Repello Muggletum: a Hogwarts Roleplay discussion

The Gryffindor common room is located in Gryffindor Tower, on the seventh floor of the castle, behind the portrait of the Fat Lady. A password is needed to enter the circular room. It is full of comfy armchairs, bulletin boards, and scarlet-and-gold wall hangings, with a warm fire always present. A window looks out onto the grounds of the school, from which the lake can be glimpsed.

Atalanta sighed, staring into the warming fire in the Gryffindor grate. The flames flickered and snapped, mesmerizing her with their danced. Her Charms homework forgotten, the tall sixth year was almost asleep, in a trance-like state, not likely to be awoken by anyone as most Gryffindors were at dinner right about now.

A third year jogged into the common room, coming from her last class. Setting down her pile of books with a heave, a paper fluttered from the stack and dangerously close to the fire. "Uh-oh." She muttered under her breath but then tried to make the paper come to her. "Accio paper." She whispered, flicking her wand to her failure.

Muaricia had never had tense relationships with her captain, but now even being in the room with Lyte felt like they were seconds away to play a match at the World Cup. Even know as she walked into the Common Room time seemed to slow and turn into honey.

"Hello, Lyte," she said in her usually upbeat tone, but now it felt like it was ragged and according to her nerves.

She had come in only to take her Daily Prophet again--Maureen always left it to those first years!--but today luckily the puzzles had survived unscathed. And the news. She speedily scanned the Quidditch section avidly, and a smile spread across her face as she read the news.

"Puddlemere United beat the Tornadoes, and apparently it was quite a game," said Mauricia to Lyte.

"According to this, 190 to 90."

"Of course," said Mauricia enthusiastically.

[Just to clarify- Maggie has approved this, and character sheet to be made later. :3 ]

The common room was dark and as a rarity, was empty. On the overstuffed maroon chair sat Moonshine, the loveable, yet mysterious cat who's owner, Haley had dissipated on yet another trip to Hogsmeade.

Third one this week, not that I'm counting. He thought, swiveling his head back and forth, silvery-green eyes flashing in the dim light. The cows was clear. Slowly, the tiny cat stood onto the seat of the chair, and gave a large stretch. He slowly began to transform.

Suddenly, Moonshine had disappeared to be replaced by a lean, yet tall young man with the same odd, silvery-light green eyes as the cat. His hair was gently mussed, a light brown looking dark in the dim light. He was dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans, again looking around the room cautiously, ready to transform at any moment again. When the coast stayed clear, he began to relax and enjoy the dying fire.

*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis) wrote: "[Just to clarify- Maggie has approved this, and character sheet to be made later. :3 ]

The common room was dark and as a rarity, was empty. On the overstuffed maroon chair sat Moonshine, the love..."

((there are set dates for Hogsmeade visits))

A loud cuse followed by a jumping and falling from the recliner came from the boy. He hadn't heard anyone enter, and his hearing was as keen as a cat's. It came from being in his Animegus form so often.

He considered changing back into Moonshine, then quickly decided against it. She would recodnize the silver and calico cat, he was certain of that. Now he was screwed.

Mutely cursing himself, the lanky boy scrambled away from the chair, attempting to stay hidden from view of the furniture and dim lighting.

[Sorry, my iPod keeps exing me out of this topic. -.-]

Busted indeed. A loud sigh escaped his lips, loud enough for Lyte to hear.

Slowly, he stood, hands raised in the simple don't shoot gesture. He caught full sight of the dark-haired Gryffindor, and his tensed body slackened slightly.

"Oh. Hi Lyte."

Well techniqually, you do, just not in this form. The words almost escaped him, but he bit his tongue.

"Um, well, it's sorta complicated. But I'm sort of allowed in here without having a legitimate House." A large hand went up to rub his tawny curls with a sheepish smile.

"'Course I got a name," he scoffed, furrowing his own eyebrows. "Jeremy, Jeremiah. Whichever suits you." He pursed his lips, leaning against the arm if the sofa.

"But you know me as a different name."

"Yup." He nodded, but gave no sign that he would soon reveal his other identity. He slid into the seat of the coach, enjoying the sinking feeling now that he was heavy enough to make the couch cushion sink. "Lyte, do me a favor and can we keep this quiet for a bit?"

Jeremy outright grinned. "Fantastic! I need another favor, though, if you wouldn't mind." He smiled again, stretching himself out on the couch. As a human, he realized that it wasn't nearly as large as he'd assumed.

Jeremy outright grinned. "Fantastic! I need another favor, though, if you wouldn't mind." He smiled again, stretching himself out on the couch. As a human, he realized that it wasn't nearly as large as he'd assumed.

"Well tomorrow night after everyone's asleep, would you mind getting me some food, or showing me where I can get some? The stuff I eat now isn't exactly... Appetizing." He made a face, tongue sliding between his lips out into the open.

Jeremy bit his bottom lip, thinking over her suggestion. "The thing is, I can't take the chance of a House Elf not recognizing me as a student and calling the Headmaster in. I'm simply not prepared."

"Well you're not very caniving or mordant, now are you?" He chuckled in amusement, glancing Lyte over. She looked a lot smaller now than ever, but she was now easier to read.

"No need to be so cold," he scolded. "Don't worry, in time, I'll being my attention to Hogwarts do they can decide what to do with me. But I have to ready myself." He pulled his own wand from his pants pocket, displaying it for Lyte. "Because I need my scholars, too."

"Well I suppose you've been frightened out of your poor pretty mind enough for one night, so I'll bid you goodnight." He laid an arm over those unique eyes only to peek out from under it. "And Lyte?"

[Is Mauricia still here...? No?]

"Thanks for not killing me." He gave a pretty convincing mock yawn, and the arm was throwing over his eyes again.

After a rather lovely afternoon nap on a warm Saturday afternoon, Cecil strolled down from the boys' dormitories and into the common room, straightening his tie as he went. His blonde hair was a settled in a messy lump atop his head. He settled down into an armchair, legs crossing one over the other, and he pulled out a copy of The Daily Prophet (he supposed he should be doing homework, but he honestly couldn't be bothered)

"Excuse me, have you got a quill on you? Mine broke earlier," Cecil said, peeking out from his paper. He'd been meaning to get a new one at Hogsmeade, but there were so many distractions.

"Blimey. I was only asking a question," Cecil said, taking the quill and jotting a few things down in the margins before returning it back to the touchy Gryffindor.

"Why, yes," he replied, ignoring her comment about him. "The one and only Cecil Graham, at your service." 10 sickles? Is that really what she thought was expensive? His father owned parchment that was more expensive than her little quill, and the look he wore at her comment said as much.

"Oh no, not at all," Cecil said innocently. "What makes you think that I have?"
He folded up his copy of the Prophet and leaned back in his seat. Cocky could only barely describe his attitude. This girl seemed no older than a fourth year. Nothing he couldn't handle.

"What expression? It's just my face," Cecil continued in the same tone. He was growing amused. At last there was something to do to occupy himself instead of a dreadful reading assignment.

"Well I'm glad to be of service," Cecil replied. She was a queer little thing, this one, and he doubted any other interaction aside from this one.

Five minutes. Ten minutes. The constant tick of a clock. Twenty. Half an hour. Tick, tick, tick. Bruce sighed, dropping a piece of empty parchment on the floor along with his quill. Ace swatted at it lazily, a mirror image of his owner, laying boredly on his side.

"I don't understand the process of writing, Ace. Why is it so difficult? What is the meaning of it?" The cat stared at him with a blank expression. "Thank you, Socrates," he muttered sarcastically.

"Well, my friend, there isn't one," Cecil said, coming up behind his friend. He slid into the seat across from Bruce, one leg folding over the other. He leaned back in his chair. "It's just a torture method used by teachers."

"It's like every single word I have ever learned has escaped me in this very crucial moment," Bruce said, tossing his head back against the chair. He ran his hand over his face, as if to dispel the bad emotions, and gave Cecil a tired grin.

"Cecil Graham. Just the person I needed to see."

"Like I said: torture method," he repeated with a grin. His eyebrow rose once Bruce said that he needed to see him. It didn't sound like something Cecil wanted to hear. "Yes…?" he drawled out.

"Oh, dear boy," he sighed, leaning forwards in his chair, hands clasped together, and leaning back, finger-tips touching. Another one of Bruce's self-cleansing rituals. "I have some business that needs attending to. Do you know a Miss Esther Park? Fifth-year, Ravenclaw, dark hair, relatively nice person?"

"Kelly's friend?" Cecil asked, eyebrow raised. Yes, he'd seen the Ravenclaw around the staircase with Kelly on a number of occasions. She didn't seem to bad. Significantly more amiable than Kelly, though definitely not his type. "Yeah, what about her?"

Bruce's brows came up as well. He hadn't been expecting Cecil to know her, let alone know that she was friends with Kelly. No matter. That made it easier, anyway - he didn't have to explain why Esther was so concerned for Kelly.

"Yes, Kelly's friend. She wanted me to tell you something, and may I remind you that I am only the messenger here, yes? OK." He grinned, although it was one that was a tad bit nervous.

"Esther would like you to, and I quote, 'Piss off and find someone else to mess with,' in regards to Kelly."

Cecil had to admit that he was a bit surprised by the directness of her message to Bruce to the point where he wondered whether or not she'd say it to him directly. "Well," he began slowly, "I'm not going to apologized for compulsive flirting. Also, did you not see how much she was flirting with me at dinner? So, if anything, it's her own fault for practically asking me to 'mess with her.'"

"I saw that, but," Bruce paused, trying hard not to cross the line between Esther's side and Cecil's side. They were both his friends, and he wanted neither of them to be angry with him. "She was talking about Hogsmeade. I don't even think she knows about dinner, because you and Kelly seem to be on good terms now. I don't know," he shrugged.

"I don't think Esther cares if you apologize or whatever. I guess she just wants you to leave Kelly alone. And that's not even a difficult thing, right? I mean, it's only Kelly," he said with a short laugh, trying to be dismissive of the Slytherin witch.

"There are plenty of other fish in the sea. Copious amounts of cold-blooded animals with gills. That came out wrong, but you know what I mean."

"Well, if you're into that sort of thing." Cecil shrugged. "I mean, you could probably find one in the lake for all I know." He grinned, an easy smile, more amused by Bruce's ramblings than anything else.

"Oh, but I've only just gotten started with Kelly, though," he complained. "Be a shame to disappoint her now, y'know?"

"Right, yeah, I'll try to find time later," he said dryly, though Bruce gave a good-natured roll of the eyes. Leave it to Cecil to turn that into some strange fetish. He was relieved, though, to see that his friend was taking it with his usual light joking.

"Better sooner rather than later," he mused. "And you said it yourself: she's uptight, boring. Nothing special. You could find less of a stick in the mud and have fun with them, eh?"

Cecil winked, chuckling. Always trying to find the joke in everything, no matter now crude. "She'd starting to get interesting. Didn't you see what she did after the duel? Once she gets boring, maybe." But until then, Rosaline would have to do.

"I heard about it," he said, nodding. According to a classmate, Kelly had had Cecil immobile and helpless at wand-point. Just before walking away, she had leaned in quite close to him and said or done something. Bruce had been more impressed by her dueling, but he supposed that last bit was interesting as well.

"But do you have to prolong it? The girl has an expiration date, Cecil - at least if you leave her alone and find someone else, I don't have to deal with Esther getting pissed off again."

"It was weird. Not unpleasant, though. Amusing. She seemed to be enjoying herself, too, so I don't see the problem here." Ceci chuckled. "So what if she gets pissed? She's just a fifth year. Like you said: plenty of other fish in the sea, right?"

"What did she do? Roberts was telling people she licked your ear, which is weird, but Andrew was like, 'No, mate, she said something.'" Bruce was curious now, as the stories had differed from person to person. He went back to his point:

"That goes for you, mate. Park is my friend. We have an actual relationship. You and Kelly, however, are in a flirtationship. You don't actually care about her." Cecil Graham, Bruce knew, was not the type for commitment. And so what was the point of keeping the girl around?

Cecil laughed. Brilliant things, they were. "Should have asked Maxwell Libman. Poor bloke. Subjected to Kelly's flirtatious side, which really isn't nearly as bad as the rest of her. But if you really want to know, she said, and I quote, 'Watch where you're pointing that wand, sweetheart,'" he replied.

"I beg to dif--yeah, you're right. But she's fun right now. May as well relish in it before its all gone, eh?"

"Really?" Bruce's voice went a pitch higher out of surprise. "Did she mean wand like wand, or wand like - " He paused for a millisecond, lowering his voice and raising his eyebrows to suggest a tone of innuendo. " - wand?"

"Look, Cecil, I'm asking you to listen to Park so that she and I may remain friends. Forget Kelly - even if she's almost a ten on the Bombshell-o-meter - " Considering what she'd done after the duel. " - and find someone else fun. I bet there's someone way more fun in this tower."

"I may or may not have imposed the second one on her, but that's not important. Point being, she went along with it," Cecil replied. "Even went so far as to taunt one of her housemates, too. Like I said, it was weird."

His legs uncrossed and he leaned forward onto the desk. "Right, okay, since this little relationship is that important, if you find someone better than Rosaline, then maybe I'll lay off. And it has to be someone I don't know well. And no younger than fifth year. It'd be a bit weird trying to chat up an eleven year old."

"Challenge accepted." Bruce arose swiftly and with grace from his chair, straightening the collar of his shirt as he strolled around to Cecil. He put a hand on his friend's shoulder, staring out of the castle widow as if he was about to embark on an epic journey.

"From this day forth, Cecil Graham, you will hear the name 'Rosaline Kelly' and think nothing of that ridiculous wench - nay, you will not even remember the name. I, Bruce Ackerman, will be your wingman. Our broings-on will be the stuff of legends."

Cecil laughed, but he swiveled around to face Bruce. "Yeah, sorry, but she's the only source of amusement I've got during class right now, so untl you've found someone, I can't say that I'll be completely ignoring 'ridiculous wench.' Sorry." Though it was clear that he was not sorry at all.