 astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
Waving to Mr. Hyland as the boy devoured his cauldron cake, Airey returned his attention towards the seventh year. "Unless you have an aversion to gourmet marshmallows," he said with a small shrug. Not everyone was a fan of them. Which was something he was unable to understand WHY. They were delicious. Delicious little clouds.But it seemed as though Mr. Atreyu was going to take him up on the offer. "The vanilla bean ones make especially good smores," he suggested. "Raspberry is quite delectable as well."
Glancing over his shoulder as he stabbed a vanilla marshmallow, the astronomer saluted the first year. "Welcome to Gryffindor, Miss Burton." It didn't take long for the next first year to appear and make the man chuckle. "It is our sincere hope that it feels like home, yes," he grinned at her. "Welcome, Miss Lee."
Sticking his marshmallow straight into the fire now, he offered the fourth year a quick salute. "Good to see you back, Mr. Zeke," he nodded. If the former department head for Law Enforcement found Hogwarts it enough for her son, then that gave the Head of House some peace of mind. The suit. Right.
Ugh.
Grumbling some form of thanks in the young man's general direction, he had to physically bite his tongue when Miss Messer joined in on the complimenting.
"Not new. Defiled with Dark magic is more like it," he retorted. At least he hadn't shouted at these two like he had Meri berry?
Now, wasn't this an amusing bout of deja vu? All the inquiry over a box. He supposed, so as not to repeat the disappointment that had been the looks on everyone's faces during his final lesson of the term last year - although HE thought it was all rather uplifting! - he shook his head in reply to the first year's question. "No, no dragon, Mr. Bellaire," he chuckled. "Or rather, not yet."
One could never tell what the future would bring.
Meanwhile, in the fireplace, his marshmallow was ABLAZE and threatening to fall off his roasting stick. Things like this did tend to happen to those who were easily distracted.
Turning back to the fire, his eyes widened and a sound - cross between the yelp of a crup and a manly whimper - he pulled his roasting stick out and blew furiously on the torch until the flames went out and he was left with...well...a charcoaled mass clinging to the end of his roasting stick. "You can...ahem...er...have this one...if you wish, Miss Bayless," he offered with a boyish grin as he slowly moved his stick towards the seventh year.
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When you’re stuck in a moment and your spark has been stolen .................................................. ...........
this is our time to own it, so own it.....................................
baby we were born with fire and gold in our eyes |