Purely Ignorant
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Perhaps it was the rather solitary life that Ebony had led before Hogwarts, but she had come to realise that she really didn't know much about Muggle-borns -- or muggles in general, so to speak. Muggle Studies was undoubtedly beyond her realm of expertise; she stuck to the classics, like Divination and Ancient Runes. As a pureblood herself, she had naturally grown up with close to zero interaction with Muggles. That, in addition to how she had spent most of her childhood in the vicinity of her household (maybe with a 500 meter radius at most), ensured that her knowledge on the topic was far from profound. Had she ever bothered to enrich herself with said knowledge? Not particularly. In her view, Muggles and Muggle-borns were far from relevant. They were just... there. And the people she had met before who perhaps were in fact Muggle-borns? It really didn't matter, and she didn't care enough to find out. "What's your blood status" was a rather atypical greeting, in her humble opinion. But perhaps it was indeed something you would ask in a daily conversation; she had no idea, given her already virtually non-existent social skills.
As she sat herself down in the library, her favourite place (it was more the second or third favourite) she had begun flipping through cover after cover of Charms books, having been assigned a four feet long essay. But of course, after the sheer volume of knowledge she had consumed, the book titles began to blend as her eyes lost focus, and so did the information within the books. It certainly didn't help that it was late afternoon -- it was that time when everybody was drowsy and simply craved a mug of Butterbeer. And on top of that, Ebony was more of an early bird; she would often crawl out of bed in the waking hours of dawn to finish the pile of schoolwork that just seemed to multiply exponentially day by day. And so, somehow, a couple Astronomy books were added to the pile of Charms books, and Muggle Studies books appeared in the mix as well after some time as she only grew more dreary by the minute.
The sun had already decided to retire back into its bed when the Ravenclaw reached the concluding remarks of her essay. It was then, however, that an excerpt from one of the many books that lay open on the table caught her eye as she was skimming its pages. Her blurring eyes that threatened to pull themselves shut every five seconds did not allow her to comprehend the full message in which the excerpt was conveying, but she did catch the gist of it. It was something about Muggle-borns and how they came to be. "Muggle-borns aren't real wizards -- real wizards are born wizards..." she mused aloud ignorantly before trailing off, lost in her own thoughts and somewhat thinking about how to end her essay. Currently half brain-dead and having never really been an expert with social cues or norms, it didn't seem to occur to her that her words might appear to be slightly offensive to those around her.
Last edited by Ebony Vetra on 10 Jan 2026, 03:43, edited 1 time in total.
| iNPC: Luuk Tjin-A-Wing | sta 7 | eva 12 | str 15 | wis 9 | arc 8 | acc 15 𝐓𝐏 • 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 • 𝐨𝐛𝐧𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 • 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 • 𝐄𝐌 |
Purely Ignorant
banner by Esme Hestridge
Interacting with: @Ebony Vetra
Experience proved time and time again that Nico was simply unable to study properly in their own dormitory, or at least such anomalies were few and far between. If it happened, it was when they were falling behind and decided to stay up way past curfew, doing extra reading by candlelight. For that reason, they fairly quickly familiarized themselves with both the study room and the library; being surrounded by others also engrossed in their own schoolwork slightly remedied Nico’s absent-minded nature. The library grew on them especially, as it had books much more enticing than the muggle ones they were used to, so they ended up frequenting it often.
It was a particularly lazy day, but they decided to visit the place nonetheless, planning to pick out a couple of interesting tomes to kill some time. Upon stepping through the door, it became clear they were in the minority - most desks were occupied by students of all years slouched over lengths of parchment. Some were frantically waving their quills, motivated by close deadlines, while others were drowsily following the endless lines in their textbooks.
Unwilling to disturb their hard working upperclassmen, Nico swiftly made their way to the back. They managed to find a fairly secluded area with possibly the last empty table, right next to a window so the unavoidable dust was clearly illuminated by the rays of the setting sun. Their only neighbour was an older brunette, her own area fully covered with books. They considered greeting her, but ultimately decided it’s best to not interrupt her focus.
Time passed and the library began slowly emptying, students now having to rely on lamps instead of natural light. Nico was now immersed in a book related to performing arts, listing the most flashy spells designed to amaze. As they were about to turn the page however, a quiet and sleepy voice came from the side. "Muggle-borns aren't real wizards -- real wizards are born wizards..."
Their eyes immediately shot towards the girl, the words catching them by such surprise they weren’t sure how to process them. They heard some mentions of blood statuses and whatnot, but they never expected to experience such comments. Somehow, they felt a little stab in their heart - they looked down at the magic books they were just analysing. What did she mean by that? They learned the same spells as everyone else, they knew just as much as those “pure bloods” or whatever. Did them getting high grades in Charms and studying additional content not matter just because of their parents?
The stab they felt wasn’t agonizing, but it bothered them enough to wish to disturb the girl. They loudly cleared their throat, hoping to get her attention. “Excuse me- I’m actually a muggle-born. And I’m pretty sure I’m a real wizard as I’m, you know, here,” they said, hoping to come off as stern. Then, an idea popped in their mind - if the young witch wanted proof, Nico was happy to provide. They raised up their wand and pointed it towards her face. They muttered something and a stream of bubbles launched from its tip, popping against her skin. It was perhaps a bit more than they intended, but they still threw the girl a grin. “I think that’s real, wouldn’t you agree?”
wc: 554
notes: also apologies for the delay </3
. ‧͙⁺ . *･༓☾ . ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁. ☽༓･* . ⁺‧͙ .
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Last edited by Nico Dawson on 17 Jan 2026, 15:09, edited 1 time in total.
ability: charmer
sta 3 eva 9 str 3 wis 6 arc 6 acc 8
Purely Ignorant
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She turned around drowsily to blink sleepily at the individual who cleared their throat. “Excuse me- I’m actually a muggle-born," she heard them proclaim rather seriously, and then a stream of mumble-jumble about being a real wizard and all (she tuned half of it out, to be honest). Ebony blinked rather rapidly a few times and nodded somewhat ineptly, unsure of how they wanted her to reply. She found herself at the usual crossroads of pondering what to say next in a period of awkward silence, only it was in this instance exacerbated by her fatigued mind.
Before she could arrive at such a conclusion, however, she found a wand shoved inches in front of her face. A flurry of bubbles then appeared to obscure her vision, some of them popping against her face and prompting an uncomfortable, tingling sensation. It seemed the day would end with her gaining a newfound dislike for bubbles. Ebony waved them away, irritated, flapping her arms in a rather primitive manner and glaring lividly at the perpetrator. Her visage undoubtedly looked horrendous with such an expression, enhanced only by her dark under-eyes. Upon inspecting the robes of the individual in front of her in more detail, it came to her attention that they were a Gryffindor. Well, of course -- only a Gryffindor would be oh so brave enough to cast a spell straight into her face. What enraged her more was when they smiled. Smiled. “I think that’s real, wouldn’t you agree?” they quipped. Clearly, the Gryffindor was trying to prove a point and thought they had proved it. As a Ravenclaw, there was nothing she detested more than being proven wrong.
What would have normally been a witty remark, a rebuttal or perhaps even a spell of her own was replaced by aggressiveness. She forcefully knocked the Gryffindor's wand-wielding hand aside. "For Merlin's sake, watch where you're putting that thing, considering you muggle-borns have no idea what you're doing. You almost poked my eye out," she snapped. Perhaps it was because she was on the verge of dozing off. Or perhaps it was because she knew she was wrong; this was, after all, a realm in which she had close to zero knowledge. Perhaps muggle-borns were real wizards -- Ebony wasn't going to concede so easily, though, was she?
Either way, she could concern herself with this the next day, after she gets a very, very long sleep. She stood up to leave, but the muggle-born was conveniently stationed in front of her, blocking her path towards the bed that was waiting for her. Now, was Ebony an inherently "mean" individual? She didn't think so. But she could be quite... insistent on achieving her aims -- and that aim was going to bed. And perhaps it was that aim that pushed her to say what she was to say next -- to say something that she was fully aware was wrong.
"Get out of my way, Mudblood."
Enraged? Yes, she was enraged. She was enraged by it all -- the assignments; the lack of sleep; the muggle-born; the bubbles; knowing she was wrong...
Her hands shot out impulsively and she attempted to shove the muggle-born aside. Being a beater, she didn't lack strength in any way. This shove, however, perhaps interfered with by fatigue, was far from strong. Weak, one might even say. The idea of not even being able to push a muggle-born over was absolutely unfathomable... and so she reached forward to try again.
| iNPC: Luuk Tjin-A-Wing | sta 7 | eva 12 | str 15 | wis 9 | arc 8 | acc 15 𝐓𝐏 • 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 • 𝐨𝐛𝐧𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 • 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 • 𝐄𝐌 |
Purely Ignorant
banner by Esme Hestridge
Interacting with: @Ebony Vetra
For the first few seconds Nico was rather proud of themselves. The spell was sure to wake the girl up and get the gears in her brain running, since she clearly did not know what she was talking about in her current state. No matter who she was or what she thought of the Gryffindor before her, she wouldn’t be able to deny the realness of the charm they so unceremoniously decided to showcase.
They believed their strategy was foolproof, but the brunette’s furrowed eyebrows made them seriously question that fact. The way she forcefully shoved their hand away, only further cemented that in this scenario, perhaps they were the fool after all. "For Merlin's sake, watch where you're putting that thing, considering you muggle-borns have no idea what you're doing. You almost poked my eye out," the girl hissed with disdain so palpable one would think Nico attempted to put an unforgivable curse on her. It did not fail to wipe the grin off their face. They lowered their arm but did not let go of their wand, as if to signal they were not ready to back down yet.
Granted, maybe Nico’s reaction wasn’t the most thought through, but they never expected to be treated with such hostility at the school. They were aware they weren’t necessarily like everyone else. Most kids, even if not pure-bloods, were at least somewhat familiarized with the magic world. Not like Nico, who never even asked to come here. They were put in this situation completely out of the blue, so they imagined everyone would be empathetic and try to help them out; such was the case with most other students. Why then was this girl so needlessly mean? Sure, right now Nico really did not have that much idea about magic, but so did their classmates - it was simply the case of their age, not their blood status.
They wanted to explain the thoughts rushing through their head in a civilised manner, but the girl seemed to have other plans. Shel swiftly stood up and uttered a short but aggressive phrase: "Get out of my way, Mudblood."
She put stress on the last word which Nico wasn’t familiar with, but the tone itself was enough to insult someone. With context, it wasn’t difficult to deduce the meaning of the dig either, and it could not be said they were a fan. They glared at the older witch, any ounce of respect they might’ve shared leaving their eyes. As they opened their mouth, they felt a force which almost made them lose their balance - she tried to push them. Push! Nico was ready to excuse her moving their wand away as no one would want to have a stick pointed in their face, but this was beyond outrageous. Worst of all, she tried again - but this time Nico was prepared, so they did half a step back before her hand reached them. It was unacceptable - they were somewhat acquainted with people picking on them, but no one ever decided to get physical.
Hoping to avoid any more unwanted contact, a verbal rebuttal seemed more appropriate. “For someone so stuck up about magic I’d expect you to hex me or something. Pretty not-witchlike to push a kid. Maybe I’m the real wizard, since I tried to prove my point with this,” they said, lazily swirling their wand, away from the girl’s face this time. “Are you sure you’re not just jealous of us mudbloods as you so elegantly put it? We get the best of both worlds, and it seems like you could use some of our inventions. Maybe with an energy drink you wouldn’t fall asleep over your homework and actually learn something,” Nico chuckled and glanced at the stack of books on the student’s desk. She no longer deserved sympathy for her workload.
Nico would never admit it, but the snarky tone with which they spoke was only an attempt at masking the wound the unkind words caused them. They tried their best in all things magical, and it all got overlooked so quickly - why was the girl so unjust? The hint of sadness managed to push through after all, and their voice became softer as they continued. “Why do you even care..? I get higher grades than some of my pure-blooded classmates. How can you say it’s not real?”
wc: 734
. ‧͙⁺ . *･༓☾ . ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁. ☽༓･* . ⁺‧͙ .
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ability: charmer
sta 3 eva 9 str 3 wis 6 arc 6 acc 8
Purely Ignorant
word count - 1236 interacting - @Nico Dawson speech - #7d7c78 |
❝ when I tell you to get lost, |
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The Gryffindor stepped to the side, causing her second attempt at a shove only to reach air. The brunette specialised in violence — especially acts of physical violence to be committed against individuals who enraged her. Ebony likely would have perpetuated her attempts at inflicting violence, were it not for the words that spilled from the individual situated in front of her — the individual who was just out of reach. The girl hoped to some degree that the muggle-born would begin to vociferate loudly, that they would lose control, that they would launch the might of their own fists against her. She almost wanted it. Perhaps she didn’t want to be the only one spiralling out of control. Perhaps a full fledged fist fight was what she needed in this moment — though the librarian probably would not appreciate it. The adrenaline always served to clear her mind of thoughts. To her chagrin, however, the Gryffindor remained composed. “For someone so stuck up about magic I’d expect you to hex me or something,” they asserted, their speech accompanied by an almost lazy and drawling tone. Ebony knew that in a way, their words resonated with the truth. It was indeed ironic, wasn’t it, that she was flailing her not-so magical limbs in their face while ostentatiously preaching her magical abilities? Nevertheless, she was not to yield so easily, for to admit fault — especially to a filthy muggle-born — was to forgo her pride and dignity. “Pretty not-witchlike to push a kid. Maybe I’m the real wizard, since I tried to prove my point with this,” they continued vexatiously. Kid? What protection does that warrant? The somewhat taunting swirl of the wand that followed the snarky comment created a maddening temptation to snatch the stick away from their hands. She almost was on the verge of truly pulling out her wand and performing a hex of her own, just as the Gryffindor had suggested. But something stopped Ebony from doing so. Perhaps it was the way they dubbed themselves a “kid”; perhaps it had gotten to her. Or maybe it was simply the fact that she wished not to play into her opponent’s hand. Whatever it was, the Ravenclaw’s tightened grip on her wand slackened, hand falling to her side. She dug through her mind for a rebutting remark, but none came. “Are you sure you’re not just jealous of us mudbloods as you so elegantly put it?” the muggle-born pressed on. What was that? “J-jealous? How could I be…” It was incomprehensible to the pure-blood witch to be jealous of a muggle-born. Incomprehensible, because what would she even be jealous of? Their inferior status? There was simply nothing, absolutely nothing that a muggle-born would have that she would want — “We get the best of both worlds, and it seems like you could use some of our inventions.” Oh, hm. It was true indeed that muggle-borns were able to experience both life with and without magic. The spells and the charms and all that flying and wand-waving — shenanigans that were simply ordinary to Ebony — held a sense of novelty in the eyes of muggle-borns. It must be nice to experience magic in discovery and wonder; as a fifth-year, nothing surprised her much anymore, save for some sneaky bludger attacks that enraged her more than they caused surprise. Inventions, however? Surely not. Surely it was all covered by magic. There was nothing that a flick of a wand or a stir of the cauldron couldn’t fix. Was there? “Maybe with an energy drink you wouldn’t fall asleep over your homework and actually learn something,” the Gryffindor continued. Merlin’s beard, they sure had a lot to say. Curiously, their monologue-esque speech was rather thought provoking. Questions arose that she had never really considered before. An energy drink? Did they function to wake people up? A Muggle invention had the ability to do that? No Muggle Studies lecture ever mentioned that — not that the girl paid much attention in the class anyway. As much thought as it provoked, their words still carried a hint of ridicule and contempt (followed by an irritating chuckle) that evoked a desire to argue. “Well, you see, there are actually potions and, er, charms that do the same thing — you’d know if you were of wizarding background. You know, the invigoration draught,” she protested, layering a little bit of a snarky tone upon her words herself. The Gryffindor wasn’t finished, however. “Why do you even care..? I get higher grades than some of my pure-blooded classmates. How can you say it’s not real?” There was a shift in mood upon those words, almost as if the atmosphere changed. It was subtle, but years of social anxiety had Ebony rather accustomed to detecting tone. Their words carried a tinge of sadness to it — the enunciation was softened slightly, the previously ridiculing timbre of the voice fading to a gentler one. Kid. The diction that the Gryffindor used to refer to themselves returned then. Kid. In that instance, they appeared small in front of her — and it only then occurred to her that this child couldn’t be more than a second-year. First-year, even, by the looks of them. The eagle had been so blinded by her own ignorance to take notice of such power dynamic. They were just a kid. Small and beautifully fragile and… sad. Like a frail bird perched in front of her. And then it hit — they were muggle-born. First-year. Alone in this estranged land with estranged individuals who brandished their strange sticks and wore strange antiquated clothes. Vulnerable — ostracised. As a pure-blood witch who was no stranger to being socially ostracised, Ebony couldn’t imagine what it was like for those who were not raised in a magical environment, for those who found all this strange yet wondrous. And of course, a way to reduce such ostracism was to best their pure-blooded classmates in terms of grades. It must bring the Gryffindor an immense sense of pride in producing higher performance of those swishes and flicks and flipendos. And therefore to insinuate in any way that it was not real — or that they were inferior in any way — was particularly hurtful. She was taking part in marginalising this vulnerable group of individuals. Somewhere in the deep, dark alcoves of her drowsy mind resurfaced memories of the first friend she had made at Hogwarts, @Allison Krug. She had mentioned vaguely, all those years ago, of how it was rather difficult for her to adapt, having come from a Muggle family. The Gryffindor girl had even informed her briefly on the hobbies and lives of Muggles, far before Muggle Studies became available to Ebony as an elective. She imagined the muggle-born in front of her was trekking a similar experience. Now, however, those moments in time were fading to the depths of her mind, forming only shards and snippets within her fragmented chronology of her time at Hogwarts. Her first few years here were already beginning to evanesce. Now to some extent regretting her previous actions (both verbal and physical), the girl cleared her throat, making a sound more akin to the cry of a strangled cat. “So, ah, tell me more. About… about the drinks. The energy drinks,” she articulated. Perhaps the kid would be willing to forgive her attempts at violence. |
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note: sincerest of apologies for the very late reply
| iNPC: Luuk Tjin-A-Wing | sta 7 | eva 12 | str 15 | wis 9 | arc 8 | acc 15 𝐓𝐏 • 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 • 𝐨𝐛𝐧𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 • 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 • 𝐄𝐌 |