Dark corridors, crammed bedrooms, stairs that smell / of cigarette smoke and impermanence. / Long days of waiting. Ringing of the bell
that calls us to our dinner. Shillings and pence / that fill the hand. The wallpaper. The pulse / of other people’s half-heard arguments.
The landlord’s dog. Interminable phone calls / in the lobby. Someone is falling apart, / another’s longing to be somewhere else.
You hold on to the street map of your heart / and make yourself at home. You’re here at last, / whatever “here” now means. Now you can start
your childhood again, the world a mythic past / you’ll wander into by mistake, the joys / of lost performance with a vanished cast
of now-imagined names that other boys / might whisper just to put you in a spin. / It is another language that deploys
the tottering edifice that you live in. / Strangers will come and go, are gone for good. / The bedrooms empty. Here is a new skin
for you to wear in the enchanted wood.
—boarding house by george szirtes
APP
⧼ sydney park, non-binary, they/them or she/her / marbles by snarls + clothes never unpacked and put away, always ready to leave on a whim; hands stained with ink; the scent of coffee with too much caramel and too much sugar. ⧽ ━━ hey, isn’t that ORIANA TRELAWNEY? i read a daily prophet article on them, once ; the TWENTY THREE year old [ half blood ] WITCH is a RAVENCLAW alumnus who has gone on to be a JOURNALIST. i’ve heard they can be quite ORGANIZED & AMBITIOUS, but i don’t know… they came off very AVOIDANT & INDECISIVE in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it? [ chris, 19, est, they/them or she/her ] *sybill’s adoptive child wc
ROUGH BIO UNTIL I’M COMFORTABLE ENOUGH TO DO PROSE IN THIS VERSE
Oriana doesn’t have a sob story before they were adopted. There were no years spent in the foster system or whatever the UK equivalent would be and there’s no tragedy surrounding their conception or birth. Their biological parents simply didn’t want a child and not long after, a screaming infant was welcomed into the hearts and home of Sybill Trelawney and her now ex-wife.
Children very rarely make sense. And Oriana was no exception to this. When they were younger, when they were too young to be hurt by the distance Sybill afforded them, they looked up to her. It was easy, with the wide eyes and wandering mind of a child, it was easy to see Sybill and her focus on her career, on predicting the future, as something to look up to, something to aspire to. They adored Sybill for more than they care to admit, for more than they would admit to anyone, let alone the woman herself.
It was when they were older, eleven years old, when the adoration of early childhood faded into and the hurt and bitterness that tinted nearly the rest of their life settled within them. It was never Sybill they turned to for support or comfort or advice. It was always their other mother that was there. It was not a sudden thing. They did not wake up one day suddenly bitter and upset with Sybill.
No it was a slow building thing. It was a series of moments missed and moments that never quite lived up to what Oriana had come to expect from a parent that built and built and built until they no longer cared to try and build a relationship with Sybill.
At Hogwarts, they were not a notable student or someone who stood out at all. There was a... reputation that came with their last name but after a new years of a carefully curated appearance, robes never out of place, and any quirks they might’ve picked up carefully hidden, it was all but forgotten. They simply went to class and lived their life.
Okay we are 350 words into this and it’s time for a confession: idk what a Harry Potter is. I read two of the books and saw the very last movie. That is what I know. Rachel is serving as my guide but uh i don’t feel comfortable talking about this with any sort of confidence so uh here’s a blanket statement: Oriana was a Good Guy but in the Background. they just existed and tried to help but i cannot tell you what that means!
What I can tell you is that they had a gf, Bellamy, who they were friends with from their first day at Hogwarts and started dating when they 14. They were cute and sweet and in love and they always imagined they would be together forever. Then Bellamy died in the Battle of Hogwarts.
Oriana finished their last year at Hogwarts then dipped. Everything was just a lot, and they couldn’t really remember any of the happy memories they had anymore but They moved to the U.S., used some magically forged documents to apply to a university (Rachel pls yell at me if this doesn’t make sense. But don’t actually yell gently poke me or i’ll cry and leave again), and just lived their life. They worked full time at some dead end job and got their degree.
They only recently graduated last spring. Spent a while trying to find a job before they decided to cut their losses and got one at a magic-centered paper (?) and moved back
🔧 WRENCH - are they good at fixing relationships? or do they tend to avoid doing so?
oriana is prone to fucking up relationships and then continuing to fuck them up when they try to fix them. they've stopped trying, will take the blame and the hate and try and move on with their life. it's not healthy but they can't think of anything else to do.
💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon
oriana doesn't talk much about sybill to anyone anymore. they don't want more stories from aurora and they don't want to hear people who really only knew her as a hogwarts professor to join in on their ranting about her. when they miss sybill they go out to the countryside, lay down, and look up the stars—trying to remember the stories sybill told and they ignored.
💗 GROWING HEART - if they have a crush, is it noticable? what changes when they’re in love?
oriana is so emotionally constipated that they wouldn't even notice if they had a crush on someone at this point. all feelings are pushed down and down and down until they can't even tell what they are feeling anymore.
⚾ BASEBALL - can they play sports? what is their best position if they play a team sport? what’s their strong suit (speed, power etc.)?
oriana has never once played a sport of their own free will. they aren't exactly athletic and never sybill nor aurora felt much need to actually encourage them to give them a go—sybill didn't particularly care much and aurora was content that oriana at least focused on their academics.
☀️ SUN - are they a morning person? what is the first thing they do in the morning?
oriana's not a mornings person by choice. they have to be in the office relatively early in order to get things to print on time, and that's the only reason they wake up before 10am any day of the week. they wake up with just enough time to get ready and get to work on time, absolutely no wiggle room there.
☕️ HOT BEVERAGE - do they prefer hot or cold drinks? what is their favourite drink?
oriana definitely prefers cold drinks. they taste better in their mind and work better as silly little drinks you sip throughout the day. for the actual drinks they are woefully simple and just tend to stick to an iced coffee with either vanilla or caramel syrup.
🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?
a few years, before sybill's death, their answer would've been different. there was a point in between the battle of hogwarts and sybill's death where oriana still thought that they were a good person, that they would do good things in the world no matter how weighed down they felt. but after sybill died and after they became an oracle and when the rumor mill really started taking off, they've grown a lot more jaded. they'd go the path of inaction, step back and watch and see if anything they could write an article about came out of it.
( 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 ) — daily prophet offices
( 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ) — closed
( 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ) — ❛ where is this coming from ? ❜
( 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ) — phoebe fletcher-blake ( @dolors )
oriana started their day in the field and in another outfit—still the attire of a professional of a journalist despite the decidedly unprofessional skew of their content in the past year. the outfit had been ruined, red dye from a cherry slushie sinking into the overpriced button down they’d picked early that day. “some kid ran into me with a giant cherry slushie in their hand. i don’t know if it was on purpose or not but i can’t be sure.” they’d been ranting, threatening to shut the gossip panel down that day after it. “so like do i track down the kid, write an article lying about his parents having an affair? do i chill out? do i quit? am i a bad person?”
“pinky promise i won’t provoke anyone into throwing a drink on me tonight.” oriana didn’t care much for bars, didn’t really care much for most of the places their job dragged them. they wanted, only a few years ago, to do something that matter. but money was money, and this sort of sleazy, slanderous work paid better than anything else they had tried. besides, drama never died even if the prophet had hastily pulled an article accusing daisy dyer of cheating that was set to go live on december 26th. “i’m just gonna people watch.” and eavesdrop, but seamus didn’t need to know that.
musicality in his tone is a stark revelation of the joy with which he regards the evening, evident even when he drops his tone to a 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛, calling the attention of a distracted guest. “ ursa major & ursa minor. mother & baby bear, 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾. my favourites. funny, i never had a penchant for stargazing, really, until … ” it’s the kind of natural trail that warrants a delicate misting of champagne - stung baby blues, but lucius isn’t prone to that kind of outburst ; instead, there’s a touch of the 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 & wistful to the smile he offers. “ of all of the enchantments, i took the most care with those ones. ”
stars were admittedly a bitter topic for oriana still—the first thing they shared with aurora and the last thing that sybill shared with them. the memory of stargazing with her, that too late attempt to know them, came back unwanted at the constellation enchantments that captured their attention. the press lanyard they wore was forgotten, along with the notepad that they scribbled down the tidbits of gossip that filtered to them. “you did great. it’s beautiful.”
( 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 ) — diagon alley
( 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ) — closed
( 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ) — ❛ are you implying that i cannot keep this thing a secret? ❜
( 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ) — millicent bulstrode ( @hoggleswart )
“not at all.” oriana hadn’t technically been working when they saw millicent at the winter festival. it was the opposite actually, heading home from the daily prophet office for the day, but they couldn’t look a blend eye to the chance to get some information about the baby shower they hadn’t been able to worm their way into. “i’m asking you to not to keep it a secret. you know, give me some details. sell a story to the prophet, get some extra money for christmas gifts. it’s a win-win.”
Damien Graves fucking hates the winter. Which is odd, since he does love the holidays ( he’ll never admit it despite anyone’s best attempt. ) He slipped on ice one too many times for his patience ( so, one time ) and now he has a vendetta against the whole season. The poor man is bundled up in a comically thick amount of scarfs and layers underneath his coat.
“This country’s weather is fucking ridiculous.” He mutters to nobody in particular, not even really paying attention as he lights up a cigarette. It’s a recent development, one he isn’t thrilled with. “All the spells in the world and we can’t think of one that makes heat?”
—
“it fucking sucks.” oriana had their own disdain for the cold. if given the chance, they would spend every moment of winter inside—had even gone so far as to try and convince their boss at the daily prophet to let them work from home any time the temperature dipped below freezing or a single snowflake fluttered down from the heavens. it hadn’t worked, their boss and editor both unconvinced by their assertion that they could gather gossip from inside an insulated cocoon of blankets in their bedroom. “i need to move somewhere warmer.”
there wasn’t all that much for hande to do with her winter evenings, anymore. in decembers past, she’d at least been able to sip on a warm firewhiskey or try out skating across the village ice rink. last year, still insecure in her position & hoping to continue making the best impression on dionisia, she had volunteered to man the wreath selling booth on diagon alley late into the night, but the other had refused her offer to stand around in the cold after the arboretum closed up for the night for obvious reasons. her fun was more limited, now, which was alright in some ways ( she’d never actually mastered ice skating and she hated the cold, in general ) but bothersome, in others.
when she & her roommates had decided to visit hogsmeade on the night of the tree lighting, none of them had realised how much hande would have to sit out of, but she’d urged them on while assuring them that the various stores and stalls would be enough excitement for her, and so far they had been - she’d been window shopping with a go cup of hot chocolate clutched between both hands for a while before the little knitted outfits had caught her attention, and she couldn’t help herself putting said cup down on the edge of the rickety sales table when there were tiny clothes to run her fingertips over. the little booties…- hande smiled, a little, to herself, plucking them up gently and, to her nearest neighbour, uttering, “these are cute, aren’t they ? do you think that green could be a neutral color ?”
it had been a slow week for the rumor mill—the lead up to christmas either painfully trite or filled with enough drama to fill out an entire year of the rumor mill. this had been the latter and oriana was hoping that christmas itself would open the floodgates. fingers crossed for secret kid reveals and fights over christmas dinner that led to the disownment of some purebloods. as it stood, their last article had been little more than a fluff piece, a rare attempt at gossip that wouldn’t potentially ruin families and careers. they hated it, had nearly asked for a last minute week off the column.
oriana hated the cold, hated snow even more than that. if it had been up to them, they would be back at their house. no matter how drafty the building was, they could at least bundle up, half a dozen blankets wrapped around their shoulders and on their lap. but the potential of gossip was too much for them to turn it down. they’d hovered around the ice rink, watching for any surprise proposals or relationship ending fights. but they’d had to cut their losses when, even with their gloves on, their hands were too cold to get a grip on their pen, wandering away from the rink and heading back to the heart of the market.
running into hande was an accident, honestly something that oriana probably should’ve tried harder to avoid given the last time that hande’s name had been printed in the rumor mill. but when they saw her, looking at baby clothes nonetheless, well, they couldn’t just walk away. they adjusted their scarf a little, pulled down their hat, all in the hope to obscure their identity a little before they approached her. “it’s green, i think that’s fine. isn’t green your thing anyway? plants and all?”
( 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 ) — oriana’s place, 200b at the junction of diagon alley & knockturn alley
( 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ) — closed
( 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ) — “ forgive me if i’m a little skeptical. ”
( 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ) — cho chang ( @indemnae ) !!
“cho, it’s a great idea.” there was no giant conspiracy style board hung on the wall—no pictures hastily cut out, no red string on the wall, and no scribbled words written. but it was a near thing, and they might break out something similar soon. “parkinson isn’t going to have a halloween party this year. i mean she might but it would look bad, you know? blaise is about to become a dad. besides she did it last year. it would be tired and tacky.” they spoke with a confidence they had not earned, fueled by the pile of energy drinks at their feet. “but they’re definitely going to do something. so. here me out. i break into their house and see if i can find a follow up to the blaise-hande baby debacle.”
( 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 ) — coffee shop, muggle london
( 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ) — closed
( 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ) — “ this has been fun , as always . ”
( 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ) — lavender brown ( @hoggleswart ) !!
oriana paid for lavender’s coffee whenever they met up. it was a small price to pay, really. every time they met up, be it at whatever event oriana had snuck into or at semi-regular meetings like this, they left with at least three new article ideas. “i wouldn’t be able to do what i do without out you.” the veracity of what lavender told them couldn’t always be verified but that hadn’t stopped oriana yet. “honestly you are my second favorite source.”
‘ i feel like you’re trying to get under my skin ‘ @cvriousheart
“well i wasn’t,” dennis responded, instinctively taking a defensive approach as he folded his arms across his chest. deep down he knew that he wasn’t trying to annoy oriana, in fact, he sort of resented the the implication. he was just being himself and he’d finally learned not to apologize for just being himself. “maybe you should take a few deep breaths? go for a bit of fresh air?” he suggested with a shrug of his shoulders.
oriana was working on an article, something related to the prime minister race—slander against either candidate. they hadn’t decided on which yet. at dennis’s reply, they looked up, stopped typing. “right. so you are being annoying as shit.” they turned focused back on the typewriter and the click of the keys filled the air. “so, you know, stop. because one of us actually gets people to buy this shitty newspaper.” take a deep breath. go for a bit of fresh air. “i’m working. doing my job. are you sure you don’t need to go on a walk yourself?”
( 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 ) — 200b at the junction of diagon alley & knockturn alley
( 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ) — closed
( 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ) — oliver wood or whoever ( @qviddiitch ) !!
“this isn’t actually a shopfront.” oriana called out through the door. the sign that once read the name of the store was still on a post next to the door, even if the name had long since between covered up with layers of black paint, but that hadn’t stopped people from trying the locked door whenever they saw the lights on. they walked to the door, opened it just a crack, “go away.”
