  SS 100 Triumphant!Ramora
Join Date: Jun 2009 Location: PININ for the FJORDS
Posts: 5,639
Hogwarts RPG Name:
Hadley Taylor
Fourth Year |  Canon Niffler || Neville's Yorkshire Pudding | | Teddy's Biographer || P + R = ♥
Three: Steaming
Ashtad stood at the security desk in the Atrium of the ministry of magic, listening to Harold, the old watch wizard, complaining about his shift pattern.
“She keeps ruddy changing it, and I’m fed up. I like to know what I’m doing so I can make plans. She don’t seem to think about my life when she’s messing about wiv her bits of parchment.” Harold rubbed a gnarled hand over his old chin. His round stomach rested against the desk as he absent mindedly filed the wand receipts from the previous day’s visitors.
“What can I tell you big H? She’s the boss and she takes security seriously. That’s why she wants to know who’s going in and out of this place.”
“Oh aye, but only ‘cause she managed to break in here twice when she was younger than what you are now. Oi, are you listening to me?” he demanded.
Ashtad had been distracted by a petite figure clad in plum muggle clothes that was moving quickly through the crowd, long brown hair lifting slightly as she hurried towards the lifts. “Yeah, course I am. Hermione Weasley, teenaged delinquent. Have you finished with those?” he pointed at the file containing the receipts.
“Aye, take ‘em, much good may they do her.” Ashtad completely missed Harold’s grumpiness at being treated so dismissively. “You go chase that skirt,” Harold muttered as Ashtad dashed away, towards the lifts “And much good may that do you.”
~
Hermia’s sole objective was to get to the lifts. She wanted to get upstairs, be lectured by Hermione and then go hide in the file room for as long as was possible. Most of all she wanted to avoid Ashtad. She didn’t feel up to trading insults, not on less than four hours sleep. She jabbed the button urgently, raking her fingers through her long brown hair again and pulled at the hem of her dress, acutely aware of how short it was. “Oh, come on!” she hissed, giving a dark look to the golden grille of the lift, almost as though she believed that it was being deliberately slow in responding to her. She reached out her hand to press the button again and it collided with someone else’s. She glanced up to see who it was and frowned. Much to her chagrin, it was Ashtad.
“I was going to ask if you had a good night out, but then I saw your outfit.” He gave a small chuckle.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snapped acidly.
“Well, you must have danced the night away. You didn’t go home did you?”
She listened closely for any trace of sarcasm, but couldn’t detect any.
“What’s it got to do with you if I went home or not?” She wasn’t about to drop her defences, Ashtad had gained the upper hand too many times before by acting like he was innocent. She examined her manicure and missed his frown.
“Since I’ve been doing your job and mine this morning, it’s got quite a lot to do with me.” She was surprised at the sudden harshness to his voice. The lift arrived and he strode in to it, shoving the file of parchment at her. She dropped it and the receipts fluttered out like confetti. She crouched down to pick them up.
“Mrs Weasley wants to see those, correlated and checked, as soon as possible. That means you were supposed to get them to her two hours ago.” He said scathingly, making no attempt to help her pick up the parchments.
“Are you getting in?”
She looked up at him, enraged. They had never really been friends, he’d spent most of their Hogwarts days driving her crackers with constant practical jokes, he was always ready to make fun of her but he had never been so blatantly unpleasant and rude to her. Before she could answer, the grille of the lift closed and it whisked him away from her.
*****
Ashtad sat down at the Ravenclaw table, more than ready for something to eat. He hoped that the sorting wouldn’t take very long. He looked up to the top table. Professor Boot caught his eye and gave him a meaningful look that said Behave Yourself. Ashtad felt slightly piqued, he hadn’t been at school long enough to do anything that would warrant such a look from his Head of House. He watched as the first years made their way towards the stool where the Sorting Hat was waiting for them. He noticed that one girl was rather tall for a first year. ‘Maybe she was on the receiving end of a Stretching Jinx on the train’ he thought with a snort of laughter.
“What’s funny?” Elspeth Muir asked from across the table, her short black hair gleaming in the candlelight.
“I was just thinking that kid with the long brown hair looks like she’s been stretched.” He said, flashing her a winning smile.
“Y’know, Djalili, sometimes I think that you were put in the wrong house. She’s a fourth year.” Elspeth replied scornfully.
“How'd you know?”
Elspeth rolled her eyes “She was sat with us on the train. Her mother works with my dad or something, so I said I’d keep an eye on her until she got Sorted.”
“Oh, right, well, how was I supposed to know?”
“Well, you could have if you used your brain for something other than jokes for once.”
Due to their hushed conversation they had missed the Sorting Hat’s song completely. Professor Longbottom was now reading from the list of the names of students who were to be sorted.
“Armstrong, Jenny.”
“Gryffindor!”
“I thought you liked my jokes?”
She pursed her lips. “Sometimes they’re a bit too much. There’s room in life to be serious as well. This is our OWL year, you know.”
“Miller, Logan.”
“Hufflepuff!”
“Oi! I can be serious when I need to.” Ashtad was insulted and frowned deeply at her.
“Parry, Robert”
“Slytherin!”
“Well that really is news to me.” Elspeth shot back, with a look of great satisfaction on her face.
“Smith, Hermia”
“That’s her, now shush.” Ashtad frowned at Elspeth, annoyed at being told off again.
The girl with the long brown hair sat on the stool and surveyed her peers with a haughty, regal distain. She seemed to curl her lip at the thought of putting on the Sorting Hat, but did she did so without complaint. It took a long time considering her. She sat there, looking bored with the whole thing, totally unconcerned by the interested glances and whispers that she was drawing from the other students. Finally the hat shouted “Ravenclaw!” The whole house applauded and Elspeth stood up, waving at Hermia to come and join them. Hermia squeezed into the gap that the girls had created for her.
Ashtad noticed that if she smiled, she could be sort of pretty but at that particular moment she looked bored and slightly annoyed.
“Welcome to Ravenclaw, it’s the best place to be!” Ashtad said with trademark grin, trying to make her feel welcome.
She looked at him as though he had just welcomed her to a dung heap. “And you are?”
“Ashtad Djalili, at your service.” He stuck his hand out for her to shake across the table. She gave him an appraising look and shook his hand swiftly, as though afraid she may catch something. Throughout the meal he attempted to make polite conversation with her but it was fruitless, she only gave one word answers, if she replied at all. Eventually he gave up on her and joined in the debate about Quidditch with his friends. After they had been dismissed, he walked out of the Great Hall and up to the Ravenclaw tower. He was separated from his friends by a crowd of Gryfindors. Apparently the same had happened to Hermia.
“Can you show me where to go please?” She asked politely.
Oh you can talk to me when you want something, he thought. Right then, let’s be havin’ you…
“Of course!” He beamed.
After ten minutes, with Ashtad leading the way, they came to the foot of a spiral staircase.
“It’s just up there, I’ll be up in a bit, I’ve just remembered I need to go and see one of the professors.” He allowed her to start walking up the stairs and scooted behind a tapestry to listen.
A few minutes later there was an angry shout.
“Djalili!”
The sound of her feet against the stone steps covered his snigger. He watched her storm down the corridor through a small rip in the tapestry, an owl feather sticking out of her hair.
*****
Hermia was sat in the Magical Law Enforcement staffroom with her head on table with her eyes closed, a cup of coffee steaming gently close to her. She heard the door open but didn’t move to acknowledge that someone had entered the room.
“So, are you hung over?” Teddy’s amused voice came from behind her.
“No, just tired.” She moaned into the table.
“That was a nice walk of shame you did earlier. There’s a charm to lengthen skirts you know. I’ve been casting it on Genevieve for a while now.”
“Thanks, I’ll look that one up.” She was still mumbling into the table.
“So, did Hermione mind you being late?” The unrestrained glee in his voice began to annoy her.
“You heard her, didn’t you? Her office isn’t Imperturbable, is it?”
“No it’s not. I have to say that my favourite part was when she threatened to transfer you to Magical Creatures if you did it again and you begged her not to because you can’t stand the smell of dung that they all have.”
Hermia groaned, “So everyone heard then?”
“I think so, in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if they heard you in Magical Creatures. I’ll leave you to your coffee.”
The door opened and Teddy left, holding the door open for Ashtad, who slipped in silently and sat at the table close to Hermia. He looked at her slumped over the table and his heart softened, the irritation he had felt with her earlier melting away. He looked at her slender arms and noticed that her pale skin was covered in soft, light brown hair. Without thinking, he stretched out his fingers to stroke her arm. Just as he was about to make contact with her she spoke.
“Don’t think I don’t know you’re there Djalili, I can smell your cheap aftershave.”
His hand dropped onto the table with a soft thud.
“So you’re alright then? I heard Hermione was hard on you.”
“Huh, you and everyone else.” His tone was kind, not something she was used to from him. She was highly suspicious and waited for him to speak again. As her head was still on the table she couldn’t see him staring at her wrist. He had noticed a platinum bracelet, set with the bluest sapphires that he had ever seen.
“That’s a lovely bracelet Hermia. You weren’t wearing it last night.”
She finally sat up straight, rubbing her forehead. The sapphires glittered as they caught the light.
“Thanks. Jago gave it to me this morning before I left. He had it made in Italy. He’s so thoughtful.” A dreamy smile spread across her face.
“And Jago is…” It was a question, a plea for information.
“An old friend.” She took a sip of her coffee.
“Generous friend. I’ve got to get on, stuff to do.” Ashtad rose out of his chair suddenly and stalked away. Hermia wondered what sort of nasty plan he was formulating, oblivious to the brittle quality in his voice.
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Last edited by HannahLongbottom; 11-05-2009 at 02:38 PM.
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