( ` it’s cool, crisp almost, but certainly not cold – it causes a smile to surface. relaxing, charming – if there was anything she missed most about Hogwarts, it'd be it’s endless blanket of stars. the moon illuminates her steps, guides her along the forest to the lake, a careless tune humming from her lips whilst eyes never once leaving the lit up sky. not naming constellations or recalling old astronomy lessons, simply taking in and enjoying the view. ) Lovely, hm? ( ` the statement wasn’t directed towards anybody in particular, though she was half certain she wasn’t the only one wandering the grounds at such a time; school was excused for the term, after all. hopefully she wasn’t alone – company would be nice. )
sulli loves pretty girls~ { ` comes up to matron yui and chus her lightly }
( ` fingers were flipping through pages of the Daily Prophet, eyes skimming over its contents diligently and it takes her a full minute to fully register just what happened and who did it and of course, due to surprise, her cheeks heat up as she embarrassingly sputters over her words) I– Who– Pardon me?
[ ` his dark eyes catch the sight of a familiar figure as he's making his way to the infirmary. slowing down his pace until he's right in front of her, he bows his head slightly in a silent greeting – a smile on his face ] Morning, Miss Yui, I see you're back from your vacation.
( ` eyes are wandering, shamelessly reminiscing of the days she first arrived at the school; an absolute new anomaly to its corridors. it takes a passing moment, but gaze finally catches the approaching slytherin and lips curl a grin instantly, the matron lightly bowing her own head politely in return before launching into her usual overly chipper demeanor ) Good morning Shamaal, it’s been a while! How’ve you been? Studies going smoothly? You haven’t caused any trouble, have you? ( ` of course, she unconciously skips over the topic of her absence )
hello!! hi i’m erika and i’m not new and neither is yui orz but thank you for the welcomes regardless!! :’) so yui is an old character i had for while around a year ago and she’s making her return to hogwarts :~) for plotting purposes, i guess you could say she just got back? orz anywhos!!
i’d love to just jump right in to plotting and threads, so if you’d like to plot, feel free to like this post!! or if you’d rather a random script starter, just reply with a simple hello or something, idk/c :> yui’s probably going to be flitting in and out of ask boxes too, so i hope you don’t mind that ;;
Have I lost sight of my ambitions? Confined to a single space of four stone walls and concocted potions. A simple woman wishing she’d sail the winds of the world, although has yet to lift a finger to thread those fantasies into her reality despite that. Is that what I’ve become? That sounds terribly poetic, but daydreaming and yearning has become routine for me now – and routine is a horrible fate I’d hate to fall into.
Hogwarts has been my home for nearly three years now. It’s warmth never failed to ease my shivering homesickness or cure hopeless heartache. The castle itself is magical, literally of course, but the sort of magical that’s beyond superpowered potions and singing incantations. It’s the kind of warmth that fills your very core. Does that make sense? It’s brimming with potential and wisdom and I feel I could learn about the universe just by walking through the corridors. I love this school and all of the people in it. I’ve made some very important connections in my life here – Yifan, Ema, Sora, Sen, Kyungsoo… My days would have lacked color if not for them. I love each and every one of them, truly, and if I could, I’d do anything in my power to assure them safety from harm’s way.
Those I have cared deeply for have vacated the castle, though it is not their absence that’s driving me to take my leave. Merely, it is their absence that has brought realization to dawn upon me. If it weren’t for a certain Slytherin, I’d still be in the infirmary, looking out at the grounds dreamily rather than taking it upon myself to get up and do something. Maybe one day he and I can travel together? That’s the wishful thinking I’ll forever keep to prevent tears welling in my eyes (they are right now as I think about him, along with my nose beginning to run – they're the reason why this ink is smudged).
Hogwarts is a home to me – just a home however, not my home. Despite its caring atmosphere and magnificent students and staff, it’s.. Empty, maybe? As if there’s a piece missing in a puzzle. That sounds cliché, though in the back of my mind, I know I no longer belong. Not in the sense that I feel out of place or unwanted, but I’ve outgrown my environment. I’m twenty-six and I’m still growing – funny, if you think about it. Simply put, I can only be designated to one space for so long. Is that how one would explain it? I knew I had to leave at one point, the thought’s been there for a while, but I’ve been pushing it aside for fear I’ll become homesick and lost. And I probably will. But a bird has to leave the nest in order to learn, doesn’t it?
There’s much for me to learn anew, I'm still young afterall. It’s far too soon for me to settle down and continue about a normalized routine. Hogwarts was a great stepping stool, pushing me to realize the promise I can bring and shattering my comfort zone. It will always be a home to me, a place I’m sure will welcome me back with open arms if need be.
To the sole attachment in this crumbling establishment,
I wish so fiercely that I could take you with me, leave no regrets behind. To the days I felt hopeless and wondered which sleeping potion would help me through the night, which one would be potent enough to induce happiness into my bloodstream. To the days when I was convinced my heart was diseased, corroded by the evil clutches of wrinkly hands, and polluted by avarice ; yet you vehemently believed otherwise. To the days when misery was the constant forecast of weather and your smile was the only ray of sunshine — hestia of the hearth, may you forever keep the heart of the home burning and alive. To the days I contemplated a life where I was never birthed: would mother had smiled more? To the days when ambition was the only fuel sustaining daily activities and pursuits rather than pure interest, to the days I allowed tears to spring forth and cast my armor off due to a backfired spell, and to the days naivety spilled from my lips and dreams where shared into Thursday mornings — you were always there. Whether it is a gentle hand or a genuine smile, you were always there.
This time it is for no one but for my own. Perhaps the first time I have made an autonomous decision at least to this extent. There’s nothing left here, surely you’ve noticed? The eternal hankering for prestige and status was the only reason I came here but nothing here pertains to me — now and from the very beginning. Empty pursuits are all that’s left and temptation of realities meant for another life. I’m transferring to mahou, surely you won’t begrudge me for doing such a thing and keep in touch? After all, the British ministry has nothing to offer hence preparations for N.E.W.T.s are absolutely pointless. Would rather enhance my future career by solidifying relations in a country closer to the prison called home. Perhaps in the future I shall visit again. Until then
Adieu. As that muggle plagiarist once wrote: Farewell is such a sweet sorrow.
There are two names on the plaque outside the hospital wing, but it’s only one that Simon seeks out, and he’s unsure whether that lurch in his chest is from excitement or dread. It’s probably a mixture of both, the same kind of nerves that settle in before every big game, that make his skin crawl in the best of ways, makes it even more impossible to ground himself; but there is no sky to escape to right now, only an empty stretch of carved ceiling above. He takes a deep breath and walks in through the double doors, eyes searching for the same familiar face he had recognized at the welcome feast last night but dared not believe. His Seeker’s gaze misses nothing, takes in all the details as he is accustomed to, already knows how many strides it would take to cross the room (or would have, if not for his slowed speed to save himself from the aggravation of flaring pain), and then sees her.
Only half her face is visible as she’s attending to a student in one of the beds and Simon has the time to muse to himself that Hogwarts students seemed to get up to a lot of trouble, even on the second day. "Aragaki Yui," he calls out when there’s a momentary lull in her work and waits for her to look up. Offers a smile, hesitant, timid; so much different from the one he presents before crowds and cameras. He’s sixteen year old Jun Yukimura again, standing under the heavy fragrance of cherry blossoms as he musters up the courage to confess. But what leaves his mouth this time isn’t a confession, just a single word in his native tongue.
A smile is curved however her eyes read concerned, nose lightly crinkled as she scribbled down probably her fourth injury report for the day. Although delighted to finally have a doctor in the wing, their number of visitors remained steady and unchanged, and she can’t say she’s entirely happy with the severity of it all on merely their second day of the new term. Have to admire their sense for adventure, she can’t help but think as her fingers tend to bandaging yet another arm. It isn’t long until she lingers into a daydream, a terrible addiction she’s given up battling with since her days of schooling. Lashes flutter as she recalls an old friend, a favorite poem, a treasured stuffed animal – an endless grocery list of loving memories and hopeful endeavors. “Oh my-” She catches herself mid-dream, finding the student’s arm nearly mummified – to which she apologizes with a sheepish smile, meticulously unraveling the mess she’s made.
She’s almost finished, the healer ready to send the student on their merry way before she was made certain they were properly patched up, though her attention is snagged by the tender sounding out of her name wavering around the infirmary. She looks up at the source, already expecting a member of the staff to be staring right back at her, probably there to retrieve paperwork and maybe a cup of tea, and she’s half right… She stops tending to the student completely, taking a moment to register; gawking at the face she presumed she wouldn’t see again, at least not in person. She followed his quidditch career very briefly when it first bloomed, listening to her neighbor’s pride or her grandfather’s admiration whenever the Japanese team was mentioned, soon drowned out by healing studies and further schooling. She heard of his downfall, though she knew very well he was too far for her to touch; till now, obviously.
“久しぶり。”
The phrase runs down her spine, an impulse to entwine fingers together rocking her pulse. A terribly old, reminiscent feeling. She’s caught between emotions, eyes brimmed with surprise though lips parted in confusion; gaze searches his being, trying to process how much he’s changed or if he was actually even real. Her voice finds itself involuntarily, lilt meek as his name escapes her. “Jun?” Unable to think properly, she stutters a bit, cheeks reddening as she comes to realize how ridiculous she must sound, though a “What..?” and a “Why—“ are the only words that coherently solidify from her lips.
Minho staggered across the sand toward the hotel. He gently rested his hand over his throbbing left eye. He’d never been hit so hard in his life. It felt like he’d almost had his entire head knocked off. Still, the disbelief he felt was even more crippling, the hurt and rejection he felt was deep. There wasn’t medicine for that, but he could at least get his eye fixed before the Ball that night.
After asking around, which was embarrassing but unavoidable, he found Miss Yui near the resort pool. Sitting on a lounge chair under an umbrella, looking as pretty and sweet as ever, Minho already felt a little bit better. She’d patched him up many times over the past four years but he was pretty unrecognizable now, swollen eye excluded.
"Miss Yui…" he called out when he was a few steps away before dramatically collapsing and sprawling across the chair beside her. "Help," he pleaded softly, removing his hand to display his swollen and bruising eye.
She finds peace beside a poolside, legs shaded and tinted blue underneath the marine umbrella standing at her side, yet another book in hand, though not entirely paying much mind to its writings. Her eyes are trained on the depths of the pool, nose crinkled in debate whether she should hop in or not. However concentrated, it isn’t difficult to catch her attention, head snapping to peer over at the body that had decided to occupy the chair seated next to her. The swollen eye is immediately noticed, although it takes her a moment to recognize his voice; his entire being had changed since their last encounter. “Minho..?” Her voice is soft, question laced with disbelief. She scoots off her own chair to kneel beside, his, brow furrowed and lips down turned. Wordless, she takes his face into her hands, studying his eye – careful and clearly displeased. “This is going to require a bit of paste..” Bruise removal paste; a remedy that wasn’t on her person at the moment. They'd have to retreat to her room for that one. “Did you get into a fight?”
You know that feeling when the world slows down, like in movies, and everything is in slow motion? Seungyoon finds himself experiencing the same thing. The healer passes by and his thoughts slip away, completed by silence and the urge to describe, in loving detail, the way her hair moved as she walked. There's not thought in what he does next as he picks up speed till he catches up: "This morning I saw a flower and I thought it was the most beautiful thing i have ever seen; until I met you.."
Per usual she's lost in an ocean of emotions and words, the book in hand held tightly within her grip. The world was tuned out, everything a blur as she idly walked the grounds, reading glasses gradually slipping down the bridge of her nose - granted, it takes a minute for her to fully hear and register the male's voice, though when she finally does, she looks up at him in flustered confusion; blinking, processing a response. Ultimately she offers him a sheepish smile, uncertain and careful with an accompanying cant of the head. "Thank you, I.. I am flattered, but are you entirely sure that's appropriate?"
ah, there she is with her bright million dollar smile. she has her head up in the clouds so much that it doesnt surprise him to find her day dreaming in the middle of a somnolent summer day. but then again, since she barely had anything on her plate, he couldn’t really blame her.
honestly, yifan gets himself into trouble all the time that he had sorted himself a regular customer of the castle’s healer. quidditch wasnt any help, falling off the broom at least thrice each season. he doesnt even know how many muscles and bones she’s healed, he lost track after the fifth one. initially, yifan didnt like her that much. too sweet, he always reasoned, but he eventually got along with her, much like a younger brother would with his older sister. she too, became comfortable around her, always telling him a story of an old friend he reflected in her eyes. he didnt mind at all.
he takes a seat on an empty bed and wrinkles his nose as he watches her prepare. there’s that nasty old bottle of analgesias and he prays she isnt going to make him drink that because he honestly doesnt like it one bit. bandages and tapes, he winkles his nose and pulls his uninjured arm behind as he leans back nonchalantly. “me being careful is like a world without quidditch.” he chuckles lightly, adding, “when was i ever careful? careful’s boring!”
Hands reach for supplies, bandages, splints, and all, eyes crinkling in amusement as soon as she catches sight of his expression as she makes a grab for an aged analgesic. “I thought this was your favorite potion?” The healer couldn’t resist the opportunity to poke and prod him teasingly – he probably didn’t mind, after all. “Or that you’d at least be used to the taste by now.” And she sets the supplies beside him, facing the Slytherin with said bottle in hand, studying the label. “This could be easily avoided, I’m sure you know. I’ll have to admit though, I’m kind of surprised they haven’t come up with a better taste for this yet?” Nods. “I’ll make it my next project.”
Her smile curves doubtful, mocking lightly as his tone rings comfortable with his response. In a sense, she had to agree with him; careful was boring. Adventures would be less of a thrill, memories less meaningful, but she shakes her head and chastises him anyhow, an instinct to protect coating her words. “Even quidditch players are careful, hm?” Her head tips, gaze slightly waning towards cynical. “And believe it or not, you’re not invincible.” A normal excuse she uses when scolding him, one he’s disregarded countless occasions before. He’s adventurous, a borderline adrenaline junkie maybe, and she admires that; though being in the position she was, she had to reprimand him – out of care and duty. He knows her words aren’t entirely truthful anyway.
Thus she begins her work, beckoning him to lend her his arm as she stands before him, unknowing nostalgic beam crossing her lips. She’s gentle as usual, meticulous when she splints and tapes the injury for support. “Mm, since it’s been a while since the injury’s been sustained, it can’t be healed in an instant.. A few days, hm? That’ll do the trick.” News anybody wouldn't be pleased with hearing. Brows furrowed, her nose wrinkles; curious, mostly concerned. “What happened?”
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