Fandom Octowizard Tournament // Wizarding World // RP Thread

[Sanctuaryforall1]

• Aurelia Quansah

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  Aurelia Quansah
  Uagadou - Female - Pure Blood - Secondary
  
  
  
  The smile that was already painted upon Aurellia’s lips widened as a sweet chuckle escaped her throat at Mey’s words. “Sworn enemies seems a bit overrated.” She teased back and tilted her head in a moment of playful consideration. “I think we should take the risk of being rebels and pursue a friendship instead, sounds far more fun than the stress of having an arch nemesis.” She pointed out with a fun-loving wink as the rain pelted down upon them, rolling over her skin and through her braids in a way that brought back many fond memories of stormy mornings spent on the wet sand beaches of Mauritius Island watching the white-capped waves crash against the shore. Tilting her face towards the sky for a moment she just let the heavy beads of water splatter across her skin and took a deep breath as the rivulets ran down her forehead, over her closed eyelids, across her cheeks and jaw, to race down her neck. Smiling she faced Mey again and pointed to a small booth set up to the edge of the course where fliers could easily reach to adjust the obstacles if they so desired. “What do you say my friend Mey?” She called over the rain. “Shall we see what else this course can do?” She inquired and waited to see the other girl’s face light up with curiosity and delight before angling her broom towards the booth.
  
  Cutting through the sky Auri held on tight as she swooped towards the booth, reeling her broom to a stop as she swiftly dismounted, the soles of her shoes hitting the soaked platform beneath her. Luckily for everyone who enjoyed the course in all weathers, the controls were magic, not electronic, so being out in the elements didn’t affect if the controls would work or wear out. Stepping to the side as Mey dismounted beside her she leaned her broom against a simple wooden broom rack and stepped towards the controls, not really caring that the platform was covered in puddles that had formed from the pouring rain. “Mey, you have to come take a look at this.” She called over to the young woman from Koldovstoretz as her onyx gaze scanned the dozens upon dozens of controls that changed different aspects and obstacles on the course. “No wonder Ilvermorny claims this as one of their greatest assets, I’ve never seen a training course with such intricacies before.” She muttered in awe as she gently brushed her hand over the smooth carved stone buttons that glowed with magic and seemed completely unaffected by the rain. As little droplets pelted down upon the device their watermarks vanished almost instantly, as though some sort of spell kept the controls in perfect condition at all times.
  
  Glancing over at Mey the young heiress-to-be smirked and nodded towards a button that resembled several flames. “Three guesses what that might do.” She purred playfully before turning to look around a bit more. “I wonder if they have some sort of instruction manual for this?” She muttered softly. It would be silly to trust that visitors know exactly how to handle such a machine without the risk of possibly damaging the course. Peering into a few cubbies and crates nearby all Auri was able to find were some spare bats for beaters to practice with, some flight padding, a few sets of goggles, and some candy wrappers someone shoved into the bottom of a drawer. “Huh, guess they think it's pretty self-explanatory.” She shrugged as she stood back up and met Mey’s earthy gaze which seemed to have returned to her from where the brunette had been closely studying a few of the buttons a few feet away.
  
  Walking back over to stand beside the shorter young woman Auri looked the controls over again. “If you give me a day or two I am sure I can find something in the library to tell us how to work it.” She offered still wanting to make certain that the two of them, two visiting students who were secondaries for their teams, didn’t end up breaking one of the prized gems of the host school. She had a feeling doing such a thing would be a bad look on them. “You can help if you’d like. No pressure though. I know libraries aren’t exactly for everyone unless they need to do a report.” She chuckled, her words warm and sweet like hot tea and honey. “But I wouldn’t mind the company.” She added wanting to make certain Mey understood how truly welcome she was to join her if she so wished.
  
  
  
  Mentions: Mey honeycoves
  
  
  
  
  TEMPLATE © BOKEH
  

 

[WanderLust.]

LYSSA MONTISSERO
CASTELOBRUXO SECONDARY

Nervous

Ilvermorny - Dormitories

Auguste @Pyroclast

Click Me!

Auguste’s dorm room was exceedingly similar to Lyssa’s own room. To the left of the four pane window sat a single bed with a polished wood frame and a mattress so thin she found herself questioning if Ilvermorny was struggling with the funding to maintain proper dormitory furnishings. To the right of the window there was a bunk bed, the top bunk seemed to have been slept in already. Auguste’s roommate, whomever that might’ve been, was evidently not a very tidy person. The bed was unmade and there were dirty clothes strewn about the floor which Lyssa stepped over carefully.

She tried her best not to resemble her namesake, a quivering, wide-eyed fawn, as she entered the bedroom of a near perfect stranger. Try to make friends. She reminded herself mentally. It’ll be good for you to get out of your shell. A gentle squawking noise caused her head to snap in the direction of its source, a flush of adrenaline surging through her momentarily before she discerned it was an inky black crow perched atop the wooden wardrobe.

“Oh, you are not afraid of birds, I hope? His name is Garan, he is a friend of mine. I managed to bring him with me from France. He comes with me everywhere. You can ignore him if you want.”

A warm, unfiltered smile graced Lyssa’s features as she reached out her middle and index finger towards the bird, ruffling his feathers lightly along his neck. “I love birds.” She had admitted it without even thinking. It came out as easily as breathing, which - quite frankly - wasn’t always easy for the perpetually terrified. “Olá, Garan. Lindo pássaro.”

She was taken back to the summer of her thirteenth year. The summer she had fled her mother’s home in San Jose, when her father had brought her back to the penthouse in Rio. She barely left her bed for months, all she had been able to bring herself to do was watch the native birds fly outside her bedroom window. She remembered counting how many of each color she saw per day. Three blue macaws on Tuesday, two yellow parakeets on Thursday.

“Sit.”

Lyssa did as she was bid, seating herself rigidly on the single bed to the left next to Auguste’s suitcase as he withdrew a small, blue bottle from a cloth pouch. Lyssa tilted her head, trying to read whatever was scribbled on the label but once again found herself unable to translate french.

“May I?”

Auguste had wetted a small cloth with the contents of the blue bottle and was gesturing towards Lyssa’s arms. It took her a moment to register what exactly he was asking permission to do. With a whispered “Oh-” and the faintest hint of a blush rising to her cheeks, Lyssa gingerly rolled up the crimson stained sleeves of her cream colored top, wincing slightly as she did so.

The scrapes on her elbows were no longer actively bleeding, but they were still sore to the touch. The flesh painted angry hues of red and purple where they were beginning to bruise from the violent impact.

“I am not good at potions, but this one is just herbology. I get quite good at making it, because it is so easy - you make a powder of dittany leaf and then add salty water, et voilà, you have healing potion! It cleanses and heals, and also reduces scars.”

Lyssa’s honeyed amber gaze momentarily flicked up to meet Auguste’s at the mention of herbology. She had become accustomed to her peers thinking rather lowly of the subject, describing it as boring and lackluster. Was it possible that Auguste, like her, fostered the same admiration for the wizarding world's flora and fauna? She was so enamored by the possibility that she didn’t even notice the way the injuries on her elbows had miraculously disappeared, leaving in their place only smooth, pale skin.

“Thank you…” her gaze lingered for a moment longer, perhaps a moment too long. “Uh, Merci.” She tried again, using her limited french vocabulary with a sheepish smile.

Without missing a beat, Auguste went on to answer her earlier question. Describing in great detail the small town in the Pyrenees where he had grown up. Lyssa listened intently, curious about the potatoes grown in his town, one of Lyssa’s very favorite dishes was twice baked potato soup.

“I love it, but…don’t go to Urepel.” His laugh was light and airy. “It is not fun to visit. Beauxbatons is in the Pyrenees also, but it is a grand château, a big white palace. We wear uniform the colour of summer sky. It is all very…strange to me. I grew up comme un moldu…uh…a muggle…so I only start to learn magic from two years until now. The life at Beauxbatons is strange, but maybe not more strange than at Ilvermorny, or Castel…Castelbruja?”

“Castelobruxo.” She answered softly, chewing on her lower lip as she did so. “I’m muggle born as well,” there was a strained pause, as if Lyssa were debating whether or not she should disclose more on her parentage.

Seemingly satisfied with the state of Lyssa’s healed injuries, Auguste made note of his handiwork. “Tac tac tac…et voilà! As if by magic!” She responded with a soft, bittersweet laugh. “As if.” she repeated, raising one eyebrow as she did so. There was something soothing about Auguste’s presence, something that made her heart beat slower and her breathing come easier. She wished she was able to go about her day with the same ease that he projected.

Auguste went on to claim that he talked too much about himself, and though Lyssa had been about to tell him that she quite liked hearing about his life, he raised a poignant truth. They were opponents in an extremely competitive tournament. Was it really the best idea for them to become so friendly with one another?

“So…will you tell me more about you, and your life in Portugal? I’m certain it will be more interesting than my life with potatoes.”

Lyssa hesitated. Was there truly anything about her life that was more interesting than Auguste’s potatoes? Perhaps… but only the worst parts of it. The parts she didn’t want to disclose, not to her father, not to anyone, especially not a handsome stranger.

“Oh…unless you want to go and change your pull?”

“Yes, actually.” She tried not to audibly breathe a sigh of relief at the escape route Auguste had offered her. This was enough socializing for one day. “I should probably change before someone sees me and starts asking questions.” She rose to her feet, smoothing her skirt with the palms of her hands as she did so. “Obrigado. Thank you… for your help, Auguste.”

She offered him a sweet smile before taking her leave and heading back towards her dorm to change out of her bloodied sweater.

 

[honeycoves]

Chitrita Pawar

@

luvchtrta

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  00:42

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  liability

  
  
  
  

  lorde

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  11:01

  
  

  :

  tournament

  
  
  

  new !

  
  

  
  
  
  

  you've been promoted to champion

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  10:59

  
  

  :

  NOTIF

  
  
  

  new !

  
  

  
  
  
  

  guilt

  is eating you alive.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  !

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
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  mood

  
  

  Guilty > confident, maybe a bit peckish

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  location

  
  

  Theo's room > dorm hall

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  outfit

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  tags

  
  

  Altair TobiornotTobi Vasu Aviator Naomi Sanctuaryforall1 Theo WanderLust.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  details

  
  
  

  
  
  

!

details

i'm a good girl. promise.

When Theo returned her advances, something twisted in Chitrita's stomach. Something that told her this was wrong. And not in the deliciously fun way she so often enjoyed. She loved doing the wrong thing, the heart-pounding thrill of doing something enticingly dishonest. Lying, breaking the rules, cheating. It was all familiar game to her. So why was this different? She'd messed around behind boyfriends' backs before. What was the harm of keeping Theo for herself while she was with Vasu? Did he really have to know? She had never had a fiancé before. Was that really the difference? A title? Or perhaps, it was because she knew her future was dangerously entangled in that boy. With their impending marriage, a misstep early could set things off in a bad tone for the rest of her life. Really, she couldn't trust herself to be covert enough to skirt Vasu's suspicion. She had never cared before if a boyfriend got suspicious, but she certainly did now. Yet here she was, brazenly flirting with Theo in front of a witness she knew could not be trusted to shut his trap.
Really, going to lunch and escaping this tiny hell she had inadvertently created was the much more appealing option than remaining here, on this bed. The bed shook with enough force to nearly coerce a reaction out of her. The alarm that echoed through her body attempted to show on her face, but the perfectly practiced expression of neutrality hardly budged. Instead, she rose to her feet, mentally brushing off Theo's temper as she physically straightened out her prim, pink uniform. She cleared her throat to beckon Altair's attention and offered him a bright, sunny smile. "Ready?" His cheery disposition seemed unchanged given the blatant unfriendliness he'd been greeted with, hopping up and tossing around his dice without much care. His happiness was almost infectious. Almost.

She shrugged at his question, mulling it over. She hadn't spent much time really speaking to anyone at all to decide if anyone really was note worthy. She had refused to peaceably converse with any of the boys on her dance card, and the conversations she had with Theo and Vasu last night were arguably short. She had seen Kiara Sinclaire in action, a young woman who moved purposefully and gracefully and showed great potential in charms. She really had only talked to a handful of professors since her arrival, and primarily Cha-Cha at that. She resisted the urge to glower at the thought of that man. "Not really, most of the students have been fairly dull," She rolled her eyes slightly, recalling that dreadful dance where her poor toes had been stomped to death. "So far I've only really met Theo and the Koldovstoretz champion." She left out Vasu's name and their connection. She felt like she was protecting something. Like Vasu's name was not meant to be shared, but rather hers to keep.

This time Chitrita couldn't hide her scowl. What is with these idiot boys and their incessant need to gamble? She thought, recalling Vasu's proposal for a betting game just the night before. This game seemed absolutely ridiculous, guessing the numbers of dice that large was beyond improbable. She was about ready to dismiss him with a wave of her hand— really, this boy needed to study anyway if he was going to keep up in this study track— when something caught her ear. Prize money. Prize money. Prize money! Chitrita was a champion now, just as she wished, which meant there was monetary gain on the line. Money that could help the family business. Money where a portion could be tucked away for her own future, if she needed. Money that might equal a freedom to make her own choices. She simpered, suddenly feeling much more amenable to Altair's proposition. Really, the chances of him guessing were only... less than .5%. She liked those odds.

"Fine," She agreed, folding her arms across her chest. "But!" She leveled a stern gaze. "We have to study tomorrow. We're not going to win if we aren't prepared." Altair excitedly called out his guess, jostled the dice, and released them out onto the floor at her feet. She quickly dropped into a low squat, prepared to examine them as they fell. Her brows knit together. 13 and 17... In the exact order Altair had predicted. "No way!" She protested, snatching the dice in her hands and rising. .5%, that was nearly unachievable on its own. But guessing the correct order? That brought Altair's chances down to a quarter of a percent. There was no way he was that lucky. That was supernatural. "These dice are weighted!" She accused with a glare. "Layla, if you tricked me into playing a fixed game—" A door opened across from them, making her painfully aware of how dramatic she was being. She glanced at the girl who had just emerged, pink-haired and absurdly dressed, and leaned in closely to Altair, slapping his dice into his hand. "You totally cheated and I know it." She whispered. She turned, prepared to march down the hall after Theo, when a second figure emerged.

"Vasu!" She greeted, a song-like tone to her voice. Leaving is room with a girl? Perhaps she would've been right to seek a physical connection to Theo. Chitrita was smiling. It was so effortless it should've looked genuine. She withdrew her hand from Altair's, their trade of dice over. Something shimmered in her chest. She felt wronged in this moment. She felt like she should be embarrassed by witnessing him in this girl together, like she should look as mortified as Vasu looked. But she knew this moment was a precarious balancing act. Altair needed to know the smiling, sweet school girl whose reputation as a brainiac was her most defining feature. Vasu needed to see her as a strong, confident figure that he should fear. While those weren't mutually exclusive, meeting in the middle might discredit the persona of the other. She placed one hand on Altair's shoulder, leaning in closely and cupping her mouth with the other. "That's the Koldovstoretz boy I was telling you about." She whispered with a cheeky smile, keeping her dark eyes trained on Vasu.

"Altair, I'd like you to meet Vasu." She said aloud to the group, gesturing from one boy to the other. "Vasu, this is Altair. They sent him here Mahoutokoro this morning to help me with the tournament." She stole a glance Theo, whose back was now retreating down the stairs and out of sight. She felt a small surge of relief. Thank god she didn't have to deal with all three of her boys at the same time. Her boys. The phrase was a funny thought, but really, she couldn't argue that it was untrue. Her fiancé. Her bodyguard. Her... friend. That word just felt unnatural. Perhaps Vasu felt the same about his friend. "Are you gonna introduce us to your friend?" She asked, her tone teetering the line of pure innocence and a thickly veiled threat. Her smile was unwavering. She reached out for the handshake. "I know there were those fancy introductions last night, but I was just so nervous I couldn't focus—" Lie. "You're from Beauxbatons, right? All of you Beauxbatons students are so pretty. I'm Chitrita." Vasu's fiancée. She wanted to add it, but somehow this felt like she was keeping Vasu under her thumb.

She looked to Altair and then back to the unwelcome duo. "Altair and I were just about to go get some lunch with a friend if you two would like to join?" She invited with an earnest eyebrow raise. She allowed a pause to hang in the air for a second, then pretended to read some sort of hesitation or discomfort between Vasu and the pink-haired girl. She hoped they were uncomfortable. "Oh, please don't let us interrupt you. If you had other plans or something more important to attend to—" She vaguely gestured at the girl's hospital-chic get-up, "—I swear we're not offended." She prayed that they felt ensnared by an obligation to join and were torturing themselves with the decision to stay or go. "Here, we'll walk you down regardless." She started towards the stairs, trio in tow.

"Theo!" She called ahead, nearly smirking. "Do you mind if Vasu and his friend join us?" Emboldened by her own scheme, she now felt confident enough to marry her quartet together(ugh, okay quintet if she had to include pink-haired girl, but Chitrita was confident her addition would be short-lived).

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[TobiornotTobi]

Sigurd Berg
Ilvermorny Library
"...Of course it was a hardcover."​

---

Despite being in his natural habitat, Sigurd's mind was not at ease. Something had happened that resulted in Piper's injury and he had questions of his own to ask of his classmate. Was this a natural affliction? Or could it perhaps be the product of sabotage by a rival school? If worst came to worst and Piper's episode was caused by another person, then this wouldn't be the last of Sigurd's troubles regarding the subject. Clara Winter's removal and Cosmo's departure meant that as of early this morning, Piper was the sole member of the Durmstrang team. If this information was discovered by an unsavory type, then the final piece of the puzzle to topple the Scandinavian wizarding school would be to take his classmate out of the picture as well. And now that Sigurd had been selected to replace Clara, could this mean that he was now squarely in the crosshairs of this antagonist? The theory had wings, but further investigation was required. Sigurd has just finished asking the first of many questions he needed answers to when his eyes were spared little time to notice a green blur in their peripheral view. Moments later, a sharp pain flared up from his shoulder. As his hand instinctively moved to the point of impact and rubbed it, Sigurd changed the target of his gaze from Piper to Kiara across the table. The French student had a look of disdain on her face that wasn't present until he had opened his mouth. It took little critical thinking to determine who had repurposed their book into a blunt weapon. The Norwegian winced in pain and took her in, dumbfounded by her attack.

This newfound 'friend' of his was a walking contradiction. Clumsy, yet focused and far from air-headed. He bore witness to that in History of Magic. Compassionate and a staunch defender, but also a piercing øks to whoever drew her ire. Sigurd saw both sides of her as they made their way to the library. The trip to the library, and that hooligan in the dining hall. Sharp as a whip, but headstrong and volatile. And as Sigurd recovered from the sting of said whip, his voice returned to him at last. Gradually, he straightened up and mirrored her stare of dissatisfaction. After her assurance to Piper that he didn't have to talk about the incident, Sigurd shelved away his shock and attempted to restore his poker face. The task proved difficult, however. Ultimately, his impatience for answers and embarrassment at being reprimanded like a disobedient pet prompted Sigurd to pinch his forehead. The pain at least served to temper his tone. "I think Piper is more than capable of expressing what he does and doesn't want to do."

Proving his point, the taller boy's silence determined that Sigurd would have to address the situation at a later date. Meanwhile, whoever was responsible would have a chance to reload and reassess. If there is anyone, Sigurd strained to correct himself. His upbringing and training from Father taught him that paranoia was healthy in moderate doses. But common sense dictated that he considers all options before casting judgement. Changing the subject, the Durmstrang champion tuned in to Kiara's answer as to why she took such a physical approach to the bully. The first thing he noticed was her prompt and immediate response. His opinion was unchanged since the incident. It was not well thought out, it was careless, it was foolish, . One should keep their emotions in check as to not overextend and display their hand. Father taught him as much, although sometimes he strayed away from his own advice. But while his condemnation was unwavering, so was the small part of him impressed by her swift action and altruistic answer. It was something he would never do, as there was too much at stake to risk fighting for somebody else. But he could admire it, even as said admiration was currently wrestling with his annoyance at being hit by a book.

Right before he could begin to ponder where his opinion truly stood with Kiara Sinclaire, Piper took the opportunity to once more prove exactly why he was an excellent choice as a secondary. He was privy to a meeting of the professors? Where not only did he learn of the first challenge, but memorized an entire riddle? This was just what Sigurd needed, a lightning rod to tack his focus to. The path to victory just became very clear. A book on general athleticism would offer tips and techniques on maintaining his endurance. And although obstacle course screamed physical ability, there was no doubt that there would be a magical element in the mix. And he might not be ready at the moment, but Sigurd knew for a fact that he was sitting next to the perfect training partner. A good night's rest would clear any lingering symptoms, then they could get to work honing the charms he would need to secure an early win.

Sigurd's elevated mood was dampened at Piper's curtness after he responded to his question about possessions. Had he offended him at some point? Perhaps he had been too hasty in searching for answers. It hadn't even been a full hour since the traumatic experience. Professor Einar directed him and Kiara to be there for the only other remaining Scandinavian student. Sigurd turned to face him, breathing and thinking heavily. The way his voice lost the power behind it after Clara, perhaps it was sadness over losing a familiar face. No. That wasn't it, couldn't be it. Piper was grown and talented enough to be here for the tournament. He should be dealt with at a higher standard. He was cleared by the nurses, so that should be enough to treat him as normal. And as for his woes over losing his two friends, Durmstrang's new champion was the one who needed support. Sigurd needed the know, because knowledge was going to be his guiding light in this mission of his. His mission of restoring his family name and redeeming Father. Running a hand over his mouth, Sigurd questioned himself as to why he was going over this while having so much work before him. Sigurd was about to step away from the table and begin his search for reading material when Piper followed up with a more apt description of what he wanted. Every fiber of his being wanted to set to work advancing his own goals, but he owed Piper his attention. Without his information, Sigurd would never have gotten this edge over the other competitors.

"Other creatures that can possess wizards? Well, Ghosts for starters. There are also other spirits who can, such as a poltergeist. Those are the ones I know off the top of my head." Piper spent little time processing the answer before following up with another. And before he could talk about the Imperius curse, Piper went into even more detail. Sigurd nodded along and listened closely, wracking his mind for a dark creature that better fit his description. One that took over your mind temporarily, but seized full control and left you with no memory afterwards? One obvious choice popped into his mind. While thinking of others, Sigurd couldn't help but notice Piper's body language. It was more contained, and the other boy was getting very close to him as he spoke. Feeling something under the table, Sigurd made eye contact with Piper as their knees touched. What was going on here? Was this more than just idle reading? Sigurd abruptly rose to his feet, partially because he knew what he could do next and because the sudden close proximity to Piper unnerved him. This feeling was new, and something to be explored later. "I think I know what you're talking about. Excuse me a moment." With the long strides of a man on a mission, Sigurd walked away from the table and to the nearest library aid, asking her about where books on creatures were kept. It didn't take long for Sigurd to make a selection and return to the table. Taking a seat, he slid the book between himself and Piper. The Encyclopedia of Dark Creatures was a medium-sized black book with red stripes running along it vertically. Sigurd turned to the first page, which was reserved for a large, dark blue snake. The Basilisk. "I was thinking a werewolf fit your description the best, despite the lycanthrope being aware of what's inside them. But if you remember what your mystery creature looks like, we can flip through the pages."

 

[Aviator]

THE SPELLCRAFTER.

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Vasu

Saini

ㅎㅎ

MOOD

Simping Hardcore.

OUTFIT

Blending with Ilvermorny. Signet Ring.

LOCATION

Outside Dorms; Dining Hall.

MENTIONS

Darweshi

INTERACTS

Chitrita honeycoves Naomi Sanctuaryforall1 Theo WanderLust. Altair TobiornotTobi

NIGHT —
ZOLA JESUS.

scroll

'Cause everyone in the back room's

Spinning up
Don't remember what you're asking for
And everyone in the front room's
Tripping out.

EVE OF THE FIRST CHALLENGE.

Vasu felt as if he’d looked up to find a speeding car headed straight for him. A very pink and imperious car, with two boys decked out in the backseat. It was his first look at Chitrita Pawar in her Mahouokoro uniform, and Vasu’s shock quickly gave way to curiosity. A desire to do a full-circle inspection and admire the glossy paint job, the plush leather interior, and check under the hood. Her plaid skirt ended a few coy inches above her knees, and a bow that looked like it could be undone with one expert tug held the neck of her blouse closed. Adding to his hopes was the delight that suffused her voice when she called out to him, the bright smile that overtook her face. His enchanted coin had predicted a run-in with Chitrita today, but he’d expected to be met with the cold, dismissive beauty from last night in the music room, the marble statue chipped into perfection that didn’t spare him a glance. It crossed his mind that perhaps she was just putting on a show for her audience—that latching onto him was a necessary strategy to escape the company of losers—but the thought evaporated beneath the warmth of her caramel gaze. No girl had looked at him like that since Anzhelina in their first year, and Vasu found a strange hunger clawing his belly for such attention again.

He flushed with a peculiar heat, as if a spotlight on stage were suddenly trained on him. Emboldened by her familiarity, he cooed, “Hullo to you too, dilruba.” It was a common pet name in Hindi that could be used like darling, but it literally meant “heart-stealer.” He wanted to see how she reacted to a term of endearment that evaded the understanding of the foreigners, just in case it backfired on him. But instead of playing his game, Chitrita was playing her own. She turned to one of the boys flanking her, whom Vasu recognized from Care for Magical Creatures class but whose name he hadn’t gotten. Her dark eyes were fastened on this newcomer as she breathed some secret knowledge into his ear, and twin spikes of suspicion and jealousy shot through Vasu. Suspicion that she was bad-mouthing him, because it was obvious that he was the subject of the whisper. Jealousy that it wasn’t his hair that her breath was stirring in intimate proximity.

Chitrita quickly drew away, and as if it had never happened, she made introductions between the two boys vying for her attention, whether or not both of them were aware of it. But it wasn’t the other boy’s name that Vasu focused on. It was the several questions that rose up in him when Chitrita glossed over his presence here. Namely, that this Altair had been sent this morning from Mahoutokoro to help her. All of the competitors had arrived last night for the Opening Ceremony. What, had Altair missed the train from Grand Central because he’d left his clothes at the laundromat? And helping Chitrita was a very self-important way to view the relationship between two secondaries; the Jolly White Giant was Mahoutokoro’s champion. Such a fact was hard to miss when it was roughly sixteen feet tall.

“What do you mean, ‘help you’? Like, carry your books while you walk?” Vasu guessed, at a loss for a logical explanation. Had Aditi failed to disclose to him that Chitrita was an invalid of some kind? That did seem like something his grandmother would do. Vasu’s gaze transferred to Altair, scrutinizing this new variable that didn’t add up, yet he continued to speak about the other boy in the third person. “And why didn’t he get here with all of the other—”

Chitrita rapidly changed the subject, letting his questions dangle. Vasu narrowed his eyes on her. She clearly didn’t want to discuss the details publicly, but she was a fool if she thought he could be so easily distracted. He decided to respect her wishes and not press her for information. For now, at least, until they were in private. With a little tension in his posture that hadn’t been there a moment ago, he clasped his hands in front of him and reluctantly let the subject drop.

As if sensing the mood change, Chitrita’s other chaperone—whom Vasu belatedly realized was Theo, so fixated had he been on this feminine center of his universe—turned away from the group and slunk down the hall without a word. His movements looked stiff, almost fragile, and he was cradling one arm to his chest. Vasu wondered if it was part of the reason for his sullen silence and departure.

Chitrita was staring at him with a sickly-sweet insistence, her smile so wide that it looked like if it spread any further her face would crack. Vasu wondered if she was always this dialed up at social functions. It was behavior that he was used to from sycophants who would throw themselves at his family’s feet just for a chance to breathe the same air as Shiva’s descendants, yet it felt almost eerie coming from her.

Not wanting to commit a lapse in etiquette in front of his competitors, Vasu took a neat step to the side so that he could gesture at Naomi. His back had been to her this whole time, as if she was a toy that had been forgotten in favor of something with more buttons and lights and sounds. “Well, I consider her more of a rival than a friend, but this is Naomi De Vries of House Papillonlisse at Beauxbatons.” He indicated the girl in question with a sweeping gesture, yet he was still speaking to Chitrita. “Two years ago we faced each other in the International Quidditch Cup,” he continued self-importantly, failing to mention that Naomi’s team had won that competition.

Any word that Naomi might have tried to get in edgewise was drowned out by Chitrita’s fawning rambles. A goddess like Chitrita calling another girl—especially one dressed in a hospital gown at the moment—pretty felt like pity, and Vasu wondered if she was talking down to Naomi. He fought down a vicious smile as he observed their very one-sided exchange. Naomi was cute, but she was strange, and Vasu felt more put-together than her when he showed up to class hungover with his uniform rumpled and a throat scoured from a night of vomiting. She just couldn’t compete with the pureblood snake pit, as his father had once called Aditi’s provocatively impressive social circles.

To his surprise, Chitrita invited them to lunch. One of Vasu’s eyebrows inched up his forehead. Wasn’t she apprehensive of how a Muggleborn misfit might damage her image? Or was this supposed to be a set-up of some kind? Vasu imagined Chitrita with her feet kicked up on a pillow of peacock feathers like a Roman empress while she fed Naomi scraps under the table.

“We would love to join,” he said quickly, not giving Naomi any time to refuse. Of course, we was a substitute for I in this statement. “Thank you for the invitation. My next class isn’t until three, and I can’t think of a better way that I would rather utilize the time in between.”

As if she hadn’t heard him, Chitrita went on to assure them that it was perfectly fine if they had other priorities. Vasu couldn’t tell whether she was considerately giving them an excuse to decline or if she was somehow taunting him, dropping the old it’s okay, I’m just your worthless fiancée; what right do I have to infringe on your time? line. Not that it mattered, though. Chitrita would always come first in Vasu’s book. She was special, and she deserved a man who would treat her as such. He would assuage any insecurities she had to the contrary.

The matter settled, Chitrita spun and flounced away, presumably hurrying to catch up with Theo. Secretly, this development excited Vasu; he wouldn’t admit it, but Theo’s too-cool-for-school attitude was intoxicating. The Hogwarts champion was part of the crowd that Vasu wanted to associate himself with when his usual huddle of Koldovstoretz delinquents was unavailable to him. After all, he had completed a dare at Theo’s request last night. Now it was Theo’s turn, and Vasu always collected what he was owed. He could already tell that Theo would be one of his fiercest competitors amid the tournament, and any moment that he could spend in Theo’s presence to learn his tells, his insecurities, the chinks in his armor, would be a valuable asset in the arena.

It was pushing two when they arrived at the dining hall, and one of the House Elf attendants paused in the act of wiping a table to throw the party of five a glare. The hours of operation were posted on a pane of glass outside the cafeteria, and Vasu assumed the elf’s inhospitality had to do with the fact that they closed for lunch in thirteen minutes. Most of the food stations were picked through by the time of their late arrival, but he pounced greedily on a mostly intact vat of pesto-covered salmon, heaping a generous portion onto his plate.

The only other salvageable goods were a cucumber dish with some kind of fried topping sprinkled on it, cubes of gone-cold beef with caramelized onions in brown sauce, and crispy-looking chunks of potato. Vasu made a face at the potatoes. After his father’s death and the subsequent dwindling of his family’s finances, potatoes and lentils had made appearances at the dinner table more often than not, because they were cheap and could be bought in high quantities without the fear of going bad. If he never had a potato or lentil again in his life, he could die happily. He settled for the cucumbers, because unlike the beef, the dish lost nothing by being cold. Plus he didn’t want it getting back to Aditi that he was committing pataka, or sin by eating the sacred cow. Knowledge that he wasn’t sure he could trust Chitrita not to share.

From the meager offerings at the bakery stand, he took a partly crumbled cookie with a gooey, rich chocolatey center. It was the candy-cane sprinkles that sold him, and when he shamelessly bit into it ahead of the more nutritious parts of his meal, they provided a delightful crunch. Take that, Nyache, he thought spitefully. This mass-produced American shit is better than your feeble attempts at bribery. The group had seated themselves at a round table with seven chairs by the entrance. Most of the tables already had chairs neatly stacked atop them in preparation of closing time, and the elven waitstaff was shifting restlessly from foot to foot as they watched the last-minute diners with nothing left to do until they departed. A hesitant silence hung over their table; none of the virtual strangers seemed to know how or care to engage the others in conversation.

Vasu let his gaze travel to Theo, who seemed very intent on his meal. He was pointedly eating with only one hand. “How was class, Theo?” Vasu opened blandly. The other boy didn’t respond, and when the silence wore on him, Vasu continued, “From the way you’re babying that arm, I’d guess the dragon unleashed in Care of Magical Creatures today took a swing at you, but you weren’t there. I hope it doesn’t inhibit your performance in the first challenge.” Wearing a snide smile, he licked a dab of chocolate off his fingertip. Vasu picked up his fork and began to toy with the salmon, pulling it apart on his plate. “Whatever was so important that you missed your first class of the school year?”

♡coded by uxie♡