |
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