#augustus002

Bertram had been very distracted during Potions Class. He was lucky that Professor Slughorn didn’t call him out on it. He probably had been too busy praising whoever brewed the best potion that day. But while Bertram was stirring his cauldron clockwise instead of counter-clockwise, his mind was busy thinking about what he and Brie agreed on. Bertram was to ask someone out on a date. Dirk Cresswell to be exact, and his thick, attractive eyebrows. 

There must be some way to back out of it. He didn’t even know if Dirk bloody liked boys. 

Wait... that must be the way out then, wasn’t it? If he learns that Dirk didn’t like guys, he wouldn’t have to ask him out. He’ll just shrug her shoulders at Brie and say that he tried... Kind of...

After Potions class, he waited for Augustus Rookwood, hoping to ask his advice. “Hey,” Bertram greeted. “Can I ask you a question? It’s about... Cresswell.”

WHO: Lucinda Talkalot & Augustus Rookwood (@arookwood-r) WHERE: The Courtyard. WHEN: The Valentine’s Masquerade Dance.

Lucinda spent her time wandering around the edges of the dance. She was single on Valentine’s Day so she hadn’t come with anyone. That wasn’t too much of a problem though considering the lovely game someone had decided to come up with. She had rounded up her fair share of snogs- roses or no roses -and she was having a fairly good time. Champagne was flowing freely as were other alcoholic drinks much to the chagrin of the professors and Aurors. After spinning her way off the dance floor Lucinda went over to the drinks table and poured herself a glass of champagne.

She tipped the entire glass back before setting it down and making her way across the courtyard spotting the one person she hadn’t managed to run into during this dance. Once she was close enough, Lucinda twirled over to Augustus and held her hand out to him. “You didn’t think I’d let you get away with this entire dance without forcing you to dance with me did you?”

She’s got her arms crossed, shoulders pushed back and a length to her stride as she walks; an echo ricocheting from footsteps to far corners within these hollow - and abnormally inaudible - hallways. Since the blooming of teenage years, she has mastered a walk of purpose, a gait which bleeds the terror one has seen. It is self-learned, as the arch of a singular brow or the choice of fight or flight. It was why the med bay, cramped with far too many bodies within too little space, did not stir a more perturbed emotion within her as it had the crew.

Though who she sought would not be one’s first belief, Kallia had taken it upon herself to survey the entire nature of her prior group - to determine their future abilities. To assume what they had experienced was a sole occurrence would be foolish, but to also believe it may be the worst of what is to come would be deathly. Augustus was not built from mortar, did not carry the weight of something most nefarious, but she could not pity the naive; his survival may one day be detrimental to her own.

“Seems like we just can’t get rid of you,” she speaks without warning. “How about next time you just stay as far away as possible? When we need you for a game of question time, we’ll be sure to contact you via the comms.” Though her intentions remain unapparent, she came with reason. “There’s not enough of us to coddle the inexperienced.”