Gwenog

Gwenog Jones. 6th Year. Ravenclaw. If you're looking for me, check the pitch. If you're looking for my cousin, you should probably still check the pitch.

[gwensjones]

AD LUCEM TASK: Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, AU

you may have your place among the twelve, written in the stars and the history books. but mortality, girl, was always something you understood (after all, who draws the blood? who strikes the kill? who watches the light fade?)

x.

[gwensjones]

Gwenog Jones: Social Media AU

i want to apologize to all the women i have called beautiful before i’ve called them intelligent or brave i am sorry i made it sound as though something as simple as what you’re born with is all you have to be proud of when you have broken mountains with your wit

[gwensjones]

Gwen was spread out in the courtyard with papers scattered around her. Diagrams for quidditch plays, a forgotten charms essays, parchment that was more sketches than notes were all held down by her bag or her wand or a butterbeer bottle. Her attention had long since drifted, however, and she was preoccupied in watching the clouds or the students that were passing by. 

It wasn’t until a shadow passed over her papers that she finally looked up. “Joining me then, or just admiring the view?”

[gwensjones]

carlitazabini:

Carlita was a grumpy person by nature. Most people knew her as an ice queen, or as The Bitch, and knew that they had to be careful around her. People tested her often, during the afternoon, but no one ever tested her in the morning. Everyone in Hogwarts knew that Carlita Zabini was not to be bothered in the morning, or else you would end up like poor Roger Matthews, who didn’t leave the Hospital Wing for a month.

The main reason for Carlita’s extreme grumpiness was because the Great Hall had shitty coffee. During the summer, she was an incredibly amazing person, but when she was at school, she was a total bitch.

That particular day was an especially shitty one, and she could barely process who had spoken to her as she stumbled out of the door leading to the Ravenclaw Common Room. She blinked a few times before seeing Gwenog, her roommate, and second favourite person in the world. After herself, of course.

“Mmm your voice is so hot in the morning.” She muttered sleepily, used to constantly flirting with her equally gay roommate. Her eyes closed for a second too long, before she snapped them open. “Oh fuck, we have double potions today.” She grumbled, running a hand through her hair. “Let’s get some fucking coffee.” She said, attempting to smile

Despite how much Gwenog did not want to be awake, she couldn’t help but smile. “Careful, Zabini,” she offered, grabbing her hand to tuck it in her arm. “You’re going to give a girl ideas, and we’ve got places to be today.” She wrestled down a yawn and pushed the hair out of her face as they made their way through the corridor. “Whoever thought double potions first thing was a good idea clearly isn’t thinking about student success. I bet it was Dumbledore, the bastard.” 

On normal occasions, Gwenog would hardly be considered grump but in this instance it seemed deserved. She’d reserve any grumpiness for Slughurn’s class, however, and try to enjoy the coffee venture with Carlita. “I have barely seen you since the masquerade,” she said, nudging her. “You didn’t get up to too much fun without me, did you?”

The closer the pair came to the kitchens, the more Gwenog longed for coffee and to not go to potions. Reaching out to tickle the pear, she considered just how much she didn’t want to spend the next two hours in fumes and staring at Slughorn. 

Holding the portrait open for her friend, Gwenog bit her lip thoughtfully. “What do you think, Zabini? If I were to fall uncontrollably ill right now, wouldn’t you have to take care of me? It would only be the right thing to do. It would just be a shame if neither of us could get to potions today.”

[gwensjones]

After wrestling the bludgers back into place in the trunk, Gwenog turned around and cheerfully summoned her bag from the stands. She caught the bag with one hand, while the other was using her wand to siphon away the blood from her recently episkeyed nose. Once her face was fairly presentable, she began to dump the contents from her expanded bag onto the ground. Blankets, firewhiskey, fudge, and bags of assorted honeydukes tumbled out - the usual essentials after a quidditch game.

She glanced over her shoulder at Greer, who was returning after setting aside their brooms. Tossing one of the blankets to her, she grinned. “Just a nose and a couple of fingers, Nott? Sure you’re not losing your touch?”

@greernotdear

[gwensjones]

Gwenog was not naturally a morning person. This may have been due in part to her tendency to never go to bed at what a morally acceptable person would call a decent hour, but she accepted responsibility for that. Regardless, it meant getting up for class was a daily trial (that she didn’t always succeed at). Breakfast in the Great Hall generally required getting up earlier than she wished, and somehow they never had the good kind of coffee - the kind that was likely the equivalent to just taking straight shots of caffeine, admittedly. For that, she had to go to the kitchens.

But this was why, thirty minutes before class, she stood outside the Ravenclaw common room waiting for Carlita. Double potions was not something she was going to endure without that coffee and she had decided to sweep away her roommate for the adventure.

She was still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes when the portrait hole opened. “Oh good, you’re up. I wanted to run by the kitchens,” she said, gesturing down the hall, voice still slightly rough from sleepiness. “If I’m going to have to hear Slughorn talk about leeches and boomslang skin, I’m going to need coffee.”

@carlitazabini

[gwensjones]

November had started in a blur of tension, quidditch practice, and what probably should have included more homework. Behind as she frequently was, she hadn’t heard about what had happened until a few days after the fact.  Her head whirled with the events of the last few weeks. The stress had settled itself into her shoulders, and she needed something to do that didn’t involve Transfiguration or worrying over Hestia.

For lack of any better ideas of what she could do, she had sent her owl off to Evan with a note.

Meet me on the 7th floor, by Barnabus the Barmy. - Jones

She’d finished her pacing, beaters bats under her arm, when she finally heard him approach. “Took you long enough,” she smiled in greeting.

@caligula-mulciber

[gwensjones]

vcnityemma:

A peal of laughter left Emma’s lips at Gwenog’s teasing. “Let someone steal my glory? Merlin, Jones, have you forgotten what Slytherin is all about?” She teased in return as she squeezed her tighter for just a moment before she let her legs fall and she dropped smoothly to the ground, bare feet against the cold floor. She ran her hands through her hair, posing. “Slytherin would be a lost cause without me, I deserve all the glory.” She teased, “And anyway, Macey and Ludo should just be happy I haven’t chewed them out yet. Ludo, especially. What is with fourth years and not following directions?” She sighed dramatically, as if she was much better. 

She bent down, lifting up two mugs of butterbeer and passed one toward Gwenog. She raised hers in toast. “To Slytherin victories and Badgers who play too fairly for their own good.” She giggled as she held the mug up, “And also, in sympathy for the crushing defeat Ravenclaw will face next month. I love you princess, but I am going to destroy your hopes of being champions this year. Don’t worry though, I’ll support you crushing Potter and Tonks.” She grinned, teasing in the way they always had. She brought the mug to her lips, amused, and fully expecting trash talk to be returned. That was how they worked. 

Smiling, Gwenog turned around and laughed at the sight of Emma’s pose. “Well, I certainly can’t argue with you there,” she teased. “But you could at least give them the kindness of letting them play.” She rolled her eyes at the mention of the fourth years. Merlin, that she understood. “At least if I keep Caradoc far from Stebbins and put a bat in his hands, he usually does what I tell him to.” She nudged the other girl with an elbow. “Promise me we were never that bad?” She pleaded lightly.

Happily taking her mug, she returned the toast. “And may Tonks never learn the value of a few stretched rules.” Raising an eyebrow, she clanked her mug against Emma’s. “Oh, I’ll let you live in your fantasy tonight, love, since it is your night. But come morning I won’t let you keep living in your delusion, it just isn’t healthy,” she offered sympathetically, but an amused gleam in her eyes. She grinned, however, as she pictured facing off against Potter and Tonks on the pitch. “But at least where the other teams are concerned, I’m glad we can agree.”

[vcnityemma-blog]

@gwensjones

Emma winced as she was pushed again, the quaffle tightly grasped as she caught the blur of what could only be Mulciber. She heard the bludger whiz, trying to deter Cresswell from flying so close to her. The sharp crack against the broom brought a smile to her lips as she tilted to the side, dipping down, down, down. Her stomach flipped as she did. She ignored Cresswell’s sharp cry as he tumbled off his broom. It was his own fault, he should have known better than to try to box Emma in, especially with her favorite rule breaker keeping a close eye. 

She rolled into her broom, clutching the quaffle still as she redirected her path straight for the goals. Ted Tonks. The badger team was infested with muggleborns, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that what Evan had commented on before the match? She narrowed her eyes, ignoring the thought as she headed for the goal. She threw the quaffle up, turning so that the back of her broom smacked it, the ball sailing toward the goal. “Vanity scores! Ten points for Slytherin!” It was her favorite sound second only to–”REGULUS BLACK HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! SLYTHERIN WINS!” 

Her eyes darted across the pitch as a grin broke out across her lips. Yes, baby Black. Way to use the distraction. She could kiss him. The grin remained on her lips as she took the stairs to the astronomy two at a time. She’d celebrated with her House already, endless cheers, endless chants, and too many rib shattering hugs to count. She felt valuable. She felt invincible, just like every time Slytherin won a match. Sixth year was looking like the year. She made her way into the astronomy tower, her grin turning to something more playful at the sight of dark hair. She didn’t even pause as she pushed her feet off the ground, hopping up onto Gwenog’s back, her arms wrapped around her neck. The rival Quidditch captain was a rival first and foremost, but when their matches were against other houses they could be one another’s best ally. “Vanity scores! Ten points to Slytherin!” She sang, a bubble of laughter leaving her lips as she locked her legs around Gwenog’s waist. Gwenog was a bit taller than her, but both of them were small spitfires. She shifted her weight, her shoes slipping from her feet as she held on to her. “Slytherin wins.” She grinned. 

[gwensjones]

In the stands, Gwenog had been practically throttling Caradoc’s hand as she cheered. She was faithful to Ravenclaw through and through, but she was a loyal supporter in other matches. Her loyalties were split in this game, with Emma as Slytherin’s captain and her cousin as Hufflepuff’s seeker. She’d cheer them both, however, even if she’d be doing her best to knock them off their brooms when it came Ravenclaw’s turn to face off against the other teams. She watched the green figures racing through the air, trying to keep track of it all. Emma had the quaffle, but Regulus seemed to have his attention elsewhere and her cousin hadn’t noticed yet. 

She barely had time to cheer for Vanity, before she heard the words that signaled the end of the game.  Her disappointment for Hestia was tapered by her excitement for her friend, and she was making herself hoarse with her cheers. 

After the match, she’d met her cousin in the kitchens - as was their tradition when one of them had lost a match - for butterbeers, commiserating, and constructive critique. After dropping Hestia at the Hufflepuff common room, she grabbed an armful of butterbeers and made her way to the astronomy tower for her next post game tradition.

She’d only been up for a few minutes, bottles forgotten on the ground as she searched for familiar constellations (she’d been terrible at astronomy first year), when she was half tackled from behind and a familiar voice was cheering in her ear. Laughing, she patted the Slytherin’s arm. “Congrats, Vanity. You earned it. Merlin, you need to let your other chasers get some of the glory sometime,” she teased. “Macey and Ludo looked positively bored up there.”

[gwensjones]

The sun was warm on Gwenog’s back where she was spread out near the pitch. She’d escaped one of her afternoon classes (it was healthy to miss sometimes, she maintained), in favor of finding her way outside with an apple, a flask of pumpkin juice, and her strategy diagrams for the next game. Parchment was spread around her, held down with a spell so it didn’t fly away. Her quill was in her teeth as she prodded the diagrams with her wand, watching the little figures move through the formations. 

Seeing the shadow fall over her parchment, she pulled the quill from between her teeth and looked up with a hint of a smile. “You know, technically, this is class hours. What’s your excuse?”