Solacium.

Sulking, moping, brooding, whatever else you wanted to call it wasn't something that Cel did a lot, but there was no denying what the little girl was doing in the quad of Brasenose College, Oxford University. The benches were few and usually occupied at this hour, but she'd managed to snag one on the right of the quad, shaded by the shadow of the afternoon sun.

She was a familiar sight on campus, usually reading some book or another, and the nest of pillows and blankets that she'd somehow gotten to stay on the bench like some kind of soft, comforting eggshell to hide in was a clear do not disturb sign that drove those approaching to welcome her back away. The extent that Parker had gone to interacting with her while she was in her nest, buried with books and headphones and her laptop, was to pick up one of her fallen books and place it on the bench so it didn't get stepped on.

There were a couple of groups touring the campus today, actually, senior students leading wide-eyed freshmen across the quad, but with every mention toward the massive twist of fabric on the bench came with a short "That's Cel. She's our adopted child. Don't bother her right now." Indeed, most of the professors shared illusory guardianship with Parker, watching out for her like parents even if Parker was the closest. She might have found her real mother and father now, but what really counted as real, now?

She was, in fact, sulking, and maybe she didn't do it so rarely as she would like to believe, but at least nobody called her out on it. This campus was comforting, the only home in which she had felt a sort of constance, where she hadn't been forced into a mold. And she loved her brother, loved her mother, but sometimes it wasn't enough. The empty scroll through Tumblr calmed her, even when it washed everything away to the point where she was frantic to snatch it back. Empty cups of coffee were littered on the ground below her, chocolate and candy wrappers that she would pick up once it was night and everyone was gone.

For now, it was the music blasted a little too loud to be comfortable in her noise-canceling earphones that offered her peace, but even that seemed to be coming from far away in the empty well of nothingness that she'd dug herself into. Well, could you blame her? She'd departed for Oxford merely two days after Svana had gone practically ballistic on her, entering without a word, stomping up to her bedroom, collecting her things and stationing herself outside. She'd been here ever since.

Tylenol wasn't quite enough to keep her headaches at bay completely, but she was probably taking more acetaminophen than strictly healthy in a futile attempt. Parker had no knowledge of how to brew that particular potion, so even if she'd asked for it, which she definitely hadn't, he would've been unable. Potions had never been his strength, anyway. No, she would have to rely on the wash of blue light over her hurting mind to soothe the ache stemming from deeper than just the nerves on the surface of her skin.

Bottled feelings, confused and mixed into indiscernible splashes of muddy browns and greys, bubbled up unpleasantly in her, toxic leeches reveling in her consideration of her stepmother. Svana, she had to conclude, was wrong, a realization that both crushed and elated muddled her at the same time. But she let the flow of oblivion wash away her thoughts, the only remaining phrase that she was probably not okay right now.

She, his mother, had called it a "cross country vacation". Scott was the only one who believed her. In reality, of course, she just needed to visit three different government authorities in three different cities- but tried to make it sound more recreational so that maybe they'd all come with, which of course they did: Scott, his father and Ben... though only the two former were excited about it.

Ben hadn't stopped sulking since day one, Manchester. He'd complain, growl and snap at everything and everyone- not excluding his little bother who, because the circumstances had been explained to him, didn't condemn Ben for was acting so horribly... The reality was, his brother and father had their own little trip planned on this very day (a trip Ben was less than excited about, and one he didn't want Scott around for), so when Gretchen had gone again and they'd both announced they'd leave the inn soon too- Scott had set out to wander this new city, Oxford, by himself.

Now, all he knew of Oxford was the school. It was also the first place he found, as the entire city seemed to be pointing at it in pride... but he supposed he realised why. It was a beautiful campus. Scott circled the entire thing once just to see how large it was, before even taking a step onto the gravelled paths and well-cut lawns. Once he did though, he could see it was even more stunning from the inside. And full of people, too, which was good! He'd missed people.

"Mah-gedalen.... maag-dalen..."

Skipping from building to building, college to college (and trying to pronounce all of their names), Scott eventually slowed his pace down as he got to what felt like it must've been the heart of the place, with buildings that looked almost as old as Hogwarts.

"Braise-nose.... brass nose?"

There were people there, too, walking in and out of the facilities with books and files in their hands. There were students on the lawn, as well, enjoying the spring weather... But Scott's eyes didn't land on any of them for very long, but instead on a girl he couldn't bring himself to believe was a student at all.

She was as if buried in blankets. Curled up with a book on a bench that looked more like a pillow fort the way she'd covered it, and though it was pretty much only her jet black hair that was very distinguishable from the ways away he was standing, after a few seconds of curious, let's be honest, staring- Scott had the unexpected sensation that he knew her.

"Hey! Hey, hello! Hi!"

Almost knocking over two students holding hands, Scott rushed over the grass to get to her. This was almost unbelievable! So much so, that any boy with just a little more sense would've thought twice about immediately deciding it was safe to discuss Hogwarts with a stranger on a bench.

But Scott forgot names, not faces.

"I know you, of course I know you! You're... well.... Cecilia? No... But we met first year, remember? Oh you look so cozy here. This is crazy! I haven't met anyone from school like, at all...

Scott Alexander? I hope you remember me!"

Vacua vasa plurimum sonant.

So there she was, a girl buried under piled of pillows, blankets, internet and chocolate, unaccompanied by none but crappy memes from tumblr, when she heard a voice from outside calling, "Hey! Hey, hello! Hi!" At first she was sure it was a student calling to one of his friends or something, maybe an incoming senior from high school asking one of the tour guides for help, but as the voice got progressively closer, the girl shoved down a few layers of blankets wrapped around her face enough so that her wide, green-brown eyes peeked out from under the pile.

Sure enough, a boy around her age and a healthy number of inches taller than her was dashing over the green grass of the quad toward the pillow-covered bench faster than she could say Brasenose College. A couple of professors walking nearby—other obliviators, closely knit coworkers of Parker's—turned toward him as if to stop him, to inform him of the significance of the pile of blankets around the little girl, but decidedly turned back around and continued  their conversation nonchalantly. Deodamnatus, couldn't they just give her a hand this time? Like, sure, she was supposed to socialize more, but couldn't they see she wasn't in the mood?

Regardless, the girl let out a long, exhausted sigh as she slapped the lid of her laptop shut maybe a bit more loudly than strictly necessary and tossed the latest cup of coffee out from under her cocoon. It landed on the tiny strip of empty bench beside her and rolled onto the ground. "It's Cel," she supplied, and under normal circumstances she would've allowed a tablespoon of vitriol to slip into her voice, but there was simply no more energy to do it anymore, despite the too-many-fluid-ounces of caffeine that she'd downed in a single gulp just minutes prior. "Celynne Gray. Ravenclaw." Her voice was monotone, a bit raspy from disuse and burning coffee in her throat, probably best described as absolutely dead.

"I do remember," and this time the interest in her voice wasn't feigned, though the last attempt had been barely audible. Yes, this was the tall blonde boy in that little Potions escapade through the dungeons, one of her favorite memories so far. She allowed herself to bask in the light of that happy recall for a few moments before drawing herself back into the present. "You were in the adventure with Professor Valtome, right?"

Even as her voice and words expressed engagement, her expression was bedraggled as ever, dark circles under her eyes starker than usual against the moon-pale skin of her face. She was well aware of the mess that was her tangled hair, knotted and disorganized down her back, and the usual fascinating spark in her heterochromatic eyes had been dulled into nothingness. Any sane person could tell that something was wrong, but any sane person who knew her would also stay the frick away before she snapped at them. This was Cel on sugar, caffeine and a bad mood. It was not something people wanted to screw with.

"Yes! The dungeons. That was some time ago, wasn't it... I miss Valtome! And- Oh, are you tired? I can tell, and it's understandable. I don't get tired during the Holidays myself, I just don't... Schooldays though!"

Scott laughed and took to sit against the armrest of Cel's bench, crossing his legs and waving his foot up and down in the spring air. He could understand why she had picked this of all benches, it had a very nice view over the campus... Though Scott couldn't help but wonder if she wasn't bothered by the people he felt were eyeing them intensely. Or maybe they were just eyeing him. In either case they seemed distrustful and Scott so assumed that that was just the way scholars in Oxford were.

He smiled at them, never the less.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asked then, turning his head down and to the side to look at her. "Besides... well I don't actually know what you were doing with that." He admitted, and pointed to her computer. "But in here in Oxford, I mean. Do you live here? I could imagine living here. It's very beautiful... Or are you on Holiday, like me? I was in Manchester yesterday, and in three days we're leaving for the Isle of Wight. Busy schedule! Except not really, I've nothing to do... My brother's in Dover today, as well, so I can't even argue with anyone."

He laughed again and proceeded to study his schoolmate further. She did look tired, that he'd already noticed, but there was something else about her that didn't seem quite right either... For one, she didn't appear at all excited to have met someone from Hogwarts- which Scott undoubtedly was. And for another, she looked almost bothered and down about everything around her.

That wasn't a mood Scott would imagine most twelve-year-olds were in during their Easter Holiday.

Verum amicum pecunia non parabis.

Dungeons, the dungeons. That had been nice. The kind of hair-raising procession of riddles and danger that Valtome had known she would love, that she had savored till the last moment. Scott had been a vital part of them succeeding, actually, both from ideas and strength. Honestly, everyone else who had gone had pretty much no muscle. “Yes, I miss Valtome too,” she sighed, mustering a wistful smile, but she couldn’t hold it for long. It was gone in less than five seconds, giving way to the beaten, tired, slightly unsettled look that she’d worn earlier.

This guy was certainly friendly. Not in the annoying, overoptimistic, annoyingly idealistic way, but bubbly nonetheless, and although bubbly wasn’t what she thought she needed at all, the idea was slowly beginning to grow on her. She didn’t mind all the questions, they gave her something to answer to instead of being forced to say something herself. Sometimes warmth was a better cure than optimism, because optimism told her that the world was a great place, which it wasn’t, but warmth reminded her that ice cream was a thing that existed.

"I'm tired, yes,” she hedged, deciding not to reveal the full extent of the past few days. That would both take forever and be strange, considering how she was in the middle of her only conversation with this new person. Their past dialogue had occurred while running from giant rats, so that didn’t really count. “I’m, uh. Looking at memes.” If he even knew what those were. “I used to live here, I guess. With the professors… I’ve got my own dorm room.” The girl looked around, ensuring that most people weren’t within earshot, then continued, “It’s charmed to look normal to people, but the inside is way bigger than it looks from the outside.”

So he was on vacation. Most people were bound to be, during the Easter Holidays, even with the sizable number of students remaining at Oxford. She was, too, technically, even though she thought of Oxford as a better home than the one she technically resided in now. Personally, she didn’t really like travel, with all the tours and museums and annoying weather that usually came along with it. Most of the time she preferred to stay indoors. Traveling to random hotel rooms would be great if she was allowed to walk around on her own agenda, see the history that she wanted to see and not where a tour took her, hide from the heat or the cold when she wanted to.

Well, if he had nothing else to do right now… maybe it was time to go inside, stop sulking for a bit. This was probably the closest she’d gotten to friend making in quite a while, why not try it out for a change? He seemed upbeat enough, maybe kind of bored… someone that she could hang out with without draining too much of her energy. A nice distance from the past few days, anyway. “Want to see? My dorm, I mean? Parker—that’s my, uh, former… legal guardian—won’t mind.”

"Wait, you lived here? As in, inside there?" Scott pointed to the school building closest to them, with an impressed look on his face. He hadn't imagined the girl actually lived on campus, could you do that if you weren't a student? But he figured, as the university apparently took up more than half the city anyway then it was statistically more likely for that to be the case.

Scott didn't properly know about statistics.

"That's really cool... I'd love to see it! I've never been in a dorm. Well that's not true, I live in one most of the year... I've never been to a university dorm! Is what I meant to say."

He jumped back onto his two feet again, and slapped his sides excitedly. Around his wrist clutched a watch, which he'd been given on his last birthday for situations just like these- in order to keep track of the time when he was away alone.

Ever since he'd first gotten it, Scott hadn't thrown that watch a single glance.

Things had to take their time, was what he thought... Especially fun things, or things you do with other people. And besides, Cel looked as if she'd only just now convinced herself that he was worth the leaving of her comfortable bench for, and Scott didn't want to waste that opportunity to see also the insides of the colleges.

"And then that Parker sounds nice! Your legal guardian...is that Oxford for father? Hah, oh I don't know. Our house is magically enlarged on the inside, too, though! Well that's just the thing... it isn't a house, really. We live in London! An apartment in a muggle building- so I know what you mean. The ministry sorted it for my mother."

He looked from the Ravenclaw to the vined walls of the building, excitedly.

Dictum, factum.

Jesus, this kid was really talkative. "I did," Cel affirmed, letting the pillow-fort-like blankets pulled up over her head and back fall down. Her sweater was rumpled and messy, the softest flared jeans she wore underneath pushed up to her knees, but she stumbled as her bare feet touched the ground, pins and needles crawling up and down her legs like tiny marching ants. Instantly she felt tired again. "It only looks like a dorm from the outside," the girl pointed out. "Inside, it's... uh. Quite different, I guess you could say."

With a quick look around to confirm the absence of the nonmagical—the only Muggle around was Casper Whitelocke the husband of Atlas Whitelocke, one of the other professors on campus at Brasenose, and he was fine—she tugged on a string attached to the blanket that she'd laid out along the length of the entire bench, and the giant rectangle of fabric flipped up to fold in on itself, swallowing the rest of the pillows, coffee and notebooks into a drawstring pouch the size of her fist. It was a nice party trick, of course, but the pouch that Parker had gotten her was a prototype, and its mass remained the same even when it took up less space, so she struggled to actually move it.

Fortunately, pillows and blankets weren't the heaviest things, so Cel picked it up and slung it over her shoulder with relative ease. "Parker isn't my father," she explained, beckoning toward the buildings as she began walking. "He was my adoptive guardian." Well, now that she thought about it, that was basically a father, but she'd never referred to him as such. Just as Parker, nothing else. Thank goodness for the short distance to the door. With a quick swipe of her card, the gates swung open soundlessly, and she closed it behind her with a clang, starting up the old stairwell.

"Look, Cel isn't dead!" yelled Casper from outside, poking his husband's shoulder to point at her figure in the window, and the girl rolled her eyes. "I can see you doing that, you know!" Atlas called. She did it again. "I'm sorry, did I roll my eyes out loud?"

Exercise at Hogwarts lay mainly in climbing the Ravenclaw Tower several times a day, but the muscle she'd built up in her legs helped her now to skip up the steps with surprising lightness. She reached the third floor in a matter of seconds, child's play compared to the hike up the tower, and pushed open the stairwell door before slipping inside, not quite bothering to hold it open, because Cel was rude like that.

One right turn, two lefts, another swipe of the lanyard on her neck and then another door opened. "Here it is," she gestured to the messy dorm room, but stepped across the threshold and closed her eyes just in time for the unnerving darkness and transition to strike. When she opened them, there it was, home sweet home—the empty, very much messy bedroom that she called her own.

As the two made their ways up the number of staircases, Scott continued to throw worried eyes back at the men who'd addressed his schoolmate.

"They're muggles." He said as-a-matter-of-factly, but not without a hint of intense curious interest. He'd never be allowed such relationships or conversations himself, with non-magical people. His mother was far too worried to ever let that happen. But of course, these persons had seemed more than kind enough! "Do you know them very well? Do they know about Hogwarts? Do-"

But then they'd apparently reached their destination, and Scott quietened as he had to quickly follow Cel through a door, entering a smaller corridor with dorm rooms on each side. He couldn't help but take curious looks inside through whichever doors stood slightly open... University was a peculiar place, and as if not peculiar enough did Cel then finally stop in front of what must've been her own door.

"Here it is."

At first glance, the room looked just like the ones he'd caught glimpses of before. Not too big.. not too welcoming, either, but he wasn't going to say anything before Cel took the first step inside.

The spell that enchanted this room must've been different from the one enlarging his own home, because Scott's eyes widened greatly as he got to see the transformation the bedroom went through upon her entering it. Suddenly before him were deep and rich blues... wooden details and brilliant water. It looked like a dream.

"This is your room?"

Scott laughed in bewildered disbelief, and spun around to get a better look once he'd taken to stand farther inside. His own room was large, yes, but he didn't have a pool! Which was probably a good thing, now come think of it, as he within after stopping the spinning nearly fell into hers...

"That's incredible! What were you doing outside, when you've got this? I'd never leave."

Est foculus proprius multo pretiosior auro.

Cel grinned a little bashfully as she advanced into the room, feet touching down on the pool's surface lightly. The water solidified and hardened magically under her feet, turning glossed and smooth like frosted glass, supporting her weight as she skipped across it and flopped onto her bed face first. As of now, the blankets and pillows were absent—stuffed in the little pouch in her hand and currently forgotten about. "Casper's a Muggle, but he's married to Atlas, and Atlas is a Half-Blood, so they're fine," she explained, voice muffled in the mattress in front of her. Reaching back with one hand, the witch tugged on the drawstring of the pouch. It leaped up into the air with a definitive zip sound and exploded outward, blankets and pillows falling down around her to land in perfect formation over the lump that was her shoulders.

Wriggling out from under the comforter, though, the girl continued to speak. "I'd totally be in here for a week straight, but Parker said that he wouldn't take me to Diagon Alley before the holidays are over if I didn't go outside for at least a few hours a day." She popped up, combing her fingers through her hair to just slightly alleviate the mess, and padded lightly to the wall panel a few feet away from her bed, pressing a few buttons. Some light pop music—Cool by the Jonas Brothers—began to play from the floor speakers, turned softer after a few seconds of deliberation. "I'm still getting used to it myself, honestly," Cel admitted.

Indeed, none of this would have been possible before she started her First Year in Hogwarts. The transformation had been made shortly before her departure for Hogwarts, though she hadn't expected to not need to return to it after her first summer. Truth to be told, she preferred it to the majestic, intimidating, ancient, dark rooms back in the Gray Manse, where her room was the only bright thing in the castle. "Parker just has too much money," was the running joke among their little community—and kind of true, too, with two lines of wealthy families plus a very nice paycheck. And, well, who could say no to the rest of this place, if the bedroom itself wasn't their style? "That thing over there," Cel continued, pointing at the pool, "is not a pool. Despite the fact that I still call it the pool. I can't swim. The water's, like... maybe three feet deep? I guess you could use it as a kiddie pool, but it's not meant for that." Moving over to the edge of the not-pool, she leaned out to tap the rocks in the corner with the edge of one foot, prompting a grid of light to appear and shimmer on the surface.

"That works as a transportation unit," she clarified. Pointing to the various squares, the young witch continued, "You can basically jump on these and you'll sink through to one of the other rooms in our building. It doesn't work over long distances, so it's not like the Floo Network or anything, but from here I can get to Parker's Study, my make space, the kitchen, lots of places... it'd take a diagram and several markers to explain how it works. All the rooms have something like this, I just chose to make mine look like water." The words came easier now that she was surrounded by what was familiar—and there was nothing she liked talking about more than explaining things. Unless she was explaining things to idiots. Hopefully this guy wasn't an idiot.

Redesigning Cel's room had been a mess within itself, filled with days and nights poring over diagrams and sketches with pencils of harder lead than she'd ever used and a lot of arguing. That had led to the discovery of the rest of Parker's home, compacted inside of his quarters and filled with a lot of nice things that had been reconfigured to match her interests too. Some of the features had been birthday or Christmas or Chinese New Year or whatever gifts from family friends or magical colleagues, others rewards for mastering languages or results of many hours of begging. 

She plopped down on the velvet-covered couch with the sound of compressing fabric, folding up her arms to place her hands behind her head. In her room, in her element, she felt a lot safer—a lot more willing to talk. And hey, maybe small talk sucked, but it was a great way to ease into more interesting conversation as long as it didn't take too long. People tended to look at you weirdly if you started talking about the generation differences in nihilism right off the bat. "So, uh... how's school life? Do we have any mutual friends? I haven't really seen you around, other than the hallways." 

Scott's wide eyes flew from one corner of the fascinating room to the other, not really finding anything to focus on before something else greedily caught their attention... The music, for instance, didn't seem to come from a record player like the one he was used to at home, nor did he recognise the song... and he definitely didn't know what was up with the furniture.

Eventually, and once done spinning, he managed to settle his eyes once again on the not-a-pool. He walked a few places around it, too, and inspected the shallow water carefully, leaning over the edge... Could he ask for one of those transportation devices at home? He figured it wouldn't be necessary, as he didn't exactly reside in an old college building, but still... His father would've seconded it! Though Scott supposed a system like the one before him would've only lasted some three weeks in their house before Ben would find a jinx to have them all end up in Mrs. Fulton's bathroom on the first floor.

"That's really cool!" He concluded, after hearing her explain the basic idea. "Though personally, I think that anything that could be used as a kiddie pool, should be used as one..." He made a careful dip of his shoe into the substance, then pulled it away quickly with a laugh and turned to his hostess.

"But that's just my opinion."

Celynne, meanwhile, had settled down on a red couch on the other side of her bedroom, and suddenly Scott noticed just how much more comfortable she seemed to be now than she had done before. A little embarrassed by this, he tugged at his left sleeve sheepishly: had he come off too strong from the beginning, practically inviting himself inside..? He'd been told that was something he tended to do.

"So, uh... how's school life? Do we have any mutual friends? I haven't really seen you around, other than the hallways."

"School life? Well!"

Scott didn't actually take to sit next to her, but insisted instead on continuing his small investigation of the whereabouts, trying very hard not to seem like he was prying as he spoke.

"It's all good. At least I think it is. And I don't suppose it's particularly strange you haven't seen me around, really... I'm hard to catch, tend to move around! Maybe you can you tell. I'm really like a shadow." Hopefully this was an intentional attempt at irony. "On the other hand, I've seen you a bit. Not much. You spend a lot of time with Elijah, don't you? In Slytherin? We rode to Hogwarts together his first time, but I haven't met him much since then. I spend more time with other Gryffindors, like Alan. Have you met Alan? Oh, I bet you'd like him... A bit more quiet than I, he'd never have bothered you!

...Oh, and Ami, of course. Though she's in Hufflepuff."