The Problems with Muggle Photography
Riley Bluescar ✩ Ravenclaw
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Noting was better than drawing after a long day. Especially in the courtyard. It was beginning to be one of Riley’s favorite places. Riley breathed in the warm air, humming a melody softly. She enjoyed how populated it was, and all of the noise. But it wasn’t kind of distracting when you’re drawing. But Riley had the gift of being able to drown out fighting, or in this case, talking. Riley’s parents loved each other, but they fought quite a lot. When they did, which was often, Riley excused herself to her room and read or sketch. Sometimes even play guitar, but she didn’t do it often. Today, Riley was drawing a bird. She found it a bit difficult to draw birds, especially the beak. That made it even more fun. She loved a good challenge. She almost got the hang of drawing a talon when she lost her attention. It was girl, fiddling with a peculiar object Riley assumed was a muggle tool. The girl seemed to be very frustrated. Riley put down her sketchbook and turned to her, trying not to look like she was staring. But she was, because she thought this encounter to be interesting. The girl was wearing a Gryffindor uniform and had long blonde hair. She also had slight freckles speckling her soft face. Riley decided that the kind thing to do was to help the girl. But knowing almost nothing about muggle technology, she didn’t know how she could help. Of course, her mouth was moving faster than her mind so the words slipped out. ”Do you need help? The girl looked over almost instantly.
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Word Count: 307/200
Last edited by Riley Bluescar on 12 Mar 2026, 15:48, edited 1 time in total.
The Problems with Muggle Photography
It was already October.
Do you ever feel like a misfit?
✪ Everything inside you is dark and twisted ✪
In some ways, time felt like it was flying by. It could've as easily been the day before that she and her cousin were put on the Hogwarts Express and carted off to this mysterious place full of wonder and ghosts and magic and brooms that flew like in the storybooks her mother never wanted her to read.
Taking it all in felt impossible. Every day, there was something new: another discovery, another magical creature... Most of the school didn't seem to be awed by it, but even the fact the portraits could move – could talk with her in full-blown conversations – was enough to keep the Gryffindor's mind spiralling. She was as often lost as she wasn't, determined to walk the school so she could learn all about its hidden passages, well-trodden corridors and the best places to capture some lasting memories.
One such walk had taken her through the courtyard on a rainy day back in late September. She remembered the way the rain beat down on the cobblestone as she and her classmates shot across to make it to their next class. Even in the chaos, she remembered pausing a moment to take in the serenity of this secluded oasis, and it was that memory that drove her back to the courtyard with its fountain now.
There was no rain today, and a gaggle of students were all lounging, but for her, that didn't ruin the magic.
Her camera not working did.
Poppy had been self-conscious about taking it about with her, as she hadn't run into anyone else with one so far. A lot of students were either curious about what they called 'muggle technology' or otherwise disdainful. Of course, there were some who, like her, were pretty used to them and didn't see them with the same wonder, but the questions made her nervous and often served to remind her of just how much she didn't belong.
Then she saw an older boy taking photos by the bridge a few days back. It made her realise that it might not be so unusual after all. It was the unspoken permission that Poppy didn't know she'd been waiting for until she got it. The little girl couldn't wait to begin snapping photos of the spots that were growing on her. The only problem was...her father's camera had given out.
Poppy walked into the courtyard muttering as she knocked it along the side. "Come on, don't die on me yet, just a few pictures." She tapped it a few more times, trying to be careful despite her growing frustrations. "Why won't you work?"
”Do you need help?"
Her head snapped upward before she could consider the action, eyes growing wide with fright. The courtyard had students all over, it was true, but Poppy hadn't expected any of them to talk to her. Making friends was proving to be a slow and painful process, and in many ways, the girl felt like a fading wallflower. The feeling had become so ingrained that it took her an extra second to realise the girl was, indeed, talking to her. "Oh—I—it's nothing, just...just my dad's camera." She hurried to lift it for the girl to have a look, clocking a second after that she'd seen her in a few of her classes.
She cast her gaze around the courtyard, not wanting to seem like she was staring now that she recognised her. "It...it was fine at the station. I even got a photo of the Express, but then...but then by the time we got to...uh...um...that village – I know the name, it's...it's..." They were too many things to remember. "Sorry, anyway, it's been on the fritz ever since."
Encyclopaedia ✿ Metamorphmagus ✿ If the sun shines, that's reason enough.