Vanishing Libra's business away she turned fully to the Hufflepuff before sitting down. "I hope you don't mind if I sit. It's just such a lovely day out." The cats protested and went towards the purse to try and climb in while Libra trotted over to jump and greet the boy. "Sorry for them. Libra loves people, Aries and Gemini just want their carrier it seems." She chuckled a bit before tilting her head at his answer.

"Well lost in thought is usually not a bad thing, but sometimes it is good to talk it out. Have you thought about telling someone what is bothering you?" She thought about her own words and how she should possibly take her own advice, but her's was a little more complicated.

Of all the things he expected Ava to say or ask about, that was not one of them. Popular? Was Zhenya popular? He didn't much care for school yard politics, so whether others thought she was or not was none of his concern... but he knew what he thought. "Yeah, she was awesome.. or at least, I thought so." He wasn't going to speak for the school population, but the Slytherin had won his favour.

Zeke nodded, shifting on the bench slightly so he was more facing her than the street. Wands and masters, it was strange business, one which he could appreciate. "Yeah," he nodded once more. She had a definite edge on most others, "some will have watched potion brewing before, but few will have ever helped with one, and even preparing ingredients right can make all the difference." Obviously. He would know, he was in safe hands as far as potions tuition was concerned. Between Gavin and Emily he had it covered - not to mention he had his own natural talent for the subject. He could empathise with the young girls point though. "Patience is the hardest part." Especially for those that took months to brew.

The girls reaction to hearing Gryffindor was everything he'd hoped, because frankly, it was the best House. "Yeah, it is," he agreed. The name Ava registered with him, and he hoped he would remember it later since there would be a chance they'd be seeing more of each other. Though, he would be fine with calling her Little Burton too. "Zeke," he exchanged his name before observing the gum. "Sorry, I'm a Droobles man," he shrugged. That, and he'd already had his fill of gum for one day from Sugarplums.

Ellery cartwheeled joyously and easily, quickly enough that her dress stayed put and that she could be seen as only a vague blur if one wasn't paying attention. She finished with a flourish of her arms that served as both a graceful finish and a less graceful way to re-situate her pigtails. Once they were properly in line and neat, she skipped the rest of the way to a nearby bench. There was someone sleeping on it, a boy who looked a couple years older, but Ellery didn't mind. She sat down with a thunk, crossed her legs resolutely, and proceeded to hum the theme song to a muggle TV show her daddies liked to watch.

The boy was taking up most of the bench, which meant that Ellery only had a liiiiiiittle bit to squeeze onto, which was fine, but after a while one side of her bum was falling asleep. She scooted over on the bench, nudging the boy's feet out of the way in the process. Glancing at him, she decided to scoot his feet over more. He seemed really asleep…OR WAS HE DEAD? Eyes wide, she got off the bench and stood over his face, which she then prodded with both hands.

"ARE YOU ALIVE?" she semi-shouted into his face.

“I AM YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE!” Boo? Instead of letting out a semimanly scream, Ethan had successfully covered it up with something that might scare his intruder instead. The blond teen felt the presence, and the nudging, but he simply couldn’t care less. He was first to call dibs on it anyway. Bright ice blue eyes stared back at the little girl with pigtails, and Ethan felt the need to take back his words.

Well...she’s not going to cry, right? SHE started it first anyway. Who in Merlin’s droopy earlobes would disturb a beautiful sleeping creature like him, hmm? Slowly closing and opening his eyes, Ethan let out a nice long yawn, and repositioned himself. “Meeh. I’m alive...” more yawning, “...whaddaya want?” Did she want some bench space? She could sit on the ground. That’s what kids do anyway. Besides, he’s got...ten more minutes left on his lease timeout.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Hera

Of all the things he expected Ava to say or ask about, that was not one of them. Popular? Was Zhenya popular? He didn't much care for school yard politics, so whether others thought she was or not was none of his concern... but he knew what he thought. "Yeah, she was awesome.. or at least, I thought so." He wasn't going to speak for the school population, but the Slytherin had won his favour.

Zeke nodded, shifting on the bench slightly so he was more facing her than the street. Wands and masters, it was strange business, one which he could appreciate. "Yeah," he nodded once more. She had a definite edge on most others, "some will have watched potion brewing before, but few will have ever helped with one, and even preparing ingredients right can make all the difference." Obviously. He would know, he was in safe hands as far as potions tuition was concerned. Between Gavin and Emily he had it covered - not to mention he had his own natural talent for the subject. He could empathise with the young girls point though. "Patience is the hardest part." Especially for those that took months to brew.

The girls reaction to hearing Gryffindor was everything he'd hoped, because frankly, it was the best House. "Yeah, it is," he agreed. The name Ava registered with him, and he hoped he would remember it later since there would be a chance they'd be seeing more of each other. Though, he would be fine with calling her Little Burton too. "Zeke," he exchanged his name before observing the gum. "Sorry, I'm a Droobles man," he shrugged. That, and he'd already had his fill of gum for one day from Sugarplums.

"Ooooh, great!" She really wanted to know how awesome her sister was since they didn't live in a same house. Ava lived with their parents while Zhenya somehow moved out and lived with their cousin Sophia. So she didn't really know much about her and she wanted to. "Did you have a crush with her? Don't worry, it's just gonna be our secret." HEHEHE.

The brunette girl didn't know if she had those kind of patience. She easily got bored, that's one of her weakest points. But so far when she helped her dad brewing potions, she did enjoy it. "Is potions your favorite subject? Because it seems so." Pause. "And is the Professor nice?" Because if he/she wasn't nice, it's quite hard for her. Ava did hear from her sister that the Professors were nice, but she's her sister and sometimes sisters or family always sugarcoated everything to hide the truth.

Being tutored by her parents about wizarding stuffs, she had been introduced by them about the houses. Gryffindor for the one who is brave and bold, Ravenclaw for the smarties and wise people, Hufflepuff for the loyal and hardworker and Slytherin for the ambitious and cunning one. Her father was a Slytherin, so were her older siblings. There's a chance that she would be ended up there. But deep down, she wanted to be different. "Well, let's see where will be I ended up." Hopefully Gryffindor, not because Zeke was a Gryffindor too or the fun or whatsoever, but because she should be. "And nice to meet you, Zeke."

BOOOO, He didn't take her gum! Did he know that it was a prank or he just didn't want it? Ava was so disappointed. For the first time, someone refused to take her 'gum'. Maybe she needed to change her prank strategy or something. "Alright then."

"AAAAAHHHHHHH!" Ellery SCREAMED when the boy came back to life she ignored the fact that this meant he was simply asleep booooring and jumped a meter into the air. Okay, maybe not that high, but she was very startled. She then put her shoulders back and glared/stared at the boy. "Did you HAVE to come back to life so AGGRESSIVELY? It's not the ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE YET."

While he yawned, Ellery jumped onto the bench and knelt next to the boy. He didn't seem that alive from how long he yawned. He must've been REALLY oxygen deprived while he was dead (asleep) and when he came back to life (woke up) he sorely needed to replace that lack of life (tiredness). That was definitely the case. What did she want?

"SNUGGLES." And with that, Ellery wrapped her arms around the stranger and squeezed him as tight as she could.

"You're MINE now."

Huh?... Wait, what?

A crush? On Zhenya?

"No," he replied quickly and firmly. "No way, she's older, way older... she was just nice and all." While he did think she was nice to look at, that was it. There was nothing more. Nope. He didn't do crushes. Crushes were a girl thing, not a guy thing... as far as he was concerned. So their secret or not, it was just not happening.

Classes was something he could talk about freely, and potions seemed a common subject between them already. "One of my favourites," he acknowledged with a nod. "I like Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts as well." Those were his favourites, CoMC too, but, not as much. "Professor Culloden's super nice, he's helpful and interesting, don't think there are many that don't like him." He was just one of those teachers. Can't fault them on a human level.

The sorting ceremony hadn't interested him in a while now, but he might have to pay attention for this one. "You'll be in good hands no matter which House you get." But yes, they would see. It wouldn't be long to wait now.

Was it just him? Or was the Little Burton really upset he didn't take her gum? "Maybe I can make an exception?" If it made her feel better.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Hera

Huh?... Wait, what?

A crush? On Zhenya?

"No," he replied quickly and firmly. "No way, she's older, way older... she was just nice and all." While he did think she was nice to look at, that was it. There was nothing more. Nope. He didn't do crushes. Crushes were a girl thing, not a guy thing... as far as he was concerned. So their secret or not, it was just not happening.

Classes was something he could talk about freely, and potions seemed a common subject between them already. "One of my favourites," he acknowledged with a nod. "I like Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts as well." Those were his favourites, CoMC too, but, not as much. "Professor Culloden's super nice, he's helpful and interesting, don't think there are many that don't like him." He was just one of those teachers. Can't fault them on a human level.

The sorting ceremony hadn't interested him in a while now, but he might have to pay attention for this one. "You'll be in good hands no matter which House you get." But yes, they would see. It wouldn't be long to wait now.

Was it just him? Or was the Little Burton really upset he didn't take her gum? "Maybe I can make an exception?" If it made her feel better.

Ava just nodded when Zeke said that he didn't have a crush with her sister. Zeke was right, her sister was way much older than him. Maybe he just liked her because Zhenya was nice to him. "Okay then, so it's not a secret." The eleven-year-old said. "Does she have a boyfriend? She'd never told me about that." Perhaps this guy knew if he'd ever seen her sister with a guy.

Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Well, those subjects were the cool ones, right? Dima and her father said about those two. "Wow, are you that kind of person who loves practical lessons?" Because she is. She just couldn't stand with the theoretical and the books and... blah blah blah. And seemed like the Professor Culloden was nice and cool, looking forward for being in his potions class. "Besides Professor Culloden, what about anybody else?" She was just curious.

Did she look mad when Zeke didn't want to take her 'gum'? Because he suddenly changed his mind, maybe he felt guilty. "Oh, really???" Cue mischievous grin. She offered him the shocking gum again.

Daxton, for some reason, hadn't been expecting to have his notebook ripped away from him with such force; he thought he'd been quite clear in showing that he wasn't willing to let anyone take it, that they had an understanding. But he'd got complacent, and Genny Tate had taken advantage of that and snatched it out of his grasp. He would certainly learn a lesson from this.

A jolt of panic had gone through him, but before he could even so much as widen his eyes, Daxton saw that Genny wasn't running off with the book. He wanted so much to grab it back now, but was aware that she was already writing a response for him, so he let her keep hold of it, though only because she was turning out to be a veritable feast of information, and he wanted answers more than he cared about getting the notebook back quickly.

She received a brief glare however. A glare that was wasted on the top of her head, because Genny Tate was now quite absorbed in the act of writing. Daxton abandoned the stink-eye and instead watched her writing hand. He just blinked when she beamed at him, and waited for the notebook to be handed back.

Huh. Sports. Well... that was a whole lot of excitement over nothing, wasn't it? Daxton had never liked sports, just as he'd never liked the people who played them. At his school, some of the other boys liked to kick the footballs at his head if he went too close. And there was one girl who'd tried to whack him with a rounders bat as she went past, but Daxton, who had quicker reflexes than she'd reaslied, had ducked and pushed the girl down. She'd cried, he'd gotten in trouble, and neither of them had mentioned the bat.

It didn't take long for him to write a response.

'I hate sports. They're boring. I would rather read about them, but even then they're boring, unless they have an interesting history.

Do you mean fly on a broomstick? Can you do that?

I can say anything is illogical if I think it is. And I don't care if people get mad at me. Or ghosts, probably.

How do I tell you what House I got?'

The offer to go see a game had been processed but unaddressed. The prospect of seeing something so magical in action, even if it was a sport, was tempting, but Daxton knew full well it would be far out of his comfort zone; it would no doubt be loud and full of people. Even visiting Diagon Alley place had been enough to send him into a state of overwhelming anxiety, after all.

He went to turn the notebook back again, but then quickly thought of something else and added it underneath what he'd written already.

'How do they decide what House I'm in?'

Okay, there. Now he turned it back.

Text Cut: Daxton Daxton Daxton tsk tsk tsk

Quote:

Originally Posted by Felixir

Daxton, for some reason, hadn't been expecting to have his notebook ripped away from him with such force; he thought he'd been quite clear in showing that he wasn't willing to let anyone take it, that they had an understanding. But he'd got complacent, and Genny Tate had taken advantage of that and snatched it out of his grasp. He would certainly learn a lesson from this.

A jolt of panic had gone through him, but before he could even so much as widen his eyes, Daxton saw that Genny wasn't running off with the book. He wanted so much to grab it back now, but was aware that she was already writing a response for him, so he let her keep hold of it, though only because she was turning out to be a veritable feast of information, and he wanted answers more than he cared about getting the notebook back quickly.

She received a brief glare however. A glare that was wasted on the top of her head, because Genny Tate was now quite absorbed in the act of writing. Daxton abandoned the stink-eye and instead watched her writing hand. He just blinked when she beamed at him, and waited for the notebook to be handed back.

Huh. Sports. Well... that was a whole lot of excitement over nothing, wasn't it? Daxton had never liked sports, just as he'd never liked the people who played them. At his school, some of the other boys liked to kick the footballs at his head if he went too close. And there was one girl who'd tried to whack him with a rounders bat as she went past, but Daxton, who had quicker reflexes than she'd reaslied, had ducked and pushed the girl down. She'd cried, he'd gotten in trouble, and neither of them had mentioned the bat.

It didn't take long for him to write a response.

'I hate sports. They're boring. I would rather read about them, but even then they're boring, unless they have an interesting history.

Do you mean fly on a broomstick? Can you do that?

I can say anything is illogical if I think it is. And I don't care if people get mad at me. Or ghosts, probably.

How do I tell you what House I got?'

The offer to go see a game had been processed but unaddressed. The prospect of seeing something so magical in action, even if it was a sport, was tempting, but Daxton knew full well it would be far out of his comfort zone; it would no doubt be loud and full of people. Even visiting Diagon Alley place had been enough to send him into a state of overwhelming anxiety, after all.

He went to turn the notebook back again, but then quickly thought of something else and added it underneath what he'd written already.

'How do they decide what House I'm in?'

Okay, there. Now he turned it back.

Needless to say, the expression on Genny's face was pure eagerness and anticipation. She was barely able to wait for Daxton's reply, he must've had LOADS of more questions about Quidditch. She was already preparing the answers in her head, and struggling to keep it short enough to write, when he handed her back the notebook.

He didn't ask about Quidditch.

In fact, he bashed Quidditch and Genny, without exaggeration, felt her eyes sting a little while reading his response. It was her turn to give him a sitnk-eye. A real one, and one that changed her entire face expression not just her eyes. Unlike him, she was so easy to read and she wore her heart on her sleeve, so it was a no-brainer that she was deeply and personally hurt by Daxton's response.

Pursing her lips so hard they went white, she snatched the notebook again (this time with attitude), and started writing.

'You can't say you don't like it, you don't even know it. My dad says we shouldn't let our ignorance cloud our judgements.' She pushed some of her stray hair out of her face, because she was so absorbed in writing somehow she got her hair to get messed up. 'However, Quidditch isn't for everyone. It's for the talented and brave at heart only.' HA! Good one. She patted herself on the back and took a deep breath to calm herself down. He had another ten questions that each needed an essay long answer. Ugh.

'I don't appreciate the fact that you dismissed Quidditch and called it boring, I think it was mean and inconsiderate. But I will answer your questions because you don't know what you're talking about and your mother's a muggle.'

PAUSE.

She scratched out that last part about his mother. Her parents would be appalled if they saw that. HE STARTED IT THOUGH, insulting Quidditch, pffft.

'Yes. Fly on a broomstick, it's very fun to people who are normal and cool and fun.' He probably wouldn't like it. Genny was looking all sassy and unimpressed now, still shaken from that awful response of his. 'Yes, I can. I'm a great flyer. I go to Quidditch camp in summer.'

Fiiiiiine, she was going to let the Bloody Baron handle him when he got there and thought their existence was illogical. She just wished she could be there to watch...

.... okay no. She couldn't do that. Sigh.

'There are nice ghosts and mean ghosts. They'll do things to scare you if you tell them that, or worse, they could get one of the professors to put you in detention. It's really not worth it. Ghosts can help you if they like you.' FAAAIN. She didn't want to be mean to him just because he didn't like the greatest game of all.

'By sending me a letter with an owl. The school has owls for correspondence. You can write me one and stick it to their leg and they'll deliver it to me. I'll write you back.' Mhmmm. She was a lot calmer now that she was focusing on other topics. Whew.

'You put on The Sorting Hat. It's a magical, ancient hat that can see into your mind. It sees what sort of person you are and put you in the most suitable house.'

Genny was sort of proud of all the things she turned out to know. It was the first time she talked to someone who knew absolutely nothing of the things she thought were common sense. It made her feel more like her mother... it was a new experience.

"Not at all" he said shaking his head making sure she had room to sit comfortably, he smiled at the pup and reached a hand out so Libra could sniff it. "I have a cruppy myself, well...not so much a cruppy he's almost 5 now." He had missed him a lot too while he'd been gone at Hogwarts. This year he might be home and not miss him then...

He looked towards the professor when she spoke and bit his lip "I've talked to mum and dad but...they still want me to go back though they aren't pushing me, I know they want me to." he said quietly. "After last term....with the spiders....I just can't."

“One of my Hogwarts professors said to always make an ‘Entrance’. You know, leave an impression?” Ethan thought however, that he made an unpleasant introduction to the wittle girl. But he couldn’t care less that moment because EXHAUSTED. The Slytherin turned to his side, his back against his intruder, and chuckled at the zombie apocalypse thing. “Wait until you get to Hogwarts…” he mumbled, half-asleep.

Snoring…he was already snoring when the hugging happened.

O__O

He likes hugs, okay? But not when he’s lying down on a park bench. AND WHO IS SHE!? “Really…really adorable little miss…but you shouldn’t be hugging strangers.” He said patting!pushing the girl’s head away from him. And did she just claimed him? “Naaah, Josie owns me…” his own words made him sit right up, not caring if the girl was still hanging on.

Ehehehe. Whoops?

This was the second time Genny Tate had snatched his notebook away, and Daxton resolved to himself that the next time she tried to snatch it, he was going to hit her with it. Hard.

He sat there, watching her write and imagining such an outcome, and why on earth they'd gone from simply turning the notebook back and forth to this overly exuberant grabbing and hoarding. Daxton had seen her face change, but the effect was lost on him. No matter how many facial expressions he himself displayed, Daxton was almost entirely unable to recognise what they meant on other people.

At first he watched Genny Tate write, but quickly became bored because she was taking so very long and also her hair kept getting in the way so that he could not properly see what she was writing. Instead, Daxton sat on the bench and looked out over Diagon Alley, watching the other patrons and taking in the sight of each shop that he could see from here. Eventually, his eyes fell on the book shop and he wondered when his mum might be coming out; he was getting tired.

At last, Daxton became aware that the notebook was being handed back over, and he snatched it back too, this time, seeing as it was his. Very quickly, he scanned through all the things she'd written, essentially missing the angry tone at the start of her words, a tone that would have been evident to many other individuals. He could, at least, tell that she did not agree with him not liking the magical sport, because that was clear from the content of her words.

Genny Tate seemed to have a tendency to tell Daxton that he couldn't do things, things he knew that actually he could do. He could tell a ghost it was illogical, if he wanted, and he could say he didn't like Quidditch, especially if it was true, which it probably was.

... Don't appreciate... blah blah blah... mean and inconsiderate... blah blah blah, nothing he'd not been told before... and then a part that had been crossed out that made Daxton wish he'd been paying more attention when she'd been writing. But no matter, he could probably work out what that said later.

On and on he read, through all the answers that got gradually more informative and useful. Once he was done, Daxton turned onto a fresh page, because they'd run out of space again, and quickly wrote his response.

'Have you considered that you are letting your ignorance cloud your judgement of me for not liking Quidditch? I find it strange that whether or not someone enjoys the sport might influence your opinion of them. Is that ignorant?'

Genuine question; Daxton did not have a great awareness of those sorts of things. It was often why he came across as rude or ignorant himself, though he was highly intelligent (and knew it).

'I am not normal or fun, and I am probably not cool either. I would not like flying on a broomstick.

I am not scared of ghosts or detention.

How can I write to you if I do not know your address? Do owls need addressed envelopes? Can they read them? How do they know where to go? Would I have to speak to it? I assume they do not require stamps.

I do not think I like the idea of a hat that can see into my mind.'

Daxton turned the notebook back, and held onto it tightly this time, with both hands. Because he would absolutely hit her with the notebook if she tried to snatch it again, and would be giving no warnings.

Meanwhile, he was thinking about this Sorting Hat, and feeling quite dubious about the matter.

Text Cut: DARN IT ravenclaw

Quote:

Originally Posted by Felixir

This was the second time Genny Tate had snatched his notebook away, and Daxton resolved to himself that the next time she tried to snatch it, he was going to hit her with it. Hard.

He sat there, watching her write and imagining such an outcome, and why on earth they'd gone from simply turning the notebook back and forth to this overly exuberant grabbing and hoarding. Daxton had seen her face change, but the effect was lost on him. No matter how many facial expressions he himself displayed, Daxton was almost entirely unable to recognise what they meant on other people.

At first he watched Genny Tate write, but quickly became bored because she was taking so very long and also her hair kept getting in the way so that he could not properly see what she was writing. Instead, Daxton sat on the bench and looked out over Diagon Alley, watching the other patrons and taking in the sight of each shop that he could see from here. Eventually, his eyes fell on the book shop and he wondered when his mum might be coming out; he was getting tired.

At last, Daxton became aware that the notebook was being handed back over, and he snatched it back too, this time, seeing as it was his. Very quickly, he scanned through all the things she'd written, essentially missing the angry tone at the start of her words, a tone that would have been evident to many other individuals. He could, at least, tell that she did not agree with him not liking the magical sport, because that was clear from the content of her words.

Genny Tate seemed to have a tendency to tell Daxton that he couldn't do things, things he knew that actually he could do. He could tell a ghost it was illogical, if he wanted, and he could say he didn't like Quidditch, especially if it was true, which it probably was.

... Don't appreciate... blah blah blah... mean and inconsiderate... blah blah blah, nothing he'd not been told before... and then a part that had been crossed out that made Daxton wish he'd been paying more attention when she'd been writing. But no matter, he could probably work out what that said later.

On and on he read, through all the answers that got gradually more informative and useful. Once he was done, Daxton turned onto a fresh page, because they'd run out of space again, and quickly wrote his response.

'Have you considered that you are letting your ignorance cloud your judgement of me for not liking Quidditch? I find it strange that whether or not someone enjoys the sport might influence your opinion of them. Is that ignorant?'

Genuine question; Daxton did not have a great awareness of those sorts of things. It was often why he came across as rude or ignorant himself, though he was highly intelligent (and knew it).

'I am not normal or fun, and I am probably not cool either. I would not like flying on a broomstick.

I am not scared of ghosts or detention.

How can I write to you if I do not know your address? Do owls need addressed envelopes? Can they read them? How do they know where to go? Would I have to speak to it? I assume they do not require stamps.

I do not think I like the idea of a hat that can see into my mind.'

Daxton turned the notebook back, and held onto it tightly this time, with both hands. Because he would absolutely hit her with the notebook if she tried to snatch it again, and would be giving no warnings.

Meanwhile, he was thinking about this Sorting Hat, and feeling quite dubious about the matter.

Genny waited for Daxton to write his answers on the next new page. Thankfully for that because she didn't want her eyes to be burned by that Quidditch conversation. It didn't take him long to hand her back the notebook-- well, he was clutching it tightly and obviously didn't want her to put it on her knees and deliver her best handwriting. Fiiiine. He was going to suffer her ugly handwriting.

... or not.

Genny's mouth hung open at his first truthful sentence. SHE was ignorant?? Did he call her that?? He was the one who didn't know anything about anything! She glared at him for a second before reading on. And he basically said she didn't know how to make her own opinions, ISN'T THAT WHAT HE MEANT? She glared at him again, longer this time.

Good thing was he knew he was not normal or cool or fun. GOOD. That gave her some satisfaction (for about three seconds in which she flipped her braid over her shoulder in a sassy manner), but then the guilt kicked in and she wanted to tell him that he looked quite normal to her but not cool or fun. It was sad if someone had this opinion of themselves, Genny wondered why Daxton thought so. Did anyone tell him that?

She would've rolled her eyes and answered his owling questions if she wasn't barely keeping her boiling mood at bay. Because she was not ignorant! She was being super helpful and nice! Genny let him hold the notebook and started writing in a very rushed manner.

'I am NOT ignorant. I can't believe you'd say that after everything I told you. I hope yo' But then she scribbled on the entire page angrily because writing when you were angry was just stupid. She jumped to her feet then, gave him one last glare and stomped off.

GOOD LUCK IN HOGWARTS, NOTEBOOK BOY.

The fact that Genny Tate had sat there gaping like a fish at his response had Daxton puzzling over what could have elicited such a reaction. Especially when she gave him that look again. Twice. He was about to check his notebook to work out what she was reacting to, despite the fact that he could remember exactly what he'd written, but she was already starting to write a response so he held the notebook still instead. Genny Tate's handwriting, though readable, was really quite awful. The steadier he held it (and he wasn't about to let it go), the neater his notebook would stay.

... Not that that mattered for very long. Because she was suddenly and inexplicably scribbling all over the page, pressing the pen down so hard he felt sure she would rip the paper.

Daxton yanked the notebook away from her in outrage, but the damage was already done and Genny Tate was leaving, her footsteps much heavier than when she had arrived. Once again, her anger was lost on the boy who was now closely inspecting his sullied notebook. The page had creased but not torn but it was still ruined, looking like a toddler had managed to attack it with a biro (speaking of which, Daxton's pen hadn't been returned, but he was far too preoccupied to care about that right now).

Now well and truly fuming about his notebook, Daxton scowled. On top of the state of that, his questions about owl mail had gone unanswered and he was utterly confused about what had just happened, and being confused only really led to anger for Daxton Prince. He wanted to go and find Genny Tate now and throw the notebook at her head, except then he would have no notebook at all and also he didn't know where she was anyway.

Luckily, his attention was taken by another matter before he had the chance to inevitably think up a smarter plan. From a short way down the street, Daxton heard his name being called. He looked up to see his mum, out of the book shop but not carrying anything with her, and so he stood and went off to join her, shoving his notebook and pen back in his pocket and glowering all the way.

Whoever invented flats was bonkers...totally unhinged and loony. Eliza couldn't believe someone would invent a kind of footwear that didn't elevate your feet enough to protect it from craggy roads.

Why was she wearing flats when she was full of complaints, you ask? Because her helpful roommate said it would make getting to the places she needed to be today a whole lot easier. It was even going to be fun for a change, she said.

Well. Eliza was definitely not having the time of her life. She was used to heels, dammit. Why was she not wearing heels? Oh right. Because she was wearing flats.

Argh. Huff, huff.

For the meantime, she was going to sit right here on a vacant bench and continue being annoyed at her flats as silent as she could.

Yep. Nothing to see here.

The apartment was a little cramped today. Granted it was no smaller or more furnished than it used to be but Felix was getting testy with Rhydian today and it was starting to bother her. By now she was of the sound opinion the two would never get along and had stopped truly trying hence taking the kneazle for some fresh air in Diagon Alley. If this didn't get his short temper to fizzle out they would go visit Lottie for a little in California.

The young woman walked down the cobbled street, hands half buried in her pockets and her expression an uninterested one. There was nothing worse than visiting Diagon Alley when you didn't really have business down here and as much as she'd have loved to continue her investigation in Knockturn Alley, it wasn't the best place to take the curious little bugger.

Lex slowed as she came to the bench, both because her kneazle had AND because there was currently someone sitting there that looked like she was capable of murder at midday.

Even Lex knew this was a stretch but the thought had her slowing anyway. "What's eating you?" Clearly something to have her scowling like that.

She should've just brought an extra pair of heels or something. Or really, she should've just not entertained her roommates wishes in the first place because now her feet were suffering. She. Was. Suffering.

Eliza let out a ragged sigh and was halfway bending down so she could reach her aching feet - you know, maybe give it a massage or two - when she heard a voice near her. She looked up to see a girl who had a kneazle with her. She promptly sat back straight again and answered, "Well, I have just come to the realization that I officially loathe flats. These vile, pathetic, second-rate excuse for a footwear. Hmp." A little too carried away, she was. That it was a second before she realized that she was relaying her woes to a girl much younger than her. Cue inner cringe.

That...was a lot of hate for some shoes, the kind that didn't make your feet hurt afterwards too. If the woman had been complaining about HEELS Lex would have been able to understand all the loathing but flats didn't do a thing to anyone. More importantly, the young woman never left her house today with the intention of having an entire conversation about...shoes of all things.

Lex glanced down at her own, comfortable converse, forever grateful she'd taken a liking to them as opposed to any of the alternatives. It was only a shame they weren't appropriate for more occasions because she'd wear them everywhere. "These work brilliant," She said, gesturing to her own feet. "Ever thought of investing in a pair or three?" Miiiight have her scowl just a little less too...just saying.

Considering the woman's expression once more led Lex to what could only be a curious afterthought. "Why'd you wear 'em if you hate them so much?" Diagon Alley didn't have a dress code, she could have worn anything to walk the usually busy streets.

As she spoke she watched her kneazle hop onto the bench next to the woman. Huh. Guess they were stopping.

What worked brilliant, hmm?

Eliza followed the direction the young woman was referring to and came face-to-face with... Okay, her chinky eyes had somewhat bugged out at this point here. More cringing and there may also have been some grimacing happening. "Uh..." Was she for real? Eliza thought. Was this girl really suggesting that she try those ugly, for-kids-only kind of shoes? She was Eliza Tohsaka, a sophisticated grown woman who would probably become an old maid, and she was going to wear sneakers? Ohohoho, how about no? Her feet were for heels only. Gosh, she was born wearing heels! "They're not really, my type. So I think I'll pass. Have you ever thought of investing on heels?" Serious question.

Ah. They were going to that topic. Why she was wearing flats when she detested them in the first place. "Well, it's because I was nice enough to entertain my roommate's wishes. She suggested that I try her favorite kind of footwear and I agreed. Wrong decision, apparently." Did she have to get a new roommate now?

The kneazle was now next to her. Hmm. Admirable creatures, kneazles. She was yet to pet it when she noticed its owner was still standing, "Sit down, why don't you? There's still room." Eliza told the young woman. See? She was nice enough. Also, petting the kneazle now.

Had she invested in a pair of heels? Hah. Lex almost barked a laugh. Almost. "I have, several, against my will. They don't leave my closet unless they have to." Because those things hurt and she typically found herself wobbling for the entire evening. "They're not really my thing. My cousin's life revolves around them though." It kinda had Lex wondering what Arisa would make of this woman? She'd known the girl to bond with anyone over heels, despite how many other things they didn't have in common. It was sad really.

And that explained it perfectly. Trying to make the roommate happy despite knowing better. "Always a bad mistake. If I listened to everything my roommate said I'd have gone mad by now." Granted, Rhydian DID have some good ideas but others, not so much. She didn't listen to his suggestions on the way she dressed and she didn't always listen to his suggestion on the way she ate.

"Transfigure them into heels." Surely she could do that, it was child's play they might have learned at some point back at Hogwarts and there wouldn't be a soul in the alley shocked by her use of magic.

At the invitation to sit, Lex gave a light shrug then did just that, noting the way her kneazle was already capitalizing on affection being offered. "He likes scratches behind the ears a lot."

"Well, what sad life you live." Eliza replied. Because not using heels everyday? Sad life. Very sad one. Mhm. But oh, a cousin who's live revolved around heels? Did she come across this young woman to finally meet her long lost twin?! She was ecstatic at the information. "Really?!" She was giving the girl her FULL attention now. She wasn't even going to mind her hurting feet that much. It was starting to feel better anyway.

Eliza, by now, could say that she was liking this kid. Well, except for the fact that she wasn't a big fan of heels. But Eliza can overlook that. She was open-minded when she wanted to be. "Very true. They're trouble most of the time. Can you believe there was one time I was sleeping over at another friend's house and the next day I came home to I don't even know how she managed but there were feathers....everywhere." Merlin, when had she lowered her standards in choosing her friends? She was actually enjoying talking this girl. "Ah." Why haven't she transfigured it? "Well, the roommate made sure I was going to stick by the flats today, so she bound this pair with a spell-repelling charm. Of course, one that only she could remove too." Her roommate won that one. Tsk.

She was actually enjoying petting the kneazle. She should probably get one. "What's his name?" And, by the way..."Do tell me about this cousin of yours."

There were many words Lex would use to describe her life; sad because she didn't have heels was not one of them, in fact her ankles thanked her for every day she opted out of them. "I could provide you a list of sad events, you'd reconsider in a heartbeat." But no 'cause apparently they were talking about Arisa? Right then. "Yeah, you should see her closet, it's ridiculous and magically extended--did I mention ridiculous?" WHERE her cousin would get to wear that man heels was beyond her but Lex wasn't in the habit of questioning her so......

The young woman blinked, not sure she was hearing right. "Feathers?" There were a few ways you could get feathers to be everywhere but the question behind all that was why. "I think I'd take it; vanish them and be done with. It's better than one in the habit of kneazle chasing." It hadn't happened in a while but she was willing to peg that down to Felix being the bigger person. Only conclusion right there. Even as she spoke her eyes fell to the flats the woman was aching and moaning about. Charms to be sure they couldn't be removed huh. "That's....awfully thorough. Pretty sure you can toss the shoes and buy new ones. Muggle London's right outside." 'Least that's what she'd have done. No one could force her into anything she wasn't interested in except Cassia with all those shopping trips Merlin.

"His name's Felix, I've never known him to turn down affection." Well. Technically. Sometimes he just REALLY didn't like someone then not even the best tummy rub could mend the situation. "And my cousin's a card. She'll spend the day shopping if you don't remind her she's got other obligations an she's into all that girly nonesense." Perhaps not the best choice of words however considering this woman seemed all for that life.

Ah, no. Eliza wasn't really interested with whatever other sad life events this kid had. She wasn't interested in being an adoloscent counselor or such, fyi. So..."No thanks."

Yep, bloody feathers. She had not idea how Kristel managed such a feat and she didn't dare ask. Her roommate bordered on craziness, truth be told. Hah. This girl's dilemma was one of kneazle chasing? "Which kneazle? This kneazle?" Eliza asked as she continued to pet the creature in question. Little Felix, yes, that was his name as the young woman had shared, didn't seem like the type to cause headaches. "Maybe Felix just wanted your attention at that time. Pets do that. They act naughty for you to give them attention." Not that she was speaking from experience. The only pet she had was an owl back when she was still a student. Even then, she didn't spend too much time with it. But really, that was like common sense. ......About the shoes. She was right. Maybe she should just buy heels so she won't be suffering further. She could apparate outside Diagon Alley and walk - ugh she still had to walk? - to where she could purchase some heels. "I think I'll do that."

"I would like to meet this cousin of yours someday. I bet she and I will have so much to talk about." Heels? Check. Extensive closet? Check. "Do you think you can set me up a meeting with her?"They just had to meet. Eliza was so tired of speaking with people who didn't understand heels' language.

Lunch time was always nice and Victoria decided she wanted to take a walk. She had many things on her mind with a letter she had received from her son and then an article that was brought to her attention about her sons step mother. Trying to keep her child safe did she send him to more danger? These thoughts had been consuming her over the last few days.

Taking a seat on the park bench, Vic opened up her lunch. Picking up her sandwich. Taking a bite she looked down and frowned. She lifted the bread and realized she forgot the mayo. Nothing to do about it now she took another bite and tried to enjoy her break.