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Week Name/Date/Time: 'Trick or Treat'/ Thursday, November 3rd, 2005/8:35pm
Location: Ravenclaw Common Room
Open To: Jory (XD)
Currently Involving: Saffron and Jory
This was perfect. A purple and green checkered ankle length skirt was exactly what she wanted. Did her mother buy things that she hoped she would hate? Was there a store with a sign that ( Read more... )
Location: Ravenclaw Common Room
Open To: Jory (XD)
Currently Involving: Saffron and Jory
This was perfect. A purple and green checkered ankle length skirt was exactly what she wanted. Did her mother buy things that she hoped she would hate? Was there a store with a sign that ( Read more... )
While they had been friends for many years, and they had talked numerous times about quidditch, she had almost forgotten that he too was a fan of the Falmouth Falcons. She always envied how rough they played, though she suspected that Jory probably liked them for some other reason, what with him being civilized and all. Though their matching favorite teams excited her, she decided not to mention it. Instead, she thought a joke would be best. "Opted not for the beard today, aye?" Chuckling lightly, she stroked her chin for a moment, giving him a once over. Well, at least she wasn't the only one who looked ready for bed.
It was then that she noticed that he looked a little suspicious. She didn't know him to stand with his hands clutched behind his back; she leaned forward trying to get a peek of what he was obviously hiding. "Well mate, what've you got there?" It was not obvious to her that his gift was something related with quidditch, in fact, she didn't even suspect that it was a gift at all. Saffron was almost completely oblivious; she didn't even realize that he wanted to see her. She simply thought it was a fortunate run in.
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"Ah, yes," he said with a chuckle, mirroring Saffron as he stroked his chin, too. "Well, I shaved," he declared and kept a straight face. "That's what men do. You know. They shave." Never mind the fact that he never had any need to shave, in all reality. Puberty was just doing things wrong -- it had forgotten to give him proper facial hair, it had forgotten to give him that bloody growth spurt (he was still holding out hope for that one, though), but he imagined it would remember soon enough. If he wanted to grow a beard that matched Dumbledore's, he ought to start right away!
He was snapped out of his thoughts when Saffron seemed to take note of his incredibly unsneaky tactic of hiding her gift behind his back. "Oh, uh..." He blushed. This would be bloody awful if she hated it. Clearing his throat again, he pulled the wrapped package from behind his back and said, "Uh, well, I've got a gift? Um, for you. I mean, for your birthday." His eyes widened a bit because he'd forgotten to even say-- "Happy Birthday, by the way," he added hastily, taking the seat beside her and handing the gift over.
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There was a sudden light in her eyes when Jory handed her the gift. Speechless, she looked at his wrapping job; it warmed her heart. Looking up from the gift, she look almost overwhemled with happiness (which was rare lately). "Ohhh. Jory, you shouldn't have." Even if he thought he had done a poor job, the fact that Jory had even remembered her birthday was enough to make her jump around joy - that is, if she wasn't trying to unwrap her gift. Struggling for a moment with the tape she finally managed to get the wrapping off, and her mouth dropped open in surprise.
Saffron pulled on one glove extending her hand out to get a good look at it. Her long fingers fit perfectly into it, and as she yanked on the other, she looked back up at Jory, beaming. "Thank you so much! I really needed these!" Without thinking, she embraced him, practically climbing into his lap. After she tried to show him how much she loved them via squeezing, she let go, sitting on her feet next to him. "Oh my, these are so great! Just think now Jory! Even if you're not in the game, you helped us win in your own way."
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Oh! But she looked awfully happy about it! The gift, of course. Well, good, maybe he didn't have to feel stupid anymore. "Well..." Jory said, scratching his head awkwardly. They were mates, weren't they? 'Course he had to get her a present! Although, perhaps -- yes, far too much spellotape, he'd sealed it up too well. He offered her an apologetic grin as he watched her fight to unwrap it.
And she looked... well, surprised? Was that good? Yes? He sighed in relief when she smiled and thanked him. He wouldn't have known what to say if she hadn't liked it. The hugging caught him off guard, though. One did not usually expect to receive a lap full of Saffron. "Oh!" he cried, rather surprised. Patting her on the back, he hoped his face wasn't too red. "You're, uh... welcome," he replied once she'd let go. He ran his fingers through his hair awkwardly, to give his hands something to do. "Then, you like them? Brilliant."
He couldn't help but laugh at Saffron's last comment, though. "Well, that's good!" he said cheerfully. "I've done my part, then; no need for me to wave a 'Go Ravenclaw' flag at games like I told Emmy I would." Not that he'd been serious about the flag thing, but well, now there were other ways of showing support, weren't there?
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He did appear to be a little pink, so Saffron decided that maybe she'd leave the beard situation alone. It did make for some laughs though, she had to admit it. And, should Hogwarts ever have a play with an aged man, she could be the ace beard maker. Instead she thought of the student paper. "What's this I hear about you being a writer for some paper that's going around?" She prodded him gently, as if this would help extract the information from him.
"I love them!" She exclaimed, amused by how awkward he was acting. Wasn't she suppose to be the giddy, nervous, awkward teen? Apparently (and thankfully, she noted) he had taken her job. She knew that very people knew how affectionate she was, and it appeared that Jory was rather surprised to receive a full dose of it then. Then again, there was basically no one at Hogswarts who she really felt close enough to be hugging every time she saw them anyway.
When he mentioned not waving a flag, Saffron visibly deflated. Her shoulders sagged and she pouted. "But I was sooo looking forward to picking you out of the crowd with your flag! I was thinking of making a flag that said 'You Rock Saffron' and shamelessly asking you wave it. But since you're not waving any flag at all..." She was of course kidding. It would've been obscenely embarrassing for both of them should he waved that flag. Though, if she was in the stands rather than on her broom, she would've encouraged him to hold a banner with her.
She seemed to have re-sinflated, and was bouncing up and down a bit. Quidditch gloves were better than her other gifts (yes, even better than chocolate frogs), especially considering they came from Jory. Her mouth was curled up in a smile she couldn't fight off her face and her cheeks were already beginning to ache. It was just Jory - he would understand if she was just sitting there smiling like an idiot. He'd probably figure it was still the ecstasy from his gift.
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"Oh, the paper." Jory chuckled a bit at her prodding. It also made him rather happy when he thought about the paper. "Yeah, that's me, writer extraordinaire. I thought it might be fun? Well..." Was fun the word? Well, maybe it was, actually. "Yeah, fun. And I'm trying to be better at getting school assignments in on time, so I thought having a deadline for the paper might help." He frowned a bit. It also meant that he might be just as awful at turning in articles as he was at turning in homework. Letting his friends and classmates down was a bit worse than letting his professors down, wasn't it? He shook his head. Better to not think of that.
"Good!" he cried, genuinely pleased that she liked his present. This gift-giving business was bloody hard, he found, and it didn't seem like Saffron was pretending to like it for his sake or anything. That was good. "How's it feel being a year older, then? Or -- well, a day older actually, but a year older theoretically?"
Appearing quite serious, Jory pondered the flag dilemma for a moment or two. "Hmm. A flag might get a bit tiring to hold. I reckon I could get a t-shirt made that says 'Saffron is #1', yeah?" He shook his head, tsking quietly. "Oh, no, it isn't exactly t-shirt weather, is it? A hat, then. It would have to be a rather large one so that everyone could see it, but I think that might work." He smiled, more because of how infectious Saffron's smile was at the moment. Who knew gloves would go over so well? Not he. Although, he probably should have suspected, as things related to Quidditch were always the best sorts of things in the world.
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Still bobbing up and down, her mouth gapped excitedly. "Why didn't you tell me you were a writer before now?! Honestly. I'm rather proud of you, both for wanting to better yourself, and for making it!" He turned in his homework late? Well, not all Ravenclaws could be punctual, she suppose. Then again, he did seem to have good timing, despite this. Shrugging at the thought, she noticed his frown. Before she had a chance to reach over and make a smile, he was yelling happily.
"Oh my! I can't believe you think that too! There is always so much pressure to have fun because it's your birthday," she rolled her eyes, extending the word to make it seem foolish, "when you're really only one day older. My mum argues about this with me every year," she said, shaking her head a little heated. Getting off the topic of her mother, Saffron regained her happiness and smiled. "I feel acient really," she said, casting her head against her forehead dramatically. Getting away from her act, she poked him again lightly. "For two days we're the 'same' age then. Hah!"
Yes, that would tiring, she supposed. "Yeah.." she mummbled, nodding and rubbing the back of her arms carefully. She laughed at the thought of the t-shirt, but Jory did bring up a good point. "Yeah, it will be rather chilly out, even for us who are racing around!" His deductive reasoning was one of Saffron's reasons for being so fond of Jory. It was always slightly sarcastic, in just the way she appreciated, and most importantly, it made her insides giggle with laughter. "A hat!" she cried, waving her hands above her head as if she were petting some great hat that was on her head. "Brilliant!" Yes, quidditch was always a good topic.
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Tonight was a night for blushing, it seemed (although maybe every night was that sort of night, and everyday, too), because he could tell he was doing it again when Saffron said she was proud of him. "Ah, well... you never asked," he said lamely, ruffling his hair again. If you were going to tell people you were a writer, he imagined you'd have to believe you were awfully good at it, and he didn't know if he was that. He just sort of liked it. And journalism gave him a proper nudge to actually care about something, which was a nice change of pace.
But he agreed about the pressure of 'birthdays', really; he usually didn't divulge his birthday to people. That way, there was no expectation on how he should act or how they should act. He didn't mind his mates knowing, of course, because they mostly understood. "We are," he laughed. He'd forgotten how close his and Saffron's birthdays were. He also hadn't realized how close he was to being seventeen. Still weird, in his mind. Oh well, deal with that later. (But HONESTLY, he thought, if I'm going to be seventeen, don't I deserve to be just the slightest bit taller?! Maybe just a bit?)
"Well, then, for two whole days we're finally on even footing," he said sagely. "You can finally begin to comprehend the, uh... infinite wisdom and maturity being this age brings a person." He smirked slightly at her. He did like teasing her by pretending there was a huge age gap between them, although he knew otherwise (and knew that there was clearly no maturity gap between them).
"A hat it is, then," he decided. "You'll have to knit it, of course; I don't know that they actually sell hats that say 'Saffron is #1'." Seemed rather like a niche market to him, personally.
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Slightly distracted by her sleeves - there was nothing wrong with them really - Saffron began trying to pet them down against her arm. She had always fancied herself to be some sort of writer, but the only pieces she had were unfinished works up in her trunk. When he mentioned that she never asked, she looked up and chuckled lightly. "I suppose I ought to ask more things more often then." She thought then might've been a time to ask some completely absurd question (the one she had in mind wasn't exactly absurd), but feared she would get a nervous laugh as a reaction, so instead she hopped on the birthday boat.
Seventeen was very old, especially considering that Saffron would probably spend a long while telling everyone she was still fifteen. She didn't feel any older, no, she just felt weighted down by ugly skirts and a good pile of chocolate frogs in her belly. "I suppose you're right. Now that I think about it, I do feel..." she paused, looking out the window for a moment, "so very much more...foolish," she said laughing. "I simply cannot wait two days for you to tell me what you suddenly know once you're 17. Especially if being this old gives you infinite wisdom." Taking the teasing in stride, she sat back, curling her legs up indian style.
Rubbing her fingers together to obviously mimic knitting, it appeared she seemed to be thinking."I would probably have to use a freezing spell to make it stand upright." She nodded, then gave him a suspicious glare. "You wouldn't really wear it, would you?" Even if he wasn't going to wear it about, she still could make it, for fun of course. "Oh, knitting," she said brightly, and leaned over the side of the couch (coming dangerously close to falling of, of course). When she righted herself, in her hands she had two blue socks, with yellow heels. "I took your advice, and now I've knitted myself socks. It's rather warm in here, so I didn't need them."
She was going to knit him some for his birthday, but he wasn't Dumbledore. Jory would probably not want a pair of poorly knitted socks. Anyway, she had a much better present waiting up under her bed. Hopefully no one had seen it, and if they had, hopefully they hadn't let the cat out of the bag.
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"Yes, there you are," he said with a nod; all it would have taken was a well-placed 'Jory, do you write?' and she would have received an 'Ah yes, I do, although not well' for her troubles. He could not promise this tactic would work for all questions, but he imagined it would, within reason. And well, if he didn't feel like answering something, there was always the possibility of a cryptic smile.
A cryptic smile, a bit like the one he bestowed on her presently to indicate the infinite knowledge and wisdom (and height?!) turning seventeen was bound to give him. "Well, you don't look foolish," he reassured her. "I'll be sure to let you know all I learn." Still smirking, he added, "Unless, of course, you're too young to comprehend it."
Amused by her knitting gestures, he said, "A freezing charm, that might work. Or..." He trailed off, chuckling. "Well, no. It's likely that I wouldn't wear it," he admitted. "But I might. You know, in private." Private, of course, did not include Quidditch games, unfortunately. He watched her lean over the side of the couch and put a hand out in case she fell or something. Once she'd straightened, he dropped the hand back into his lap and grinned when he saw the socks. "Very nice," he commented. "Much like narrow hats, with heels. You ought to give them to Dumbledore." He smiled slightly, but was also reminded of the worrying fact that Dumbledore wasn't in the castle at the moment, which still had him concerned. He tried not to think about it, but his smile faltered a bit, only to be replaced by surprise at her next comment.
"You've noticed, too?" he cried. "It's warmer 'round here, yeah? You and I visiting the kitchens; we're bloody heroes is what we are."
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"Oh, I will appreciate that, Master Jory." She slapped her hands together in front of her face and nodded playfully. Gosh, it looked she wasn't getting her nap into tonight! "I suppose I will be, but just as all the young'ns before me, I'll be up for listen'n." Oh what fun always ensued. Looking at him, Saffron felt some grab her heart with a lasso and drag it into her stomach. Gabriel, she thought sourly. She shook her head, obviously attempting to get her heart back up where it belonged.
Frowning slightly, Saffron nodded. "I suppose you wouldn't want to be wearing that hat about, once you're a big seventeen-year-old." Had she known about his height complex, she probably would've left the "big" part out. Or otherwise would've capitalized on the moment and poked a bit of him at him. "Private is good enough for me. I'll make it then!" she exclaimed, her mood swings in full blast - though the happiness seemed to be consistently sticking around.
"I'll have you wrap them up," she leaned closer to him in a knowing fashion, "tamper resistant you see, and give them to him over the Holidays." She wasn't too worried about Dumbledore being gone, but that was probably because she hadn't thought about it very much. "You really think they look good though?" she asked, expecting that he would probably be polite about it, and lie. "I think they look like rubbish," she said casually, hoping he would give her a smile and stay on the positive bandwagon.
Surprised by Jory's outburst, Saffron laughed. "Yes, I have noticed. I haven't even needed to get my second comforter out yet." Heroes? Well, she wouldn't have said that, but when Jory mentioned a smile that filled her whole face (crinkling her eyes, showing teeth, everything) washed over her. "We certainly are, but I don't know if anyone else will even notice. And I bet Juhi will skin us for going down there," she laughed. It had been a while since she'd seen her friend, but Saffron knew that Juhi shared her values about rules: Don't break them.
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He chuckled lightly at her comments, despite the fact that her mood seemed to have dropped a bit. He peered at her in concern, but didn't prod her about it; it wasn't really in his nature, and her moods tended to be all over the place anyway, he reminded himself.
Ignoring the fact that she was poking fun at his totally and completely brilliant wrapping job, Jory considered the next question seriously. If she was expecting a smile, she wasn't getting it straight away; he took the socks from her, looking at them with a thoughtful frown. Silently, he studied them, flipped them over, turned them around to examine the heels. Finally, he lifted his head, shaking his unruly hair out of his eyes and said, "I don't think they look like rubbish." Passing them back to her, he added, "I like them," and smiled.
"Ah," he drawled and whistled softly, scratching his jaw, "well, that's why we didn't mention it to Juhi. And won't." He didn't know what Juhi was like when she got all prefect-y, but he didn't want to know either. He got in trouble enough. "It was a top-secret investigation, 'course."
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Saffron frowned as Jory took ahold of the socks. No smile. Yes, careful consideration was always nice, but she noted both that she was looking for instant gratification and that she was not getting any. She watching him nervously, her bouncing stopped. "Not rubbish!" she cried happily, taking them back from him. "I really appreciate that Jory," she mentioned warmly. For what she did next, she was hoping he hadn't been lying, or this would be awkward. "You can have them if you want, since it was your brilliant idea and all."
"No. No. Of course not," she said shaking her head and looking very serious - then again, she looked generously serious any time she wasn't smiling. "Perfectly top secret." She now nodded, but looked suddenly distracted. She whipped her head around from side to side, stretching desperately as far as she could go. When the coast appeared to be clear, she turned back to Jory, a little more unsettled than before. "Speaking of top secret, I've been asking around, and it appears no Ravenclaws have cats!" She was speaking in a hushed yell, and her eyes were very wide with something like enthusiasm. She hoped that he would remember what in the world she was talking about, but there was a chance he might have completely forgotten.
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Jory, who found lying to take more effort than he cared to expend most of the time, looked the socks over once more. "Are you sure?" he asked Saffron, picking them up again. It would be nice to have two socks that actually matched for a change. "All right, then. Thanks," he said with a smile.
Not having forgotten, but alarmed at Saffron's secretive manner, Jory nodded slowly. "Oh," he said in a bit of a stage whisper as well. He took a furtive look around as well. "Is he here right now?" he asked, still in the hushed voice. Or she? Was it a girl cat? Were they whispering for the cat's benefit?
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He took them! And appeared generally pleased about it. "Oh! It's my pleasure. I've got trunks after trunks at home just bursting with crafts. I need some place to have 'em, and if I can give them to my mates, then great!" She nodded, and set her arms back at her sides, as she had used them to convey exactly how many trunks she had at home.
If she felt she looked foolish before, she should've waited a bit longer. She could then feel completely embarrassed by her antics. She was being secretive because of a cat, as if it could understand them. Then again, it could've been an animagus. Saffron supposed that was what her fear was based on. Though, exactly what she was afraid of the cat doing she wasn't sure. "I expect not," she said a bit louder, looking around. "Just, the bloody thing makes my allergies go crazy. And what if it really is a person?" 'What if' was basically the sense that Saffron lived in, in fact, it stopped her from doing things. "And now Juhi's got a bloody kitten. I swear I'll jinx the dang thing if it comes anywhere near my bed," she said, her voice barely hushed and adamant.
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