Hogwarts 2022 - Great Hall

[Frogger]

Morning bloomed in a breathtaking array of colors, blue, pink, purple and red painting the Forbidden Forest to create a surprisingly picturesque scene. Already the day promised to be blistering hot, being so humid as it is - and so early. Professor Zachariah Glass ran a hand through his hair, several pieces of silvery-blond swaying and tumbling over the man’s shoulders like liquid moonlight. It is rare he is in the public eye during daylight hours, but with his first lessons just hours away, he felt obligated to prepare… despite the fact he had it all planned out accordingly. Well, it never hurts to check over it again. A hand rubbing at a sore spot between neck and shoulder, Professor Glass let his gaze sweep along the four tables fostering the next generation of students.

It seems it is not just he who wants to be prepared for the new school year. In the earlier hours, when the moon was high and the stars on full display, Zachariah had ventured below to take care of other matters when he caught a glimpse of a female student. Of course he has no way of knowing her name already, but she was… unlike any other he has set eyes on before. Question is, what House does she belong to? What year? And what was she doing? Eyes as blue as a clear winter sky, he lifted his mug of coffee to his lips, taking a sip until the fog obscuring his mind dissipated somewhat. It is… to be expected, seeing as how he had only slept for… five? Six hours? Zachariah inhaled the aroma wafting up deeply, just to sigh and set the mug down. Part of him wants to compliment the student on her studious pursuit of knowledge… but he is a Professor, and so, he must inquire about her intentions behind the experiments.

Headmistress Rose glanced over, curiosity flickering in those hazel eyes, and yet she did not ask any questions. Perhaps later she will… however, that remains to be seen. He and her have yet to develop any sort of relationship beyond pleasantries, so of course they have… awkward moments. Zachariah let his head dip down in a respectful nod, only to bring his gaze back to the students. Ah, yes. There she is.

The embodiment of cool grace, Zachariah stepped down from behind the High Table… light playing over the silvery-blond hair he inherited from his mother, the blue eyes he inherited from his father. Another pair lifted, just shades darker, lifted up, only for a smile just as lovely as the sunrise to burst forth. “Good morning, Uncle,” Stella greeted, and he bestowed upon her a rare smile, meant for her and her alone.

“Good morning, kiddo,” he retaliated, even going so far as to ruffle her hair. “I will see you in class later.”

Two tables down, Gryffindor awaits. It was here he had located the student in question, chatting with another student over a plate of breakfast delicacies. As delicious as it looks, Zachariah has other matters to attend to. A hand emerged from deep within a pocket and, leaning forward, he placed it just next to her plate… making it to where he was hovering over her. Being this close, there was no escaping the seductive, playful, sweet and sensual scent of his shampoo clinging to his skin after the shower he had taken an hour prior… or the heat radiating off him. “May I have a moment of your time?” Zachariah inquired, even though he already knew the answer.

@Ahlanna

 

[Ahlanna]

O, morning, thou foul nemesis! She wasn't exactly sure if someone had said that, but they certainly _should_ have. True, some of her compatriots had started smuggling in espresso charms, but Eleanor felt it was best not to swallow anything remotely mind-affecting without a bit more study as to what goes into it. So she would just have to tough it out.

Which isn't helped by her insistence at getting started on her wardrobe and hair before the other students were up. Resources like showers and sinks – and for that matter hot water – were not unlimited, and what was she going to do? Get into a situation where she had to rush her face? No daughter of Selwyn was going to be caught dead without a little liner and a lot of lash. Besides, it helped around the common room, played into the aire of untouchable Eleanor. Nothing easily purchased was truly valued. A little mystery, a little distance … these went a long way. Sure, she probably wouldn't win many popularity contests – not with the girls, anyhow. But hey, at least she wasn't Charlotte.

Anyhow, after preparations are done, she heads down to the Great Hall, first pacing through some extra rooms to make sure she's not unfashionably early. During breakfast, she chats briefly with others in her house, while cutting off bits of éclair, or a slice of bacon and spearing them with her fork – unlike most of the others who just use their fingers. At one point, she glares over at the Hufflepuff table. Titus. One day soon. Just you wait. But she looks back to her plate before things can get too awkward.

Eleanor is just chewing on some sausage when her nose sniffs something unusual. She's always had some interest in alchemy, and study of potion and herb has sharpened her ability to detect a rogue scent. Therefore she quickly swallows and dabs at her lips with a napkin even before the voice drifts down. Shoulders turning slightly, her hair teases past as her head inclines, glancing up to the towering source.

Oh! It was the new professor. Which meant …

The faintest hint of a pucker comes to pink lips before she quashes it. "Oh, hello. Of course I have time for a professor." She tries her best to sound bright and chipper, more like teacher's pet and not guilty party. Folding up her napkin, she stands and smooths out her uniform's skirt, waiting for the professor to indicate what comes next.

 

[Frogger]

‘For a Professor?’ Is she implying that, if I were anyone else, she would refuse?

Intriguing. Zachariah’s eyebrow lifted, but other than that he gave no suggestion to his innermost thoughts. Having moved back to give her room, both hands disappeared deep into his pockets… which is a position that, surprisingly enough, not just highlighted the man’s shoulders, but also the way his plain black shirt clings a little to the planes of his chest. Those blue eyes watched her the whole while.

“Thank you,” he replied at great length, after realizing belatedly that he did not give her an answer earlier. “I do appreciate you sparing your… precious time outside of class.” A hand came up in order to brush away several strands of hair, tucking these behind an ear. “If you would be so kind as to follow me.” Zachariah used the same hand to gesture to the front of the Great Hall, where they will be away from curious eyes or ears. “After you.” It is… amusing, to think that he has yet to start lessons, yet he is having to enact upon his duties as a Professor already. How many other Professors have had to do the same? Zachariah let his gaze drift back to the Ravenclaw, where a group of students were laughing together. To think he used to be in their position only… how many years ago?

No, no. Is there a reason he is going down this nostalgic path? Zachariah scoffed at himself, though his expression gave nothing away except a vague sense of annoyance. It required more effort than it should have to redirect his attention back to the situation currently unfolding. Perhaps he should have waited until he had another cup of coffee… but if he had, time would not have been of the essence. Many conversations ebbed and flowed, rising and falling over the general noise of forks scraping, knives cutting and cups set down a touch too hard. It was… a relief to leave it all behind, though it will not be forgotten so easily. It was only muffled.

Zachariah twisted to where he faced the young lady, eyes focusing on hers. As much as he hates to admit it, even to himself… she was rather lovely. Her hair is a sleek and sophisticated color that is neither blond or brown, but somewhere in the realm of between, and her eyes… what color are they? It is difficult to name the precise shade… Zachariah went to clear his throat, a little startled with his line of thinking.

“Do you mind sharing with me what you were doing last night?”

Is she going to play innocent? Or is she going to confess and be honest? He will find out soon enough.

 

[Ahlanna]

Coffee, ironically. At least, if asking Eleanor about the shade of her eyes. Which, of course, no one was. And that was just fine with her, as said coffee-eyes glance slightly left, then right, trying to pick up on who was watching her and the teacher. Some of the 'claw. A few Slytherin. Probably nothing to worry about. One of the advantages of being of good stock is an inbuilt expectation that you hung out with authority. At least, a little.

Follow me … after you? Eleanor quirks a hint of a smile at the confused direction, but agrees anyhow, "Of course, professor."

Figuring the last instruction was the controlling direction, Eleanor moves as instructed, legs rustling within her over-robe in sable and Gryffindor red. Dark skirt lay modestly beneath, only visible from the front as the robe swishes about. Shirt and tie under sweater-vest above. The Hogwarts usual. At least for students.

No chance this is a coincidence. Did he see me? How could he have … shit, I'm an idiot, he used magic. Whether it is true or not, Eleanor mentally kicks herself. Always use a Nondetection Charm when up to mischief! What a fourth-year mistake!

Once reaching the designated spot, hands clasp together behind her back, chin slightly elevated as if she believes this is an inspection.

"I …", pausing, her eyes crawl up to the professor's. Whether telling the truth, lying or just stalling, always look 'em in the eye. "… apologize for disturbing any equipment. I just thought …" shoulders lifting and falling in a sigh, "… you're going to think it's silly."

Glancing to the left, embarrassment not entirely faked, she adds, "It's a new school year, you know? I just figured maybe a little divination wouldn't hurt."

 

[Frogger]

Zachariah’s eyes finally met hers, and it was then that he realized just what color he could compare hers to - coffee. Of course he would not say black, but perhaps a fresh cup with a generous amount of cream and sugar… The young lady’s eyes had depths of color, not only one shade of dark brown but several, making it fairly tempting to take a closer look. Perhaps it was the lack of caffeine, or perhaps it was the insufficient sleep… but he did dare to step in a little closer, so roughly six or eight inches separated he and her.

“From what I caught a glimpse of last night, it appears you were doing a bit more than a little divination,” he murmured.

“Do not take this the wrong way. I applaud your sense of… dedication, to study ahead… but I do have to ask that you do not break school curfew again. It is for your safety that you exercise caution. I do not want anything to happen to you, or to your fellow students. What if… something you did not anticipate or expect were to occur? Hm?”

More than likely, this is not going to stop her from sneaking out of the dormitory again… or from doing whatever her heart desires. If so… what is the best course of action here? Zachariah let his gaze study her, all while his mind went to work unraveling different possible solutions.

A sigh left the man at long last, both hands appearing from within his pockets in order to start tying his long hair up in a ponytail. At the moment, it was getting a little on his nerves.

“Look,” Zachariah spoke up again, but on another sigh, “I know this will… not deter you. I know how it is. I do. I just… I ask that…” Uh oh. Where is he going with this? Zachariah cracked an eye open, light reflecting off icy blue. “I do not want anything to happen to you, or to anyone in this castle.”

If Headmistress Rose were to know of this, he could be in serious trouble…

“Get the impulse again, let me know ahead of time. I am up at night. I usually stay up. I would feel better if you had… company.” It would offend anyone if he was to use the word ‘supervision’. Merlin, it would offend him.

 

[Ahlanna]

One of the issues with having a Death Eater father – rumored, of course – is that one's parents are always advising to be especially respectful to authority figures. Don't give them any more reason to look too deeply into your affairs. Numerous parties and balls at the manor shaped certain instincts. Though there were exceptions – still got a giggle out of that time she'd lit that creepy Auror's robe on fire, despite her parents' wroth – the slog of time meant that Eleanor's default position was not to challenge new authority figures.

So it would hardly be surprising to note that after the initial glance upward to identify the Professor, she'd been avoiding direct eye contact. But then he closes, moving to the very edge of that unseen envelope of inviolable personal space. Forced to essentially look up or down, her chin rises, eyes crawling up his unfamiliar form …

Oh … he's *hot*

Brown eyes widen slightly, lips part just the tiniest bit. The Hogwarts professors had definitely been getting easier on the eyes over the years. Whereas professor Dellet had a classically handsome charm, this new instructor was really working the exotic foreigner angle. Striking eyes, sloping jaw, slender chin. Less raw strength, and more … beauty. Dangly bangs, like her own, straight all-business up top – like her own – and now he was pulling it back into a ponytail? Like her own?

"Oh, no, you shouldn't do that." One hand starts to reach upwards, before she catches herself and lowers it again, "Over the shoulders, a little bit messy … playful and not caring what others thi ---"

Eep! Is she giving looking-sexy tips to her teacher?!

Suddenly, she looks down and away, "I-I'm sorry. I mean, I just … sorry. Your hair is nice."

Flushing with embarrassment, she wills the stammer out of her voice, "In any case, I try to anticipate a lot. That's … well, it's why I check the stars, actually. Control for any rogue variables."

She doesn't really know what to say to the final 'offer'. A chaperone on after-dark excursions? Was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? Or is it just foreigner struggling with wayward implications?

As stated, Eleanor did prefer to understand all elements in a situation. At some point, she doubtless would need to figure out just which of the possibilities Professor Glass had been suggesting.

"Oh. That's ah – very generous of you, sir. Perhaps later this week?"

 

[Frogger]

Taken aback, Zachariah had paused in the act of tying his hair up, several strands slipping away to brush against the graceful curve of his jaw. An eyebrow lifted, many a question swirling within those eyes that so resemble an icy storm… and yet, he decided not to implore her to elaborate. No, not right then. Perhaps later… after he gets rid of the memory of her lovely flush from his mind. It was a delicate shade of pink, not unlike the petals of a rose… and, given her studious nature, a rare occurrence? It is likely, but presumptuous to assume as such.

A small, almost indiscernible smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Amusement replaced the confusion just a moment later, making the ice captured in his eyes melt around the edges. "Thank you," Zachariah replied, his voice an octave lower than before. "Your hair is nice as well." Do all teenage girls spend an incredible amount of time on their appearance?

Eleanor is lovely without the help of cosmetics.

Light reflected and refracted off silver as it cascaded down his back, a little bit messy, a little playful - just as she described it earlier. A hand did take this opportunity to pull it all over one shoulder, so it was a rope hanging. "I understand anticipating any and all possibilities, but it does not hurt to use a little more caution in your pursuit of knowledge. I do ask that you let me know ahead of time when you are going to be undergoing your… after-dark excursions. Fair?" Zachariah placed both hands on his hips, the action making the black shirt tighten a little across his chest.

"And yes, I am available all this week."

 

[Ahlanna]

Probably not all teenage girls, but Eleanor is certainly one who puts the effort in. In her book, until you get to really know someone, appearance is the majority of the information with which you have to inform your prejudices.

Did I really just make a date with a professor?! No, of course not. Just helping him feel at ease at Hogwarts. Leveraging social connections was a long family tradition with House Selwyn. That's all it was. Even if he was a bit on the smoking side. Which she is totally not thinking about. Even when he preens his shirt taut over his chest.

OK. Maybe a little then, but that's OK, because it was eye-level for her, and therefore easier to get away with.

"I … uh, yes. That seems … fair." Not that she really plans to get pre-clearance for every duck out of the dorms, but she's certainly prepared to lie about it. Which puts her back in familiar social territory, allowing her brown eyes to brighten, tossing the awkwardness behind her. Pleasant, toothy smile of pearl returns as she beams upward, "Sorry for the trouble, sir, I am looking forward to learning from you. My zodiac permutations of probability are pretty solid, but I still don't quite get the impact of some of the more esoteric conjuctions."

Which is actually true. With an Arithmancy talent and a planner's mindset, Eleanor tends to have an advantage on the more complex and difficult aspects of a subject, where other students scream. Only to get tripped up on the more 'artsy' bits that others find easier.

Freed of some of the accidental heat of the encounter, her eyes began to wander, trying to pick up on who among the Great Hall might be watching her or Professor Glass. Or at least three-fourths of the gathering, as she studiously avoids eye-contact with Hufflepuff.