 rearranged things just a little bit Rhibear ~ Madam Solo ~ Dark Brooding Girl ~ Accio Jedi ~ Gryffinclaw ~ Just a doll
Gaston smiled a little as Haraldur patted him on the shoulder. It was nice to see him; he'd been wondering when the older man would show up. "Hello, Haraldur," he greeted. "HOW are you?" And it seemed Ignatius had finished... whatever he was doing at the Slytherin table and joined them as well."Hello, Ignatius."
His attention turned to Laurel upon hearing her speak. "They did," he agreed. "I'm sure you must be very proud." The House Cup and the Quidditch Cup... really, it was quite an accomplishment! His expression darkened as her next words brought back memories of that awful day in Dufftown, and another wave of self-loathing crashed over him. If he hadn't taken that stunning spell and been knocked out, he probably could've prevented Laurel getting injured at all. "Yes, I am; thank you for your concern." Well, his arm had healed, but his heart... not so much. The mention of his wife got a small, slightly sad smile from him; classic Rose, always worrying about everyone but herself! He knew this had been just as hard on her as it was in him.
Gaston kept his eyes down, unable to even look out at the students... especially those at the Gryffindor table. He knew accidentally locking eyes with one of the graduating seventh years would turn him into a weepy mess, and he would prefer that not to happen in front of Hawthorne. Sad goodbyes were always a part of his job, but the longer he stayed, the more he got attached to his students, and the harder the goodbyes got.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice Peeves happening until he felt something gooey dripping off his head. Egg... gross! With a quick flick of his wand, he cleaned the raw egg out of his hair, then started to aim at Peeves, but it seemed Hawthorne was already handling that. He replaced his wand and looked around to see if anyone else had been egged. As he did, he noticed Hirsch reading what looked like a letter, and he thought he heard him say something. What was that about? He eyed his neighbor with concern, but before he could ask, Hawthorne's speech started. He'd have to save his questions for later...
The dark-haired Frenchman forced himself to finally look out at the house tables as he followed Hawthorne's lead in applauding the Slytherins. A sudden pang of pride and sadness gripped his heart as he watched the seventh years rise. He kept a tight, forced smile glued on his face until the applause died down, trying to focus on their successes and not the fact that they'd soon walk out of his life forever. Finally the food appeared, but Gaston wasn't interested. Instead of overeating like most, he tended to deny himself food when he became emotional. Besides, he had something to attend to. He quietly excused himself and left the table.
__________________ Old voices I had thought long since dead whisper of another life I might have led
If I could take that second chance, If I could make my life anew, If only dreams came true... |