chasingharpy:
Rolanda’s expression tightened, turning stiffly away to stare at the broom before her. She knew everything about her appeared defensive, and honestly, she had been caught too off guard to have the wherewithal to even attempt to hide it. It was as irritating as it was unbecoming. “Funny you should mention caution, is it really that surprising, all things considered? I trusted you once upon a time and it ended up not working out too well,” she said dryly.
Almost against her better judgment, she found herself waving her hand in response, as if beckoning her to continue as she pleases. Even now, with all the bad blood she felt that there was between them, Rolanda heaved a great sigh as she crossed her arms over her chest, gripping her opposite elbow as her eyes cut around.
“If you’re looking for some deep introspection, you’re about to be disappointed. It’s an exhibit…bits and baubles to showcase history, both recent and long-lasting,” she said simply, “I’m not introspective, I’m practical. It just allows people to schmooze and relive glory days, regardless of whether the people they’re speaking with wants to be dragged back into those memories.”
Could her words come back to haunt her? Absolutely. It wouldn’t be the first time that she came under fire due to the other woman, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, she was sure. Thankfully, Madame Hooch, Hogwarts Flying Instructor drew significantly less interest and attention than Rolanda Hooch, Star Chaser of the Holyhead Harpies. It just wouldn’t draw quite the same interest. Though, her Slytherin self knew that it could draw enough interest to see the Board of Governors demanding her resignation.
@chasingharpy
"Funny you should mention caution, is it really that surprising, all things considered? I trusted you once upon a time and it ended up not working out too well," Rolanda retorted dryly, her arms crossing in an almost defensive posture.
A flash of remorse flittered across Rita's face, quickly replaced by her usual, impervious mask. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips, the journalist within her ever eager for the game of words.
"Ah, Rolanda," she began, her voice a mix of mirth and melancholy. "Truly, once upon a time feels a lifetime ago, doesn't it? But then, perhaps it's the unexpected that makes life interesting."
Rolanda's sigh echoed through the silence. Her expression had hardened, yet the dismissive wave of her hand seemed to beckon Rita on.
"If you’re looking for some deep introspection, you’re about to be disappointed. It’s an exhibit…bits and baubles to showcase history, both recent and long-lasting. I’m not introspective, I’m practical. It just allows people to schmooze and relive glory days, regardless of whether the people they’re speaking with wants to be dragged back into those memories."
Rita's smile widened at this, the challenge in Rolanda's tone only stoking the fire within her. With a nonchalant shrug, she countered, "Well then, isn't practicality the refuge of every overwrought heart?"
A beat passed, and she added with a pointed glance at the broom that had held Rolanda's attention earlier, "And sometimes, it's the 'baubles' and their tethered pasts that take us back, whether we will it or not."
Her gaze locked with Rolanda's, her own past flashing before her. Every shared laugh, every heated argument, every moment of silence that spoke volumes more than words ever could.
"Yes, Rolanda," Rita mused, her voice softer than before. "Indeed, they were the glory days." She allowed a moment of silence, a tribute to their shared past before turning the conversation back. "But remember, history has a habit of repeating itself, and reputation... well, it's a fickle thing, isn't it?"














