greek goddess

hestia calliope jones - fith year - gryffindor odds are i'm smarter than you

[hes-ti-a]

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[hes-ti-a]

heavenly-hellion :

Cassius eyed up Hestia, his shoulders slumping as he rested his head against the wall. The girl who found the key, and was ‘supposedly’ the cause for the commons rooms getting trashed. Believing she’d been lucky enough to get the key and win it was hard enough; he didn’t think people were as so dense to think this skittish looking little girl could mastermind such a feat. “Talk of the town, huh? What’s celebrity life like? I hear it’s draining,” he let out a soft laugh, crossing his arms.  

“Don’t let the attention get to your head. I hear narcissism is a real killer. Though I’m sure hating yourself doesn’t bode well either. Double edged sword.” He spoke as if he wasn’t absolutely in love with himself. Though his words were still unkind and prodding, his voice lacked the usual edge of venom. 

     Hestia had often wandered how it was possible for such a young boy to speak as if he’d seen the worst nightmares that their world held, and this time was no exception, for with a mere look into his eyes the brunette could see how cold his soul was. A shudder ran down her spine at his speech: the fact that he used words such as celebrity made her feel sick all of a sudden. She hadn’t wanted any of this.

     “That’s rich, coming from you” she said simply, knowing it was a tad risky to act in such a careless manner without anyone else around. She was smart and blunt, but not stupid; despite the fact that was thought [ and knew ] she was a great dueler, there was no denying the boy had some tricks up his lseeve that would put her to shame. “I think I’m handling it very well” she concluded, eyeing him knowingly.

[hes-ti-a]

[ porcelain goddess ]

[hes-ti-a]

heavenly-hellion :

Cassius hadn’t slept again last night; he’d figured it would be this way. With everyone shitting themselves over the tournament and the trashed common rooms, the whole castle was buzzing. It was too hard to sleep through all that noise, all those people running around. He’d made it through his morning class without passing out, but he could tell he was getting tired. 

He didn’t even want to try and navigate the mess that the common room was, so he settled for a quiet hall. At least he could sit down and close his eyes. Mulciber doubted he’d actually fall asleep. Sitting on the floor near a dead end suited the boy well enough, so he sat and watched dust dance about in the shafts of light coming from a nearby window. Just a moment of quiet. 

Though it wouldn’t last. Mulciber glanced up when someone walked down the hall, staring at them for a few moments. When they actually stopped near him, he looked up them, expression rather vacant. 

“Coming down the road less traveled?”

     Hestia simply needed to stay away from everyone else. Sure, she always prefered solitude to company, but it had gotten worse over the last several days, for the usually noisy Great Hall and corridors had now escalated to deafening, not to mention the ridiculous amoung of snark comments she had gotten while simply walking toward class.

     She, who had always been one to keep to herself and stay out of people’s business, now seemed to be a name in everyone’s mounth: depending on who you asked, she was either the chick who found the key and then misplaced it, or the reason why the Common Rooms had been trashed in the fisrt place. There was no way out. 

     So when she had to choose a path toward her next class, Hestia opted for the less travelled one [ also the longest ] in order to be by herself, as least for a moment. She should have known that wish wouldn’t be granted to her either, for she soon found herself looking at another figure, a student sitting with their back against the wall. 

     “It would seem so” she replied with a wary tone of voice, as she finally recognized Cassius Mulciber as the speaker.

[hes-ti-a]

marleneofmckinnon :

Emmeline, Emmeline, Emmeline! the whispers had chanted, words carried through the breeze like rustling leaves, and Marlene considered the game to have been won; the Ravenclaw wouldn’t dare let that key out of her iron grip. It shocked her when another name was called upon her entering the Great Hall : Hestia, Hestia, Hestia! A fifth year from her own house of lions had snatched it for herself, but the evening was not yet done with surprises.

Common rooms ravaged, key lost or stolen or simply misplaced - they said it opened a chest, although Marlene had bet on a room - and thus attention was stolen away from the victory. Rather than the celebration Marlene anticipated, Gryffindor was met with banishment. And so when she saw the wandering champion on the grounds the next day, she thought she would say something lost in the noise.

“Well,” Marlene began, a warm smile curving her lips, “I’m here to say congratulations, just in case no one else has yet. Let’s ignore all that other nonsense for a moment and appreciate that you’ve won us a ton of points that, admittedly, I’ll probably lose us throughout the course of the year. I’ll try my very best not to, scout’s honor.”

     Hestia put her book down as she heard the oh so familiar voice of Marlene McKinnon. Truth be told, she wasn’t the greatest fan of the blonde, mostly because as a prefect she’d found herself in situations in which she had had to clean up other people’s messes, and Marlene [ and Sirius ] were alarmingly high on that list. 

     But it never hurt to have someone congratulate you, she figured, even if it was in such a tragic situation and with so many glances being short their way at all times; Hestia had only allowed Charity to congratulate her formally, for she wanted nothing to do with the spotlight that came with the destruction of the other Common Rooms.

     “Please make an effort not to lose them too quickly” she replied, purposefully not thanking the girl, for she wanted to forget everything about that night in the forest. “Although, I know that might not be a very fair thing to ask from you, for I reckon other prefects will be very keen to take points from any of us lions.”

[hes-ti-a]

     The whole situation was out of the ordinary. Not only had she won the key, and thus a handful of House Points, but the key had been lost and all Common Rooms but hers, destroyed. She knew she hadn’t done anything; someone must have thoguht it was a fun idea to mess with the rest of the Houses, but Hestia was not that person. The situation was far from amusing, for now the other students cussed their way as they walked past them and gave them nasty looks. 

     Hestia had decided, once again, to stay away from the conflict, for she didn’t want in the constant fight between Houses and this seemed to be one more opportunity for just that. She was taking a walk around the grounds, alone as she always did, with a book floating in front of her face as she read carefully through the pages, when she saw someone approaching her from the corner of her eye. Without tearing her gaze away from the book, she spoke.

     “Do you need anything?”

[hes-ti-a]

vengefulvance :

Of all the people Emmeline might have expected to give her trouble out here, Hestia had not been particularly high on the list. The other girl was one that rarely seemed to get involved in these kinds of circumstances. But then, what was it that people said about the quiet ones? Maybe it was more foolish on Emmeline’s part to have not been thinking of everyone and everything in the forest as an equal threat.

“And why would I do that now?” She asked, not giving any indication of backing down. She was never one for giving up, especially when she was already so close to victory. If Hestia or anyone else wanted to get the key off of her, they had better not expect she was about to just give it up without a hell of a fight. And fight was something Emmeline always had more than her fair share of.

Emmeline was moving almost as soon as the word left Hestia’s lips, diving to the ground to dodge the spell. Her hair and clothes were already a mess, having been torn on the ground and caught on branches several times throughout the night. “Expelliarmus!” She called back, struggling to aim from where she was and just hoping to get herself a chance to disappear into the woods again.

     Hestia had to keep herself from actually rolling her eyes at Emmeline. ‘Why would I do that?’ the other had asked; such a silly question, given the circumstances. But Hestia knew better than to give a sarcastic remark as a reply; she knew how to work others into exhaustion, and thir current scenery gave her the upper hand, or so she thought.

     Her wand was now quicker than before, as it moved to cast a non-verbal shield charm in front of her own figure. A laugh bubbled up from Hestia’s chest as the other’s spell hit the shield she had performed and was immediately shot back at Emmeline.

     She could see the other was trying to escape, but just as Emmeline would give the key up without a fight, Hestia wouldn’t give up the chance to get the key because the other was too tired to fight back. She should have thought about that before challenging Hestia. “Going somewhere?” she called at the other, waiting for the protego charm to fade off in the air before pointing her wand at the other. “Accio key” she spoke; it was a long shot, bbut she had to at least try.

[hes-ti-a]

nxrcissx--blxck :

At the response that she received, Narcissa’s smile grew wider. It was so satisfying to hear the girl before her try and bit out a retort, especially when she knew that she was the person in the position of power. Shaking her head as though scolding a small child, Narcissa twirled her wand between her first three fingers, the light of it illuminating the both of them as well as the ground they stood on and the trees that surrounded them. 

“Now now, there’s no need to be rude. I was just trying to help after all,” she said, though the malice in her voice proved that this was far from the truth. “But I suppose it is good that you know how many feet you have. If you want a challenge, I’m sure I could alter the number for you. You could count them again and you’d get a completely different number!” Her voice was ringing with a malicious laughter that was hooded by feigned politeness.

“I mean, you can’t possibly think that you’re going to get the key from that Vance girl, do you? If anyone’s going to get it from her, it’ll be someone who isn’t afraid to fight a little dirty.”

     A shudder washed over her body as Narcissa spoke again; the other had a way with words that had very strong effects on Hestia, and she loathed herself for not being able to put an end to it. The fact that the blonde felt so at ease when taunting her made Hestia sick, for she knew fighting back wasn’t her strongest suit and it would only end in more humilliation. And she couldn’t have that.

     “I like my feet the way they are, thank you very much” she retorted, her gaze flickering all over the other’s face, but not settling on any specific spot, for the anxiety the other provoked caused the need to move in her. The only hint of malice in Narcissa’s voice made her cringe, for she knew if the other decided to raised her wand at her, she stood littleto no chance. Hestia was good-- Hell, she was great at Dueling, but the Black sister seemed to drain the energy from her whenever she was around, and she was never able to fight properly back.

     The rest of the girl’s words brough a bitter taste to her mouth, for she did think she could get the key from Emmeline. That was the point of entering the tournament, anyway, and she knew her skills could, eventually, get her there, but it would certainly become a lot of a tougher task if Narcissa didn’t let her go that easily; and she never did. “I’m not afraid” Hestia told the other, although a laugh echoed in her mind at her own words. If she wasn’t afraid, why as she stil trembling?

[hes-ti-a]

alwayscelestial :

      She was so modest. And so calm. And so—not him. She was everything he was not; where he was extroverted, she was introverted; where he would gloat endlessly and obnoxiously, she would modestly refrain from claiming any glory; where he would surround himself as often and with as much company as possible, she preferred solitude. Sirius didn’t think he’d quite get on with someone who was his polar opposite, but he found himself rather intrigued by the girl and the almost natural ease with which they complemented one another.

      Eyes bright with curiosity, he watched her as she matched each of his steps forward with a step back of her own. He hadn’t quite realized what a riddled enigma the girl was until now. How could someone so small and dainty and quiet wield her wand with such talent and fearlessness? “Let me get this straight,” he said, speaking more to himself than to her as he moved in front of the quiet Gryffindor, completely invading her personal and waving his hands around as he spoke, clearly trying make sense of the situation. “You’ve got not a single qualm about blasting an entire bloody colony of acromantulas into another dimension, but you can’t stomach spending more than a few minutes with any one of your housemates?” he asked, incredulity practically dripping from his voice as he tossed his hand up in the air. “Unbelievable,” he mused, marveling at the girl before him. “Doesn’t make a lick of sense, if y’ ask me.”

      “How ‘bout I thank you by not letting you frolic through the Forbidden Forest all by your little lone self,” he suggested, his face aglow with playful mischief. “I’m sure you’re just itching to ditch me, little loner, but I think keeping some company—even my company—is in your best interest right now. Godric only knows what other little beasts this hellhole is teeming with.” Tilting his head to the side, a teasing smile twitching his lips, he asked, “Think you can find the nerve to spend time with another living person for more than ninety seconds, Jones?” The proposition was equal halves challenge and jest, his words meant to goad her into agreeing to spend just enough time with him for him to begin to unravel the riddle that she was. “Come on, mouse—live a little.”

     She could only imagine what he was thinking: his eyes studied her face and body, and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t seen that look on other students’ faces. He was most probably wondering how that amount of knowledge and strength fit into that tiny body of hers. Hestia wasn’t a big fan of people observing her, for she felt rather awkward under someone else’s gaze, but for some reason the fact that it was Sirius Black who looked at her so curiously made her feel empowered.

     She listened quietly as he spoke ( clearly, he did that often ), moving his hands around restlessly; it was clear that he thought very highly of himself. It wasn’t anything he said that made her realize that, but rather the shocking contrast between how she thought the situation should be handled and how he faced it. The list of differences between them was extremely long, and Hestia was sure he was aware of that. “It’s not that I can’t stomach spending time with others” she spoke quietly, mostly because she was beyond used to being asked the same question -- or, well, something similar. “I simply choose not to” she continued, again taking a step back as she realized how scaringly close he had gotten. Her big eyes looked up at him curiously, though, as she added, “I didn’t ask you, though.”

     Even his sentences sounded obnoxious and pompous, and Hestia had to hold herself from rolling her eyes at him; he was making it sound as if spending her time with him would be a smart investment, while she thought it to be quite a waste of her valuable time. A laugh bubbled up from her chest as he continued to speak, not measuring how the other would percieve such reaction. “You reckon I’m scared of what other creatures I might encounter?” she asked him, amusedly. “Must I remind you who saved whose ass just a few moments ago, Black?” she added, an entertained smile still shadowing over her lips. He spoke with such a challenging tone, all she wanted to do was turn around and walk away, for his presence was getting suffocating, even if they were out in the open. “I suppose I could stick around for a little while, if that makes you feel safer” she concluded, crossing her arms over her chest.

[alwayscelestial-blog]

✎

✎ = speaking in a different language

    “Whatcha doin’?” Sirius asked in a (very obviously bored) singsong voice as he grabbed a chair from the library table Hestia occupied and flipped it backwards, taking a seat and resting his forearms on the chair’s back. “Well, this is what studying looks like, Sirius,” Jones replied matter-of-factly, not even sparing him a sideways glance as her eyes devoured the text in her hands. “Not that you would know.” He chuckled heartily, her blunt nature and dry humor never failing to amuse him. “The term is almost over, Jones. What could you possibly be studying?” he asked as he reached across the table and snatched the book from her hands, ignoring her cry of protest. “Wh—you’re not even studying for classes! This is a French dictionary!” he exclaimed a bit too loudly, earning some nasty glares from nearby students. “So? I like the language!” she grumbled defensively, reaching across the table to pry the book out of his hands. “Merlin. I can’t believe you’re sitting in the library studying for leisure. Unbelievable,” he said, his voice practically dripping with disbelief.

    “Va te faire foutre,” she muttered under her breath as she flipped through the pages of the book, obviously frustrated with the task of trying to find the page she was last on before Sirius had torn the text from her hands. Sirius smiled at the familiar sound of the language and his wandering mind was immediately transported to memories of Black family dinners, during which he and Cissy would often use the language to exchange secret messages and insults. He had to admit that the language sounded like absolute honey on the girl’s tongue, and it was evident that Hestia had a natural talent for French. Sirius was immediately hooked on the sound—completely entranced by it—and when Sirius found something he liked, he most always found a way to get more of it.

    When she looked at him with round eyes filled with surprise and expectancy, he merely shrugged. “I’m a Black. You’d be hard-pressed to find any Sacred Twenty-Eight kid who isn’t fluent in at least one Romance language.” He paused, his eyebrows shooting upward as a mischievous smile graced his lips. “I could help you, y’know—teach you all the fluency tricks. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be able to write that damn book yourself,” he said, nodding at the French dictionary in her hands. “For the small, small price of one week’s worth of Herbology notes,” he suggested mirthfully, his eyes dancing with trouble. She pursed her lips, the lines of her face hardening slightly as she sank into what appeared to be deep thought. “Deal,” she said after a full minute of thought, holding out her hand to finalize the transaction. Sirius laughed and took her hand, giving it a theatrically firm, business-like shake. Hestia, he knew, would be a quick study, and he decided that it might be nice to have a partner to exchange secret French messages with again.

[hes-ti-a]

☂+

☂ = giving them their jumper to keep warm

    She wasn’t precisely what people called social; other students looked at her weird and she knew that, and she’d learned to live with it. She was used to being alone, at least whenever her small group of friends was busy, catching up with the work she had already done herself; she particularly enjoyed taking walks by the edge of the Forbidden Forest, for she had found it was a quiet placce and not very frequented.

    She was genuinely surprised to find none other than Evan Rosier, walking alone through the same path she usually took; at first, she was wary of the boy, for she thought coincidences didn’t exist and he might have been there to make her miserable, but as minutes went by and all he seemed to do was walk and take long drags from his cigars, Hestia calmed down and continued her way.

    He had started a few feet ahead of her, though she was now catching up to him; it was only then that she noticed the boy had his wand out and had cast a small fireball on the tip of it. He wasn’t wearing a coat over his robes, and he– he was trembling. The sight made Hestia snort, perhaps a bit too loudly; she was good, actually carrying an extra jumper in her arms, for her robes and coat kept her warm enough already. “Don’t mention this to anyone” was all she told him, without even greeting him first; she let her jumper rest on his shoulders to warm him up, before picking up her speed and simply walking away.

[hes-ti-a]

vengefulvance :

If Emmeline could see herself in a mirror right now, she would probably be freaking out right now. Her hair and clothes were a mess from getting caught on trees or tripping over roots as she ran. It made the usually very neat and collected girl look almost unrecognizable. Right now though, she could hardly think too much about that right now. For now, all she could think about was just getting out of here with the key still tucked safely in her pocket. Though half the time, she couldn’t even be sure she was going to right way. All of the endless trees looked the same and there seemed to be no break in sight.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep running. It seemed as if she had been going non-stop with no end in sight and was beginning to feel the exhaustion it brought on. Hearing another call her name left her a bit annoyed at herself, considering how hard she had been trying to avoid being caught off guard.

She turned quickly, wand held tightly and defensively in one of her hands. “Hestia.” She replied, voice unwavering and head held high as she met the other girl’s eyes. “And just what might that be?”

    Hestia wasn’t a girl whose voice people got to hear very often; she’d rather stay away from others and remain silent. But when she set her eyes on a price, there wasn’t much to be done to stop her from getting what she wanted. A genuine giggle bubbed up from deep down her throat as the other girl questioned her. What might that be? Hestia repeated in her head, her head shaking shortly.

    “Give me the key, Emmeline” the girl said, making sure she was as clear as she could possible be, for she wanted everything to be over already. Even if her face showed nothing but certainty and complete seriousness, Hestia was far from at ease, for her knees were bruised and her fingers were numb, and all she wanted was to be back at the castle. But not before proving she could do this.

    With a sharp movement of her wand, Hestia pointed at the other girl and called ‘Stupefy’. Although she knew how to cast the spell, for she’d practiced it too many times to count, she knew she was weaker than when the whole tournament had started, and the odds of hitting the other were slim, but she had to try. 

[hes-ti-a]

❛  Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing. ❜

a gryffindor house aesthetic.

[hes-ti-a]

❛ wit beyond measure is a--  oh, sod off. ❜

a hestia jones aesthetic.

[alvctc]

↱

↱ = being lost with them .

It was late, and not worth mentioning aloud because stating the obvious was one of her biggest pet peeves, she wouldn’t annoy herself just to make small talk. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, Gladys was no hero, she wasn’t the kind of person that went around rescuing lost souls but it had simply happened and she couldn’t argue. The fifth year had appeared distressed, Hestia was her name, Gladys knew the girl as they were in the same house but that was as far as their familiarity went. Fog began to roll through the faraway hills, this village wasn’t one Gladys frequented but she’d never truly been lost, especially at night when she had the stars to guide her. No one understood why she wanted to take Astronomy and Divination to NEWT level and she never felt like explaining it.

A shiver from behind made her stop, turn to face the smaller girl. “You’re cold.” It wasn’t a question and before Hestia could protest Gladys had removed her jumper and passed it to her, no refusal allowed was clearly implied. Gladys knew what it was to be cold, frightened, she didn’t wish it on anyone even if her peers would never say she was the most empathetic person around. Empathy is something one could learn, Gladys had it in spades but her logic often clouded her emotional judgement. This of course meant many kept their distance from the seemingly abrasive girl and this had never bothered her. Especially now, in a time of war, Gladys didn’t want any new friends she’d lay awake at night worrying about, she needed sleep.

A soft wind brushed over her skin, raising goosepimples and sending a chill down her spine. Reluctantly, and with as much annoyance as she could falsely muster she slowed down enough that she and Hestia were walking side by side. Gladys moved so their arms were touching, the fleece of her jumper warmed her and she realized too late she shouldn’t have given it away. In no time at all, and with very little conversation, they were back at the small estate home Hestia was staying in. “Hope your family wasn’t too worried.” She mumbled, averting her eyes as the girl removed her jumper and handed it back. “No need for thank yous or apologies, just get inside.” Her words halted the ones Hestia was likely thinking of using, and she bounced away into the warmth and safety of the building. Gladys replaced her jumper on her torso, grinding her teeth as she imagined Hestia reuniting with her worried family. It made her mind go to thoughts of Davey and she stomped off with the memory she hadn’t written him in weeks.

[hes-ti-a]

♬

♬ = singing to them

    Hestia’s hands ran repeatidely over her face as she struggled to stay focused on her notes; there was someone playing a bloody guitar right outside the library, and it was getting on her last nerves. OWLs were right around the corner and she was the only one who seemed to have noticed, for none of her classmates appeared to be paying any attention to their shared classes.

    Finally giving in with a groan, Hestia shut her books closed and pushed her chair away from the desk, forecefuly. The girl swung the window open and glanced angrily at the group of students right across from it. 

    “Oi, shut it, will you!” she called at them, before she even recognized their faces. Her expression changed when she saw a fellow Prefect, none other than Gladys Gudgeon. The other’s smile was radiant and instant as the boy beside her strummed the guitar chords.

    “Oh, Hestia! Don’t make it bad, take a sad song and make it bett–” the other girl’s voice died out when Hestia shut the window once more, a loud groan leaving her lips. How was she supposed to study when everyone else seemed to be consipiring against her?  

[hes-ti-a]

@vengefulvance

    Hestia was exhausted to say the least, and the fact that she hadn’t run into Emmeline at all was not helping either. She had encountered the whole Black family and there was still no sign of the girl, Hestia thought to herself with a groan. She continued to push her way through the maze of trees that they called forest, secretly wondering if maybe she had gone too far off and there weren’t any more students around that area. It wasn’t a crazy thing to wonder, for she hadn’t seen anyone in a while, now that the came to think about it.

    And then the light became brighter. It was almost blinding, and the brunette had to narrow her eyes for a moment to adjust to the new-found glow. It must have been a sign, Hestia told herself, for not long after, she identified another figure, not far from where she stood. “Emmeline” she spoke out loud, although it came out as a breathy gasp, for her throat was dry and sore.

    Taunting around into her pockets, Hestia held tightly onto her wand once she found it and raised her arm slowly towards the other. “I think you have something of mine” her words were now clearer, her tone sounded matter-of-factly and her whole expression had faded from fatigue to buoyancy.