(no subject)
Who: Rosalind and Izzy
Where: St Mungo's
When: Visiting hours, 8 March 2022
What: Rosalind pays a social call to the patient and does a sketch.
Status: Complete
Rating: PG
It was an unusually sedate Izzy, both in terms of looks and manner, who sat in her hospital bed propped up by a small army of pillows that the (rather attractive) Irish-supporting trainee had managed to round up for her before his shift had ended. Deprived of its usual arsenal of curling potion and glamour charms, her person seemed to have shrunk a size or two. Her hair was around her shoulders in loose waves and without any make-up she looked younger and more vulnerable than usual. The thought of being sketched au naturel made her feel uneasy, but it was only a drawing after all, not a photograph. Not as though anyone would be seeing her like that other than Rosalind, and the Slytherin girl didn't seem a particularly judgemental type.
Rosalind had said that she would be arriving in about fifteen minutes and while Izzy didn't set much store by punctuality, she had the feeling the sixth year would be different. So she set aside her book and at least made sure that her hair was neatly combed before the girl appeared.
Rosalind Montague's footsteps were quiet and calm as they approached the ward in which the welcome witch had indicated that her schoolmate was staying. Under one arm, she carried a satchel that contained a sketchpad and a few charcoal pencils. It was rather unlike her to pay random visits to people she didn't know very well, but one side benefit of the Muggle Studies journals was that she found herself learning about and on occasion talking to more people. Izzy Finnigan she'd only previously known as that Gryffindor Chaser who had something or another going on with her house's Quidditch captain, but from all accounts, didn't seem to be a particularly unpleasant sort.
She approached Izzy's bed and gave the other girl a faint smile. "Good afternoon. How are you feeling?"
"I've been better." Izzy attempted a smile. "I still feel a bit dizzy if I concentrate on something for too long - not that it's much different to normal, as most people would say," she quipped. On the bedside table next to her was an assortment of chocolates. "Those are from my cousins." She gestured to them. "My father's side of the family and his mum's side at that. Grandpa's a Muggle. I don't know why people feel like they should bring sick people chocolates but help yourself if you like."
"Thanks, but I've eaten already," Rosalind answered. "I just had tea before coming here, actually." She felt the odd compulsion to say something about the Gryffindor's apparent tendency to let what 'most people would say' get to her, which was rather odd, but waited a beat before continuing. "Not everyone's kind or charitable, and it's probably not necessary to take what they say so seriously."
That was an unusual comment. And while Izzy didn't know Rosalind that well, she had an idea that the younger girl was perhaps a keep-to-herself type and therefore not inclined to go about saying things like that. She frowned and paused for a moment before continuing. "Yes, I suppose you're right. But for me I suppose it's easier to be nice than mean - in most instances and to most people - so I have trouble seeing how they seem to enjoy being that way." And not everyone seemed to say hurtful things just to be nasty. Nick for one didn't seem to be trying to upset her, but to say things 'just because.' That and how he was someone she very much liked and whose opinion she valued somehow made it harder to take from him, even though his comments were usually less venomous than the likes of Saraswati Nott.
Normally Izzy would have given these things more thought, but with both her headache and being woken on the hour the previous night really didn't have the motivation or the energy to contemplate them. Her mind growing tired of the topic, she asked, "So how exactly are you going to do this?"
"Well, I've brought a pad and a few charcoals," Rosalind answered, accepting that Izzy didn't want to discuss the other matter any further at the moment. "I know that visitor's hours aren't very long, so it's not likely to be more than a basic sketch. You can keep talking if you wish, or not... just do as you please. You don't have to keep absolutely still or do anything special."
"Alright then," Izzy said with a nod. "Just let me get into a position so that I can comfortably stay that way for a bit." While still nervous about the finished product, it was strangely flattering to have herself drawn. She fluffed up her pillows and then leant back against them, watching Rosalind expectantly.
Rosalind nodded agreeably and while Izzy made herself comfortable, she pulled up a chair to a spot close to the bed where she had both a good vantage point of her subject and a decent amount of light. Taking a seat, she took out the contents of her satchel, and propped the sketchpad down on her knee. Recalling drawing lessons and what her instructor had said once about sketching people, she glanced up at Izzy and initiated easy conversation.
"So, how long have you been playing Quidditch?"
"Since third year, but I only made the first team on my fifth," she responded. A natural extrovert, asking Izzy questions about herself in an effort to draw her out conversationally was the equivalent of waving a big fat juicy steak in front of a starving Hippogriff and wondering if he'd eat it. "Dad persuaded me to try out during third year. He's awfully proud of me for making it to the first time and keeps on reminding me of how he had to convince me to go to the trial in the first place. Truth be told, I don't have the heart to tell him that it was actually the captain then who did it. He wasn't as persuasive as Dad, but he was awfully good-looking." She allowed herself a dry smile. "Half the house fancied him and a conversation in passing with him about how I was a strong flyer did more than any well-meaning advice and encouragement from Dad, me being a thirteen year old girl at the time. Poor Dad."
"Well, I'm sure he'd be proud of his part in the whole matter anyway," Rosalind glanced down at her sketchpad, then back up at Izzy. "I've never really wanted to play Quidditch myself, but I do like to watch it. It should be interesting to see which house wins the cup this year."
"I like the chanceness of it all," Izzy continued. Aware of her tendency to wave her hands around as if conducting traffic while conversing, she'd locked them together in her lap. "How you can have all the strategy and practices in the world, but you can never predict what's going to happen. That said, I'm glad I'm a Chaser and not a Seeker. Someone has to be I suppose, but I couldn't imagine the pressure. And with the house cup it's obvious which team I want to win." She gave Rosalind a small smile to remove any aggression that may have been present in that last statement.
"I wouldn't have expected otherwise," Rosalind said evenly, sketching the curve of the other girl's face with quick, deft strokes. "It should be an interesting year, anyway. Every team has its share of seasoned players, so it's bound to be fairly close. As for Seekers... yes, they do have a great deal of pressure put upon them, but on the other hand, probably fewer strategies and manoeuvres to learn as well. I daresay it's more necessary for a Chaser to learn how to work with others as well."
"Oh, certainly. Which makes it interesting that with the personality clashes between some of the blokes on your team that the Slytherin Chasers seem such a unit when they're playing." Izzy winced. "Don't ever tell Nick I said that incidentally."
"I won't," Rosalind promised, a hint of a smirk crossing her lips for a fleeting moment before it vanished as she eyed her work critically. Perhaps a bit more definition in the brows. "What NEWTs are you taking this year?"
"Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Herbology, Muggle Studies and Potions. I know that five is a bit of a load, but there are people who are taking more and Muggle Studies has a fairly relaxed set-up at NEWT level anyway." She paused. "It feels odd to answer questions about myself and not ask you any, but I figure you might need to concentrate and that way if I only respond, you can stop asking questions when you need quiet."
"I'm fine," Rosalind answered, glancing up for a moment. "Actually, a drawing instructor once told me that talking to a subject both relaxes him or her and makes it easier to hold a pose, and gives the artist a better understanding, which enables a better portrait. But if you want to ask questions of me, you may do so, of course."
Rosalind, while polite, was someone who seemed to keep to her own company and not reveal much of herself. As such, human nature being what it is she was naturally an object of curiosity among more than one Hogwarts student. Izzy herself was part of that group, but as she generally tried her best not to make others uncomfortable, decided against asking personal questions. So instead she queried, "How long have you been drawing for?"
"Since I was about seven or eight, if memory serves," Rosalind answered. "It was something to do at home, you know? To pass the time. And because I really enjoyed doing it, I asked my father if I could take lessons to learn how to do it properly. I can't say that I'm such a great artist or anything, but I can do a decent sketch." She pencilled in a few more locks of Izzy's hair, which privately she thought looked better now than in its typical, meticulously arranged state. "I'm nearly done with yours, by the way."
Izzy made a noise of interest, managing not to lean forward just in time. "I'm hardly difficult to do justice by," she smirked.
"I think that for the most part, everyone's about equally easy-- or difficult-- to do justice to," Rosalind murmured, angling her pencil to shade in cheekbones. "I'd imagine that drawing someone like, for instance, Hagrid-- would take a bit more effort."
"He has very odd features," Izzy agreed. As Seamus had spoken well of the half-giant from his time at school, she was loathe to speak harshly of Hagrid. Her mother's status also made her sensitive of "half-bred" comments, but as Rosalind appeared to be remarking on his appearance rather than his origins, allowed herself to relax. "And no matter how beautiful the subject is some painters, like that Spanish bloke from last century, manage to make them look downright wrong. He couldn't even get their eyes on the right side of their nose." A modern art fan Izzy was not.
Rosalind chuckled lightly at that. "I don't think he was going for accuracy, exactly. It was more the feel of his work. Perhaps that's how he perceived it, his emotional input." The Izzy Finnigan slowly but surely coming to life under her pencil was more somber than usual, but Rosalind didn't think that it was an unattractive sketch. It was rather simple, and wouldn't win any art awards, but she looked rather soft and docile and sweet. Putting a few final touches on it, she set down her pencil. "All right, I think that shall do." Turning the sketchpad around, she showed her handiwork to Izzy.
"Wow," Izzy said, leaning forward carefully to observe the sketch. It didn't look EXACTLY like her, but it was a close enough resemblance and she knew enough of art to realise that the point wasn't to replicate the subject to its entirety. "That's really good," she said truthfully. "I liked how you got the different lightness and darkness of my face using just the one pencil."
"Thanks," Rosalind replied. "It's just shading, really. But I'm glad you like it." As a rule, she didn't tend to give away her sketches, but it only seemed fair to ask, since she did more or less impose on Izzy's time. "Do you want to keep it?"
"No, you can have it," Izzy told her, though the idea of keeping it was tempting. "You did the work and besides, I'm sure if I changed my mind I'm sure there's charms that can make a copy of the original."
"All right," Rosalind nodded. She herself would not have been allowed to perform the necessary charms for that outside of school, but both of them would be back in Hogwarts in less than a month. "I'll keep it with me for now, then. When we're back in school, if you do wish for a copy, I can give it to you then."
"Will do," Izzy said. "Thanks." Free to move again, she rubbed her eyes and realised that she was feeling tired. "I'm not trying to be rude, but I'd really like to get an hour or two of kip before the mob arrives."
"Certainly, and it's understandable," Rosalind nodded, picking up her things. "Thank you for indulging me, by the way. And I do hope you feel better soon."
Where: St Mungo's
When: Visiting hours, 8 March 2022
What: Rosalind pays a social call to the patient and does a sketch.
Status: Complete
Rating: PG
It was an unusually sedate Izzy, both in terms of looks and manner, who sat in her hospital bed propped up by a small army of pillows that the (rather attractive) Irish-supporting trainee had managed to round up for her before his shift had ended. Deprived of its usual arsenal of curling potion and glamour charms, her person seemed to have shrunk a size or two. Her hair was around her shoulders in loose waves and without any make-up she looked younger and more vulnerable than usual. The thought of being sketched au naturel made her feel uneasy, but it was only a drawing after all, not a photograph. Not as though anyone would be seeing her like that other than Rosalind, and the Slytherin girl didn't seem a particularly judgemental type.
Rosalind had said that she would be arriving in about fifteen minutes and while Izzy didn't set much store by punctuality, she had the feeling the sixth year would be different. So she set aside her book and at least made sure that her hair was neatly combed before the girl appeared.
Rosalind Montague's footsteps were quiet and calm as they approached the ward in which the welcome witch had indicated that her schoolmate was staying. Under one arm, she carried a satchel that contained a sketchpad and a few charcoal pencils. It was rather unlike her to pay random visits to people she didn't know very well, but one side benefit of the Muggle Studies journals was that she found herself learning about and on occasion talking to more people. Izzy Finnigan she'd only previously known as that Gryffindor Chaser who had something or another going on with her house's Quidditch captain, but from all accounts, didn't seem to be a particularly unpleasant sort.
She approached Izzy's bed and gave the other girl a faint smile. "Good afternoon. How are you feeling?"
"I've been better." Izzy attempted a smile. "I still feel a bit dizzy if I concentrate on something for too long - not that it's much different to normal, as most people would say," she quipped. On the bedside table next to her was an assortment of chocolates. "Those are from my cousins." She gestured to them. "My father's side of the family and his mum's side at that. Grandpa's a Muggle. I don't know why people feel like they should bring sick people chocolates but help yourself if you like."
"Thanks, but I've eaten already," Rosalind answered. "I just had tea before coming here, actually." She felt the odd compulsion to say something about the Gryffindor's apparent tendency to let what 'most people would say' get to her, which was rather odd, but waited a beat before continuing. "Not everyone's kind or charitable, and it's probably not necessary to take what they say so seriously."
That was an unusual comment. And while Izzy didn't know Rosalind that well, she had an idea that the younger girl was perhaps a keep-to-herself type and therefore not inclined to go about saying things like that. She frowned and paused for a moment before continuing. "Yes, I suppose you're right. But for me I suppose it's easier to be nice than mean - in most instances and to most people - so I have trouble seeing how they seem to enjoy being that way." And not everyone seemed to say hurtful things just to be nasty. Nick for one didn't seem to be trying to upset her, but to say things 'just because.' That and how he was someone she very much liked and whose opinion she valued somehow made it harder to take from him, even though his comments were usually less venomous than the likes of Saraswati Nott.
Normally Izzy would have given these things more thought, but with both her headache and being woken on the hour the previous night really didn't have the motivation or the energy to contemplate them. Her mind growing tired of the topic, she asked, "So how exactly are you going to do this?"
"Well, I've brought a pad and a few charcoals," Rosalind answered, accepting that Izzy didn't want to discuss the other matter any further at the moment. "I know that visitor's hours aren't very long, so it's not likely to be more than a basic sketch. You can keep talking if you wish, or not... just do as you please. You don't have to keep absolutely still or do anything special."
"Alright then," Izzy said with a nod. "Just let me get into a position so that I can comfortably stay that way for a bit." While still nervous about the finished product, it was strangely flattering to have herself drawn. She fluffed up her pillows and then leant back against them, watching Rosalind expectantly.
Rosalind nodded agreeably and while Izzy made herself comfortable, she pulled up a chair to a spot close to the bed where she had both a good vantage point of her subject and a decent amount of light. Taking a seat, she took out the contents of her satchel, and propped the sketchpad down on her knee. Recalling drawing lessons and what her instructor had said once about sketching people, she glanced up at Izzy and initiated easy conversation.
"So, how long have you been playing Quidditch?"
"Since third year, but I only made the first team on my fifth," she responded. A natural extrovert, asking Izzy questions about herself in an effort to draw her out conversationally was the equivalent of waving a big fat juicy steak in front of a starving Hippogriff and wondering if he'd eat it. "Dad persuaded me to try out during third year. He's awfully proud of me for making it to the first time and keeps on reminding me of how he had to convince me to go to the trial in the first place. Truth be told, I don't have the heart to tell him that it was actually the captain then who did it. He wasn't as persuasive as Dad, but he was awfully good-looking." She allowed herself a dry smile. "Half the house fancied him and a conversation in passing with him about how I was a strong flyer did more than any well-meaning advice and encouragement from Dad, me being a thirteen year old girl at the time. Poor Dad."
"Well, I'm sure he'd be proud of his part in the whole matter anyway," Rosalind glanced down at her sketchpad, then back up at Izzy. "I've never really wanted to play Quidditch myself, but I do like to watch it. It should be interesting to see which house wins the cup this year."
"I like the chanceness of it all," Izzy continued. Aware of her tendency to wave her hands around as if conducting traffic while conversing, she'd locked them together in her lap. "How you can have all the strategy and practices in the world, but you can never predict what's going to happen. That said, I'm glad I'm a Chaser and not a Seeker. Someone has to be I suppose, but I couldn't imagine the pressure. And with the house cup it's obvious which team I want to win." She gave Rosalind a small smile to remove any aggression that may have been present in that last statement.
"I wouldn't have expected otherwise," Rosalind said evenly, sketching the curve of the other girl's face with quick, deft strokes. "It should be an interesting year, anyway. Every team has its share of seasoned players, so it's bound to be fairly close. As for Seekers... yes, they do have a great deal of pressure put upon them, but on the other hand, probably fewer strategies and manoeuvres to learn as well. I daresay it's more necessary for a Chaser to learn how to work with others as well."
"Oh, certainly. Which makes it interesting that with the personality clashes between some of the blokes on your team that the Slytherin Chasers seem such a unit when they're playing." Izzy winced. "Don't ever tell Nick I said that incidentally."
"I won't," Rosalind promised, a hint of a smirk crossing her lips for a fleeting moment before it vanished as she eyed her work critically. Perhaps a bit more definition in the brows. "What NEWTs are you taking this year?"
"Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Herbology, Muggle Studies and Potions. I know that five is a bit of a load, but there are people who are taking more and Muggle Studies has a fairly relaxed set-up at NEWT level anyway." She paused. "It feels odd to answer questions about myself and not ask you any, but I figure you might need to concentrate and that way if I only respond, you can stop asking questions when you need quiet."
"I'm fine," Rosalind answered, glancing up for a moment. "Actually, a drawing instructor once told me that talking to a subject both relaxes him or her and makes it easier to hold a pose, and gives the artist a better understanding, which enables a better portrait. But if you want to ask questions of me, you may do so, of course."
Rosalind, while polite, was someone who seemed to keep to her own company and not reveal much of herself. As such, human nature being what it is she was naturally an object of curiosity among more than one Hogwarts student. Izzy herself was part of that group, but as she generally tried her best not to make others uncomfortable, decided against asking personal questions. So instead she queried, "How long have you been drawing for?"
"Since I was about seven or eight, if memory serves," Rosalind answered. "It was something to do at home, you know? To pass the time. And because I really enjoyed doing it, I asked my father if I could take lessons to learn how to do it properly. I can't say that I'm such a great artist or anything, but I can do a decent sketch." She pencilled in a few more locks of Izzy's hair, which privately she thought looked better now than in its typical, meticulously arranged state. "I'm nearly done with yours, by the way."
Izzy made a noise of interest, managing not to lean forward just in time. "I'm hardly difficult to do justice by," she smirked.
"I think that for the most part, everyone's about equally easy-- or difficult-- to do justice to," Rosalind murmured, angling her pencil to shade in cheekbones. "I'd imagine that drawing someone like, for instance, Hagrid-- would take a bit more effort."
"He has very odd features," Izzy agreed. As Seamus had spoken well of the half-giant from his time at school, she was loathe to speak harshly of Hagrid. Her mother's status also made her sensitive of "half-bred" comments, but as Rosalind appeared to be remarking on his appearance rather than his origins, allowed herself to relax. "And no matter how beautiful the subject is some painters, like that Spanish bloke from last century, manage to make them look downright wrong. He couldn't even get their eyes on the right side of their nose." A modern art fan Izzy was not.
Rosalind chuckled lightly at that. "I don't think he was going for accuracy, exactly. It was more the feel of his work. Perhaps that's how he perceived it, his emotional input." The Izzy Finnigan slowly but surely coming to life under her pencil was more somber than usual, but Rosalind didn't think that it was an unattractive sketch. It was rather simple, and wouldn't win any art awards, but she looked rather soft and docile and sweet. Putting a few final touches on it, she set down her pencil. "All right, I think that shall do." Turning the sketchpad around, she showed her handiwork to Izzy.
"Wow," Izzy said, leaning forward carefully to observe the sketch. It didn't look EXACTLY like her, but it was a close enough resemblance and she knew enough of art to realise that the point wasn't to replicate the subject to its entirety. "That's really good," she said truthfully. "I liked how you got the different lightness and darkness of my face using just the one pencil."
"Thanks," Rosalind replied. "It's just shading, really. But I'm glad you like it." As a rule, she didn't tend to give away her sketches, but it only seemed fair to ask, since she did more or less impose on Izzy's time. "Do you want to keep it?"
"No, you can have it," Izzy told her, though the idea of keeping it was tempting. "You did the work and besides, I'm sure if I changed my mind I'm sure there's charms that can make a copy of the original."
"All right," Rosalind nodded. She herself would not have been allowed to perform the necessary charms for that outside of school, but both of them would be back in Hogwarts in less than a month. "I'll keep it with me for now, then. When we're back in school, if you do wish for a copy, I can give it to you then."
"Will do," Izzy said. "Thanks." Free to move again, she rubbed her eyes and realised that she was feeling tired. "I'm not trying to be rude, but I'd really like to get an hour or two of kip before the mob arrives."
"Certainly, and it's understandable," Rosalind nodded, picking up her things. "Thank you for indulging me, by the way. And I do hope you feel better soon."