emmeline & dirk | WALK IN THE PARK.
Students flooded out of the classroom talking excitedly among themselves while still eating pieces of Horace Slughorn carrot cake. The older gentleman in his early thirties slapped a large hand against Dirk Cresswell’s back hard, causing the sixth year Hufflepuff to fall forward slightly. He rubbed the back of his neck turning around while fixing his shoulder bag on to greet his favorite Professor with a kind smile.How’s everything, Cresswell?Dirk smiled, shrugged his broad shoulders while adjusting the strap of his bag on it. “Okay, Professor,” he said giving him an embarrassed grin staring down at the floor.I’m sensing a little more than okay,the man chuckled giving him another firm pat on the back. Dirk fell forward for the second time, he smiled once more running his palm through his chocolate curls of hair. He shrugged his shoulders for the final time watching as the man hurried behind his desk, filing some parchment on his desk with a wave of his wand. “Honestly, Professor, there isn’t anything new going on,” Slughorn chuckled before giving Dirk a quick wink.It’s alright, Cresswell, you don’t have to tell this o’fart. How’s the Gobbledegook?Gobbledegook was a language Dirk had picked on his second year at Hogwarts. Unlike the majority of witches and wizards around the school, Dirk was probably the only one at Hogwarts who could speak it fluently. It had come second nature to the Hufflepuff. “Well,” he started to say thinking over the question as he rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling. “It’s alright, I think it’s going alone quiet greatly. I just wished there was someone I could practice it with, you know?” Slughorn nodded grabbing a silver flask out of one of his desk drawers. He opened it up taking a swig as he flashed him a small smile. Perhaps tomorrow we can practice,he offered. Dirk gave him his last nod fixing his bag strap once more, “Sure, Professor,” he waved, “Goodnight.”Goodnight, Deidirek.
Dirk left the classroom, closing the door gently behind him. The young man huffed, taking in a large breath. Slughorn could be a handful but luckily Dirk was one of his favorite students and welcomed him as if he was his son. It was nice to have someone on your side, especially one that was adult. Dirk walked down the corridor, his footsteps echoing loudly on the marble floor as he turned the corner towards the staircase leading out of the dungeons. The Hufflepuff was tired, his back ached and he was hungry, carrot cake, although delicious it never satisfied his stomach. It grumbled with hungry causing him to stop mid-step. He wrinkled his nose turning his head towards the kitchen, perhaps a late night snack would do. He turned on his heels walking the opposite direction.
Dirk Cresswell, a friend to many yet so little knew of him. He kept his self and was rather good at being a wallflower. His closest friends truly knew him and loved his loyal, trusting, and geeky behavior. Dirk had very few enemies unless you counted the Slytherins, but they hated everyone who wasn’t pureblood. Many saw his blood status as unfortunate but Dirk saw it as a blessing, it meant he wasn’t ordinary, he wasn’t just one in a million. Even his older brother was a little envious of his magical ability and Dirk was normally the one who was always jealous of his older, handsomer, smarter, and married brother. He had never told anyone but Dirk secretly wished to be married to a beautiful woman who was more than happy to have his children. It was such a girlish fantasy, he knew this, which is why he never mention it to anyone. Although to complete a dream like that he’d had to find a woman to look at him first. Dating was Dirk’s strongest suit and although he liked to date around, he was more of a long lasting relationship guy. Of course he wanted to wait until after Hogwarts to discuss the idea of marriage to anyone.
He walked around the final corner, stopping abruptly feeling something warm and soft squish in front of him. A soft gasp escaped his lips as he took a step back rubbing the spot on his chest that was hit. It was a girl, a pretty, dark haired, pale skinned girl with a book in her hand. Dirk smirked, her nose buried in a book it always seemed. “Hello, Emmeline,” he greeted her fixing the front of his robes. “Are you alright?” He asked taking a step back. Emmeline Vance, a bookish Ravenclaw whom he got along fairly well with. “I didn’t see you there,” he admitted holding out his hand offering to carry her books.
stormborns
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gracieabrams
romaincrisis
