* ʟᴏᴠᴇʟᴏʀɴ

AILYN WILKES: What is your stance when it comes to lying? Is lying ever acceptable, in your opinion?

“sometimes, you just have to. i mean, i don’t like it. i really hate even doing it, honestly. because once you start, where does it stop? it just goes on and on, makes more of a mess than we started out with. 

but sometimes, you know, there’s just the necessity. not everything needs to be said. and sometimes, not saying things is a lie in itself. i don’t mind when people lie to me. of course, it stings a little, but they’re just trying to protect themselves. it’s natural.“

LEONORA FLINT: Which emotion do you have the most difficulty expressing?

“everyone’s always telling me i don’t talk enough and that i’m boring, so all of them, i guess.

to be honest though, i don’t like telling people that i’m angry with them. and i don’t like shaking people’s hands after i lose quidditch matches. i do it, of course, but it’s hard to not be so put out. if that’s an emotion, then i guess my answer is that one.”

CECILY SKEETER-ATLAS: What’s the most scandalous thing you’ve ever done? 

“i… shouldn’t say.“

MAILAN PHAM: How far would you go for your family?

“as far as i need to, i suppose. as long as it doesn’t mean i have to choose in between them. you do what you have to for the people you love. even if it hurts.”

ROXANNE WEASLEY: What are you most proud of about who you are?

“i’m proud of being there for the people who need me.“

VERONIKA ‘VERA’ WOOD-KRUM: What are you most skilled at, in your opinion?

i think people always accuse jasper of lacking individuality. 

it makes sense-- after all, out of the talkalot triplets, he’s the one you’d most likely overlook. which is hard because he is rather tall. 

it’s always been “jade, opal and... the other one.” or “jade, opal and... the boy”

but like-- that’s okay with him. in fact, that’s how he likes it. 

in fact, jasper argues, to no one in particular, that the fact that he is-- the most quiet, the least opinionated, that he is more individual than it may seem. after all, no one ever forgets jade or opal. it’s just him.

honestly, it’s not easy being this milquetoast and uninteresting. he’s ace at it. that takes some sort of talent.

not every has a loud personality. not everyone is born with fire in their bones. that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with him. 

jasper knows he’s his own person. he doesn’t really care if you know it or not. he doesn’t really worry about being perceived as someone outside of “one of the triplets”. the people who matter know.

z scoffs. unfortunate. yeah, he figures, that’d describe his life pretty damn well. unfortunate. “you know the kinds of people we hang around with. you ever experienced politeness from them?”

nothing frustrates him more than others who won’t take him seriously. who don’t believe in the things he believes about himself. anger bubbles in his stomach. “one hundred percent fucking certain.” he replies. “most people would expect a guy as quiet as you to say something smart when he piped up. and yet, here we are.”

“sorry i wasn’t to your expectations then,” jasper said, through gritted teeth, “the next time i speak i’ll be sure to use some bigger words and offer some sage advice. i’m sure that would be entirely appropriate.“

“and- to answer your question honestly,” he took another bite of his lunch, shook his head, “all the time, z. people are polite all the time. maybe if you didn’t start off so hostile, you would get the chance to experience it more.”

Hugo was familiar enough with the tells of someone who was lost to earth, and so he waited patiently as he watched Jasper daydream. He had only been sitting down at the Hufflepuff table for a short minute, after impulsively deciding to take the open seat beside the Talkalot boy. It wasn’t customary of Hugo to be the first one reaching out, and the only reason he was around the ‘puff table in the first place was because a relative called out to him. Plus, Jasper’s sisters weren’t around yet, so he decided to take the chance. Hugo’s eyebrows slightly jerked up at Jasper’s sudden response, choosing not to comment on the fact that he hadn’t asked any question that needed any answering to. “I’d say it sounds like neither,” he lightly jested, “But that’s probably hot strong love.”

“Got this owled to me some days ago,” he started. He pulled out a copy of Lord of the Butterflies by Andrea Gibson. “Seems like your kind of stuff.” 

jasper liked hugo. he really did. whenever they spent time together, he found hugo pleasant company. they shared many of the same interests and got on well enough. but, looking down at hugo’s offering, he was reminded of why the two of them didn’t spend more time together, “my kind of stuff?” jasper parroted apprehensively. while he couldn’t be sure, the book looked decidedly muggle. and while there was nothing wrong with that, it certainly wasn’t his wheelhouse. he shrugged apologetically, “i dunno, hugo, i’ve never seen it before.”

it wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in it-- he was, mildly, at least, he supposed. it was just that he didn’t know what to make of it. it was as strange as a foreign language to him. it looked like it was something to be gawked at, a piece you would bring in for show-and-tell in muggle studies class, not something that one would be read. at least, not in earnest.  

he reached out a tentative hand and leafed through a few pages, “did you read it already?”

“polite? merlin. that’s an excuse i haven’t heard in these halls.” z’s eyebrows shoot up. “yeah, you better not have. and hostility’s sort of my default, in case you hadn’t heard.” he replies, teeth still all but gritted. he leans forwards, sets the boy with a burning glare.

he hopes it’s enough to convince him that he should, very much, be afraid.

something wrong? you look like you’re having some, er, digestion issues. need an escort to the hospital wing?” he asks, then blinks in disbelief when the blonde’s attention drifts right back to the music. “are you seriously still banging on about that song?”

“you’ve never had someone try to be polite to you?“ jasper deadpanned,  “well, that’s... rather unfortunate.”

it was the beginnings of a joke. had someone punctuated the delivery with a laugh, it could have even landed. but jasper wasn’t willing to put that much effort in trying. staring placidly back into z’s rather indignant stare, he took another bite of his lunch.

opal shook her head at him and turned back to her own lunch. a fond gesture, really. 

the truth was that opal rarely thought through her words much, when making idle conversation, and thus couldn’t be bothered to recall such things without a jog to her memory. she knew she made perfect sense whether or not she chose her words with care. ( caring, then, was wasted energy ) she’d never admit that she’d already half forgotten her own question by this point. besides  —  jasper’d already steered the conversation on for them.  

“ I don’t think I know much of anything about her body of work, “  opal said, a breezy tone set to breeze over the admission she didn’t know much about something. she glanced back up at jasper and cocked her head  —  doing her best to think back over any celestina songs she might’ve heard, once or twice. opal had never cared for love songs; this was a topic she couldn’t have been more unsuited towards, but for her brother, she’d try. she waved her fork around in the air between them.  “  …  is magic magic man the one that makes me want to vomit, a little? if yeah, I think the one you’re thinking of is the other one. “

“no, that’s the other one,” he said with a certainty that was often lacking in his other conversations. he was not one to speak without thinking, without going over his words several times, but he took the liberty to do so here. “i think-- last time you heard a cauldron of hot strong love, you said it was revolting and that they must have sampled the screeches of a thousand mandrakes. it was rather funny.”

the memory brought a small smile on his face now, the corners of a grin lilting just enough upwards to be noticeable. while it was not unusual for him to be found with a smile, there was an earnestness in his eyes that was saved for few. “you might not care for them, but you’ve certainly heard them loads of times, opal,” he reminded her gently, “i don’t think we’ve been to a wedding where they didn’t play one or the other.”

“mom used to play them too,” jasper tacked on, before shrugging, “but that was when we were really young, so maybe you don’t remember that.”

he furrowed his brow, deep in thought. suddenly, he couldn’t recall whether she had played the songs for all three of the triplets or just him. he had a vision of lucinda chasing the other two in the garden, trying to wrangle them, as celestina warbeck’s warbling voice played in the background. perhaps-- she had played them just for him. 

Fenna didn’t understand how brains worked. How hers seemed to be wired wrongly, on some days, how others seemed to be capable of such dangerous, real hatred, how sometimes minds seemed to wander away, away, away. As she looked at Jasper, waiting for him to answer her request — it had been simple, just a “could you pass thte marmalade?” — she wondered what was going on in his head, for a slight moment.

He didn’t pass the marmalade. Fenna considered asking again, but then the subject was changed. She looked at her toast, butter melting into it, and shrugged as she picked it up. Another time. At Jasper’s question, she was just confused, eyebrows knitted together, a bit puzzled at the randomness ( though not in a bad way, per se ). “I’m not familiar with either,” she admitted, before taking a bite from her toast. “Not well enough, at least, to figure out which one it is. I’m just … not all too well versed in the world of magical music, I’m afraid.” And that was all she’d say on that, unless Jasper asked for more. “But I’ll do a wild guess … is it Magic Magic Man?”

at her guess, he gave her a tentative smile.

“i shouldn’t have asked,” he said, “i’m no expert either-- but i probably do know better than you.”

had someone else said it, there might have been a bite there, a hint or sarcasm, but he stated it so plainly and matter-of-fact that hardly anything could be done but to ignore it. if anyone had been listening, certainly, they might have wondered what he had meant by a statement like that-- but, with one look at his finely-coiffed hair, the noblesse of his profile, the inherent kindness of face, could he not be forgiven? 

after all, they might ask themselves, was he not entitled to his ignorance? wouldn’t it be a shame to crease that bold brow, to worry an otherwise untroubled mind? look, he was good, generous even. despite his tablemate’s background, he found her quite pleasant. all in all, he thought of her as an agreeable fellow hufflepuff who didn’t ask too much of him. he even felt quite guilty for not knowing what he had just agreed to. 

“sorry, fenna,” he said sheepishly, “i have to admit that i wasn’t paying attention at all there. mind repeating the question?”

“Yes,” Viv repeated, staring at him as if he’d grown a new head—-which she supposed might actually be a good thing in his case, seeing as he clearly wasn’t using his current one. “I ask you where Natalia is and you say yes. Aren’t you supposed to be good with words?” Rolling her eyes——fucking useless, honestly—at least as frustrating as Opal was, she was capable of intelligence——she nonetheless listened to his humming. “First of all, we’re not seventy, so weird playlist you’ve got going on here, but it’s Magic Magic Man —- can’t believe you would disrespect Celestina that way, though, good grief, Talkalot.” Viv had no particular affection for Celestina Warbeck’s discography, but Celestina was a musical icon and Quentin Nightingale had nothing on her and Viv would not stand for the disrespect. 

it was something akin to embarassment that washed over him now, but he did his best to act unperturbed. 

“my mother plays them,“ he said defensively, before shrugging, “celestina’s not really my thing.“

which one was natalia? he saw a flash of dark hair, a blur for a face. was that the-- no, that was the head girl. what about the-- he wrinkled his nose. it was one of the twins, wasn’t it? he knew it was ironic, given his own status as a multiple, but he couldn’t tell either of them apart. so he said as much.

“i couldn’t tell you, viv. i can’t tell them apart.” he admitted, “i can help you look though, if that’s what you’d want.“ 

“are you one of those people who doesn’t actually listen to anything anyone says?” z asks, head tilting and his voice verging on unfairly harsh, “or have you just resigned yourself to the fact that you’re not gonna understand it, so you just smile and nod?” he pulls himself bck from the vitriol, a tiny hint of guilt tugging at his mind as jasper appears to actually want to talk to him. but, z figures, they’re both probably better off if the blonde doesn’t get too friendly.

“think you’re funny, do you? asking about my mum?” he flares up - he’s protective of his siblings, yes, but even more so of his mother. he can’t count, not on his hands nor on the scars on his back, the amount of times he’s put himself in harm’s way to protect her. how little she’s deserved all the things she has endured in her life. and for some jackass kid to think he can just nose around z’s life like that… well, the ravenclaw isn’t about to sit back and let those questions fly. “mind your own business, dumbarse, or else.”

“none of the above,” jasper replied stiffly, his hands balling into a fist at his side, “merlin, i was just trying to be polite. just so we’re clear, i didn’t mean anything by the question, so there’s no reason to snap or get so hostile.”

z’s reaction stung more than jasper was willing to let on. regardless of however others perceived him, jasper wasn’t an idiot. he was just- his fist balled even tighter now- busy thinking about other things than what was going on in the moment. 

he went back to considering the melody of the song he couldn’t quite place.

“Talkless, I was asking you if you were done with your chips because my friend over there’s been eyeing them for a while. Or at least, I hope that’s what they were eyeing.”

Alice sighed as she looked at the blond. She felt such shame whenever she set her eyes upon him. To think that, for the first few months of first year, she had had a crush on him. It was more than embarrassing, really. The only people who knew were her sisters, and she was pretty sure they had forgotten by then, and for that, she was immensely glad.

Frowning at Jasper’s question, she tilted her head to the side. 

“Neither. It’s Frogilicious.”

he took a moment to process her request, looking down at his chips and then back in alice’s direction. his brows knitted together in confusion. 

“there’s more over there,” he said tentatively, unsure of what else to say, “but your friend- they can share mine i suppose. i’m not really done with them.”

it didn’t seem very likely that alice longbottom had come over to his table to just talk to him about sharing his chips, but who was he to discern these things? he had never really been the most astute. he nudged his plate closer to him preemptively, just in case that answer wasn’t satisfactory and alice decided to swipe them or otherwise react negatively. 

he paused again, this time wrinkling his nose, “are you sure about frogilicious? i could have sworn that sounded entirely different.”

z knows what it’s like to get drawn away in thought - he used to do it, all the time, when he was a kid. it was an escape. it was his safety. but now… in the midst of a war, letting himself drift off into the clouds would mean his death, or mai’s, or… well, he doesn’t want to think about it. so the sight of the hufflepuff boy so completely glazed over almost makes him angry. he imagines himself crumpling up a piece of paper and throwing it at jasper. then, z realizes, he probably wouldn’t even notice. “i didn’t even say anything, talkalittle.” he replies, head shaking. then his face contorts even further, and he can’t help but laugh - cold, and in disbelief. “i don’t know. i don’t listen to that shit.”

“oh-” he looked downwards. it was a little disappointing that z hadn’t said anything to begin with. it was even more disappointing that z hadn’t known the answer. the name of the song would bother him for the rest of the day. 

he offered z a tentative smile. while interaction had never been his strong point, at the very least, jasper was usually good at telling when someone wanted something from him. however, there was something about z’s scrutiny that made him viscerally uncomfortable. 

“i don’t really listen to it either,“ he offered, “but my mom does. she’s a- she’s um- a big fan.“

once, when he was very young, jasper talkalot had lost his family in diagon alley. he was certain they were right behind him (as they had all been looking into the window at quality quidditch supplies a moment ago), but, by the time he actually decided to check, there was no one there.  he had panicked for a moment, started walking off into the street, before he remembered an errant tidbit that he had learned a few weeks prior: most people lost in the woods often made things worse for themselves by journeying deeper into the unknown. this was not the woods, he knew, but he figured that it was still best to stay put, sitting down on the sidewalk and waiting for his mother to notice he was missing. 

thankfully, it hadn’t taken long. 

that day, as a panicked lucinda talkalot saw her eldest child sitting in the middle of a busy street staring off into the clouds, she couldn’t help but ask, “where is your head, jasper? what in the world is going on in your mind?”

he had started to say something about the woods, something about survival tips, but one of his siblings had interjected with a huff, “it’s just jasper, mom. you know how he is. he always has his head in the clouds.”

in the years since, he had thought of that moment often. and while he hadn’t appreciated the tone of voice being used, he had thought the descriptor rather apt. jasper was a simple man. he was hardly ever thinking about anything other than a few nebulous and flighty topics. his current preoccupations were quidditch (in which his head was literally in the clouds), on occasion, the object of his affections (which, in his view, was about as close to heaven and, thus, the clouds, as he was about to get) and his family (he admitted this one didn’t really quite fit the cloud metaphor.

nevertheless, it was, thus, unsurprising that, during their lunch break in the great hall, jasper had his head in the clouds again. when he finally grounded himself long enough to be aware of the world around him, his companion was looking at him like they expected him to say something. after trying to recall what they wanted from him and failing miserably, he took a bite from his sandwich, nonplussed.

“yes,” he said firmly, though he was not quite sure about what exactly he was agreeing to. 

“tell me this, though--” he changed the topic, “is it a cauldron full of hot strong love that goes like this,“ he hummed a few bars, “or is it magic magic man?“

❝ i do not know any other way of loving but this . ❞ LOGAN SHROYER? No, that’s actually JASPER TALKALOT. A SIXTH YEAR student, this HUFFLEPUFF student is sided with THE DEATH EATERS. HE identifies as CIS MALE and is a PUREBLOOD who is known to be UNCONCERNED, SHORT-SIGHTED, and QUIET but also MEASURED, LOYAL, and PROTECTIVE.

pls like this post to plot w/ me (and forgive the mess that is my blog while i get things in order!)