Bart jumped again, fingernails just barely scraping the rolled parchment held high above him. His landing less than spectacular as he caught the edge of his robes and subsequently faceplanted.
Luckily, his bag held and items were still inside though, that was all the luck he had as his essays were in the hands of a ghost. And not just any ghost...
"Come off it Peeves! Give me my homework! I said please! I even said it repeatedly!" Bart sat up, rubbing his nose and the now reddening mark on his forehead.
"Poor Barty Barty Stoneface, shoulda' check his shoelace!" the Poltergeist cackled and flipped upside down with a mean grin.
Bart just looked to him with a pleading look, almost on the verge of tears. First he was tripped, then his homework stolen, now he was going to be late for class trying to get it back.
GRYFFINDOR:
[x] You’ve never done illegal drugs.
[] You have a lot of friends.
[x] You get along with everyone. (Try to at least)
[] You haven’t made fun of someone for at least two months.
[] You love soccer.
[] You love baseball.
[x] You’re into writing and art.
[x] Favorite music genre is pop/rock
[x] You believe in “innocent until proven guilty” theory.
[x] One of your favorite colors is red or gold.
[x] You get good grades at school.
[] One of the worst things you can do is lie.
[] You plan on going to college/university.
Total: 7
HUFFLEPUFF:
[] You’re content with mostly everything in your life right now.
[x] You laugh a lot.
[] You like to follow trends.
[x] Politics suck.
[x] You love to swim.
[] Water polo is awesome.
[] Pink is one of your favorite colors.
[] Black is morbid & depressing.
[] You’re an optimist.
[] You’re completely straight-edged.
[x] You’re very emotional.
[] Rap, R&B, & hip-hop is your favorite music genre.
[] You don’t believe in going steady at a young age.
[x] You've made fun of at least one person this week.
Total: 5
RAVENCLAW:
[] You’re depressed to a certain extent.
[x] You like to read.
[x] You appreciate theater & arts.
[] Sports suck.
[x] You’re shy.
[x] Loyalty is the MOST important thing in a relationship.
[] Hate is completely unneeded.
[] Indie is your favorite genre of music.
[x] Every once in a while you have little anger outbursts.
[x] Lying is sometimes okay.
[x] Blue is one of your favorite colors.
[] Serious is better than funny.
Total: 7
SLYTHERIN:
[x] There’s at least one person you hate.
[] Basketball is a good sport.
[] Football is amazing.
[] Black is a cool color.
[] You’ve lied about something serious.
[x] You’re a very deep person.
[x] You have considered suicide.
[x] Very loyal.
[x] You like metal.
[x] They make school seem more important than it is.
[] You’re scared to grow up.
[] You’ve done drugs in the past month.
[] Anger is one of your primary feelings.
[] You have trust issues.
[] Guilty until proven innocent.
Total: 6
Result: Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tie. I'm ok with this.
Tiran edges closer to the window with an arched brow, his expression a hard-to-read smirk. Could be annoyed, could be amused. Could be just a smirk. “Here ya go guy.” Tiran tosses the carving to Connor and heads down in a much safer manner.
Once down, he’d look around at the gathered students, most eyes on him, except for the higher years who were used to Tiran’s near habitual stunts. “Anyone find a knife?” he searched the crowd.
A blonde girl popped up and handed Tiran the knife. The blade was bent and grip had a nice crack along the edge of it, a few chips missing here and there. “Here you go Tir! Also when’re you gonna make your next run to Honeydukes? Our whole house is dry!” she huffed.
"I didn’t know Hufflepuff had s’many sweet tooths. I’ll try and make it soon Diana. Thanks for gettin’ the knife!" he nodded and headed back up, handing the knife to Connor.
"Looks like yer knife took a nasty spill. But, coulda’ been worse. Coulda’ been you. Careful now guy! " Tiran gave a more genuine smile this time.
He blinked as he was being examined by the freckled, red-haired boy, set somewhat aback by his demeanor. When he floated back down, Connor hurried to the window, looking back after him, curious. Something about him caught Connor’s attention. He observed as he saw the boy speaking with other students on the ground level. He couldn’t catch the conversation, but the tone of his voice was much…friendlier.
Upon his ascent, Connor rushed away from the window. He hope the other boy didn’t catch him staring - that would have been embarrassing. He started blushing thinking about it. By the time Tiran was back at the window, Connor has managed to pull his embarrassment from the front of his mind…until he spoke again in that friendly tone. He coughed, accepting the damaged knife and looking it over with a bit of a frown, “It’s alright, I ‘ave another. Jus’ wasn’ as good as this was.” He offered a hand - probably too excitedly - to Tiran, “Th-th’ name’s Connor, by the by. An’…thank ye’. Fer gettin’ it. THEM. Ye’ didn’ have ta’.” He attempted to avoid eye contact as much as possible.
Tiran gave a buck-toothed grin and nodded, taking Connor's hand and giving it a good few solid shakes with a firm grip. "Good ta meetcha Connor! Name's McQuillen. Tiran McQuillen. And no worries mate! Haven't had a dive like that since my second year in Quidditch! Was fun!"
He always wondered why the younger years were always so awkward and blushy. Was he like that? His early years at Hogwarts seemed to be a blur of candy, Weasley joke products and detention. That trophy room had a year-round shine to it...
"Just, try an' be more careful aye? Window sittin's not a good idea at this height 'less ya know Arresto Momentum." Tiran winked. "Seeya round Connor!" Tiran slipped the earbuds in and tapped his ipod a few times before pocketing it and readying to take off again.
The mighty expletive was not lost on Tiran, as he pushed his back leg down and reared his front knee up to pivot and turn much like a surfer would.
"Wha?" an earbud was yanked as he noticed the twinkle of a blade and something else rapidly approaching the ground. This was his moment!
Down he zipped, diving headlong towards the ground as if he were trying to race gravity itself, narrowing in on the carving, He winces as he puts all his effort into it, his Quidditch instincts kicking in with his range of awareness broadening.
There was a Hufflepuff face-planting into a book nearby like an ostrich.
A fellow Gryffindor was tossing up a last morsel of a pumpkin tart to catch in their mouth.
A crow spread it’s wings and took flight, whether from the expletive or Tiran’s descent was unknown.
Closer and closer he got, it was going to be a close one, or he would end up in Pomfrey’s with a scolding.
Closer…
Got it! Tiran tilted his broom at the last second, his long arms reaching to catch the rabbit a mere foot from the stones and zipping away as the knife clattered noisily below.
"Whoo!" He held the rabbit up like a prize, with a few students cheering and one patting a Gryffindor’s back who nearly choked on said pastry. "Now then, which window did you belong to?" he mutters while looking up to the tower.
Connor rushed over to the window after he regained his bearings, looking over the ledge to see if he could spot the knife and carving, hoping to all that is good in the world that neither struck anyone.
The boy riding the broom was holding the almost rabbit in his hands. Connor waved, trying to get his attention, “‘Ey! While you’re at it, would ya’ mind gettin’ my whittlin’ knife, too?”
Tiran edges closer to the window with an arched brow, his expression a hard-to-read smirk. Could be annoyed, could be amused. Could be just a smirk. "Here ya go guy." Tiran tosses the carving to Connor and heads down in a much safer manner.
Once down, he'd look around at the gathered students, most eyes on him, except for the higher years who were used to Tiran's near habitual stunts. "Anyone find a knife?" he searched the crowd.
A blonde girl popped up and handed Tiran the knife. The blade was bent and grip had a nice crack along the edge of it, a few chips missing here and there. "Here you go Tir! Also when're you gonna make your next run to Honeydukes? Our whole house is dry!" she huffed.
"I didn't know Hufflepuff had s'many sweet tooths. I'll try and make it soon Diana. Thanks for gettin' the knife!" he nodded and headed back up, handing the knife to Connor.
"Looks like yer knife took a nasty spill. But, coulda' been worse. Coulda' been you. Careful now guy! " Tiran gave a more genuine smile this time.
Bright blue eyes opened widely when the brick shuffled away to reveal this oh so magical place. Tiran swore he would commit this day to memory, the sights, the smells, all of it! The hustle and bustle of witches and wizards all going about their business were around him. If it weren't for the fact that he was holding his mothers' hand he swore he would've floated away from sheer giddiness. It was magic! Real magic! Not Mum's magic but other stuff!
"I still wish I coulda brought a pint with me." grumbled Frederick, as he kept up the rear-guard, letting Patricia and Tiran clear the way ahead. It wasn't that Tiran's father was against magic, far from it, but shopping of any type was dreadfully boring to him.
"Oh hush, that would hardly be proper now would it? " Patricia chastized him, though did so with a breath of a chuckle and smile, imagining her drunk, muggle, husband weaving to and fro from shop to shop, somehow getting a refill at each one. It was positively hilarious to her. "What shall we get first sweety?" she turned her attention to the upturned face, gap-toothed smile and all.
"I want a wand! I want a wand!" Tiran pointed excitedly to Olivanders, just down the way, turning his attention to it as if the store would vanish should he not pay proper attention to it.
Patricia laughed "Ok, ok, let's hurry along then." she walked on, reigning Tiran in gently when he got a little too far ahead.
The door creaked on it's hinges, despite having been replaced, and led to the shop interior. Patricia beamed with nostalgia while Tiran let out a soft breathless "Wow" at the sheer amount of little boxes that had to be wands.
"A bit cramped innit?" Piped Frederick from behind.
"I prefer the term cozy, Mr.McQuillen. I do believe I said so the last time you were here." Came a voice from the back, belonging to a wild-haired elderly gentleman, slowly making his way to the front. "Good to see you again Patricia." Olivander smiled and looked over the desk to Tiran "Time flies swiftly doesn't it? I recall giving your mother her first wand when she was your age."
"I want the biggest and bestest wand in the store!" Tiran threw his hands up above him.
"Tiran! Manners." Patricia squeezed his hand and gave him a glare.
He shrunk back a little "Oh. Sorry. Um..." Tiran looked between Olivander and his mother a few times before settling on the old man "I'd like the biggest and bestest wand in the store please." Bright big smile was given.
Olivander merely laughed "I think I may know what wand you'll need." He shuffled off to the back and pulled out a box, then came back and opened it. "Let's see if you're a Maple like your sister." he handed the wand to Tiran.
Tiran took the wand with wide-eyed revrence looking at every detail before jumping at the sudden sound of Olivander clearing his throat. He held the wand wrong at first, then flipped it around and gave it a wave at flower vase.
The flowers immediately burst into flame causing Tiran to gasp and drop the wand, both hands covering his mouth and eyes wide with fear.
Patricia took out her wand in a flash and immediately doused the flames. "It's ok sweetie, shh, it's ok." the hint of amusement was detected in her voice. "These things happen when wand choosing." She plucked the wand from the floor and handed it back, only to see Olivander coming back with two boxes from the shelves.
"Not Maple, nor a Phoenix core..hmm." Olivander opened up one box and handed Tiran another wand "Lets see if a Cypress wand with a nice Unicorn hair core will do."
Tiran took the wand carefuly gave it a flick at the flowers again. This time the vase shattered completely and he jumped back, setting the wand on the counter. "Sorry." was all he could say.
"Wow." was heard from Frederick as he slid away from the vase and general direction Tiran had his wand pointed.
"We'll get it right soon enough, here, I think this one might fit you. Give it a flick now." another wand was handed to Tiran.
Tiran blinked confusedly at the wand and turned it over to look at it, small brows furrowing in what appeared to be deep thought. "It's bent." He said matter-of-factly. This time, he thrust his arm out more confidently and lit the oil lamp next to the remnants of the vase. The lamp gave off a brighter light than normal but soon went to it's regular intensity.
"I believe we've found your wand, Mr.McQuillen. " Olivander smiled, looking to Patricia "7-inch Birch with a slight spring to it and a Dragon Heartstring core. And it's not bent or broken young Tiran. It was crafted like that especially." he stated while boxing the other wands and getting everything squared away.
"Well, I do hope you keep the tradition of choosing Olivanders for your wands. " he smiled as they began to exit. "I do hope we may continue this tradition while I still live yet a while longer." he winked to Tiran who just seemed confused. Beside himself with joy but confused.
"Revvin’ up yer engine, listen to her howl and roar! Vavroom!
Metal under tension, beggin’ ya ta touch and goooo! Yeaaahh!
Hiiiiighway to tha Danger Zooooone!
Riiiiide into tha Danger Zooooone!”
Tiran flies around the grounds at Hogwarts, broom surfing with goggles on, hair wild while singing at the top of his lungs.
"Headin’ into twilight, spreadin’ out her wings tonight! Whoosh!
"She gotcha jumpin’ off the deck, and shovin’ into overdrive! Crank it!
Hiiiiighway to tha Danger Zooooone!
I’ll take ya right into tha Danger Zoooooone!”
His grin should be illegal with as much fun as he’s having, and apparently enjoying a birthday gift that had him blaring music into his ears while trying to match the noise level with his singing.
Connor was quite enjoying the peaceful sunset, especially after that horrific jaunt through the forest with man-sized spiders that could eat your face. Definitely was NOT in the brochure, mind you. His latest whittling project - a little rabbit - was coming along great. He was sitting on the ledge of the window, letting the wood flakes fall out and back to nature.
Then a red streak buzzed the Ravenclaw’s tower on a broomstick. The rabbit and the whittling knife fall out of the window as Connor fell back into the room from surprise with a resounding “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” echoing across the grounds.
The mighty expletive was not lost on Tiran, as he pushed his back leg down and reared his front knee up to pivot and turn much like a surfer would.
"Wha?" an earbud was yanked as he noticed the twinkle of a blade and something else rapidly approaching the ground. This was his moment!
Down he zipped, diving headlong towards the ground as if he were trying to race gravity itself, narrowing in on the carving, He winces as he puts all his effort into it, his Quidditch instincts kicking in with his range of awareness broadening.
There was a Hufflepuff face-planting into a book nearby like an ostrich.
A fellow Gryffindor was tossing up a last morsel of a pumpkin tart to catch in their mouth.
A crow spread it's wings and took flight, whether from the expletive or Tiran's descent was unknown.
Closer and closer he got, it was going to be a close one, or he would end up in Pomfrey's with a scolding.
Closer...
Got it! Tiran tilted his broom at the last second, his long arms reaching to catch the rabbit a mere foot from the stones and zipping away as the knife clattered noisily below.
"Whoo!" He held the rabbit up like a prize, with a few students cheering and one patting a Gryffindor's back who nearly choked on said pastry. "Now then, which window did you belong to?" he mutters while looking up to the tower.
"Revvin' up yer engine, listen to her howl and roar! Vavroom!
Metal under tension, beggin' ya ta touch and goooo! Yeaaahh!
Hiiiiighway to tha Danger Zooooone!
Riiiiide into tha Danger Zooooone!"
Tiran flies around the grounds at Hogwarts, broom surfing with goggles on, hair wild while singing at the top of his lungs.
"Headin' into twilight, spreadin' out her wings tonight! Whoosh!
"She gotcha jumpin' off the deck, and shovin' into overdrive! Crank it!
Hiiiiighway to tha Danger Zooooone!
I'll take ya right into tha Danger Zoooooone!"
His grin should be illegal with as much fun as he's having, and apparently enjoying a birthday gift that had him blaring music into his ears while trying to match the noise level with his singing.
[Sorry I’ve not been posting much and just reblogging stuff. My muses are silent even if I want to rp. it’s damn frustrating and annoying. But that’s the reason for my silence. Can’t think of shit even when I really want to rp with ppls especially some of the newer folks. ]
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