| Details for Hogsmeade Awkwardness |
| Summary: | Julian bumps into Evie at The Three Broomsticks. After a deluge of nerdiness, things get awkward for a moment… |
| Date: | 1937-11-17 - Saturday Afternoon |
| Location: | Three Broomsticks |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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It's fairly early on in the day, but it's a Saturday so there's no classes anyhow. Many students may be caught up in Quidditch practice, studying, or trying to prove their worth to the Hogwarts Champion. Eibhlin is doing none of these things. She's settled at a table in the Broomsticks, butterbeer close at hand, and a simple notebook on the table before her that she writes in from time to time.
Likewise. The Ravenclaw Team had an off weekend from practice - even though Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw was coming up. Julian had decided to take advantage of the fact it was a Hogsmeade weekend and had vacated the castle. The Three Broomsticks is always a popular hangout… but maybe it won't be so bad. As he makes his way into the friendly pub, he casts his eyes around, skimming… Until he spots a face he somewhat recognizes. Eibhlin gets a smile and a wave as he begins to cut through the slew of other students… moving toward the Prefect's table. "Evie!" He calls her last name lightly, smiling still. "Hey. Mind if I join you?"
Eibhlin looks up from her notebook and it's clear she's sucking on a lollipop. Nearby is a small bag from the candy shop. The redhead lifts a hand to remove the sucker from her mouth. "Hey Edwards," she greets her housemate. "Sure." She extends a leg and nudges out one of the nearby chairs.
"Looks like someone managed to make a stop at the sweets shop," Jules observes lightly, chuckling a little bit and shaking his head. Unhefting a light bag from his shoulders, he places it on the floor next to his chair, sliding into it after pulling it out… He then notes the notepad. "Working on something for class?" he asks her idly, tilting his head a little bit.
"I had some cravings," Eibhlin admits in her light Irish brogue. She leans back a bit, putting the lollipop back in her mouth to suck on. She shakes her head at the question, "Just writing," she says around the candy.
Nodding a little, Julian stretches his arms and moves to take out something from his bag. It's a roll of parchment, and as he does, he unfurls it, looking it over for a moment. "I'm kind of glad I ran into you," he comments lightly. "I was wanting you to look over an extra-credit report I'm doing for Professor Flint," he explains to her lightly, "on some recent translations I did."
"Oh yeah?" Eibhlin sits up a bit, taking out the lollipop again. She sets aside her notebook, leaning forward somewhat so she can try taking a look. "Which translations were those again?"
"The ones for a couple of weeks ago," Julian remarks idly, "that kind of went on and on… I think it was one of the Tales of Beedle the Bard," he explains lightly. "My memory's a little fuzzy, but I can't remember right off the bat. Anyway, he wanted me to do a little more research on the historical aspect of the translation," he explains lightly, shaking his head some and rubbing his eyes. "I think Flint's worried that if my History grades suffer, my Runes translations will, too," he adds unhelpfully. "Nevermind I've done better year by year in the class."
And Eibhlin does happen to be the closest to a linguistics expert one might find in the fifth year. The teen reaches out a hand for the parchment as she listens. "All Professors think that. Oh you're struggling in Care of Magical Creatures? This is sure to affect your Astronomy work!" She smirks a little.
"That's a groaner of a joke, Evie, and you know it," Jules replies, rolling his eyes a little bit. And then, it's like a lightbulb clicks on in his head, "ugh, I'm an idiot. It was something to do with the Fountain of Fair Fortune!" He nods. "Right… the Fountain Allegory. It was an alchemical allegory writen back around the same time as the stories were published in the fifteenth century," Jules explains lightly, tapping at the parchment with his finger for a moment, before handing it over toward Eibhlin. "I like to think my research was pretty thorough," he adds lightly, shrugging, "but even we can't be perfect researchers."
"They like to throw us for a loop on purpose," Eibhlin murmurs, taking the parchment as she begins to look it over. "I suppose since runes are often used in alchemy, that was his concern." She ponders as she continues along, skimming over what he's written. "You might want to check your tenses here," she says, turning the parchment around to point it out to him. "I think the translation might be a bit off."
Already outting with a quill, Jules lightly leans forward when Eib offers lightly, squinting for a moment as he re-reads the bit, making a face… before going to town on scribbling out the line and re-writing it, carefully. Re-re-reading it, he nods a little bit. "That helps," he comments lightly, sighing some and just shaking his head. "I just hope Old Man Flint takes it," he comments softly, "and is feeling generous." Placing his quill aside, he rolls his neck a little, considering the paper. "I've worked on this for almost a week," he adds lightly, "so I'm going to just kind of toss it out and pray." Taking the paper back, he lightly rolls the parchment up and rolls his neck a little, tucking it away and sighing some, resting against the table. "So, are you ever going to stop by the Art Club's meetings?" He offers her a light grin. "You can't completely play coy. I'm sure someone else besides me's tried to invite you."
"Can never tell with Flint," Eibhlin agrees lightly, tone kept gentle. She chomps into the sucker, breaking it to pieces to finish it off with some steady crunching. It's washed down with the thick butterbeer. She takes a moment before speaking again, "Don't want to work on it too long or you'll begin second-guessing everything. I'd say it's good enough." She looks a bit awkward as he asks, looking down to her notebook. "I don't draw," she says finally, "I just write…"
Tilting his head a little bit, Jules sighs some, shaking his head. "You're right," he comments lightly, rolling the parchment up completely and gently tucking it into his bag. As one of the baristas make their round… he quietly orders a Butterbeer himself, and begins to sip at it a little bit after recieving it. As she rebukes his invite to a club meeting, Jules crinkles his nose slightly. "Wordsmithing's an art," he remarks lightly, "and I'm sure that your stuff's interesting enough to shre. If that's your thing," he remarks lightly, holding up a hand. "If it's not… I suppose I can understand. I generally don't share my music until I'm absolutely, positively sure it's good to go." He then pauses, considering her. "You really should come one day, though. I think you'd like it."
"Do they accept writers?" Eibhlin seems uncertain still, turning her mug in her hands slowly. She takes another sip. "When… I hear Art Club," her brogue gets a bit thicker in her awkwardness, "I think of drawings and paintings. Not written stories."
"If it makes you feel better," Jules begins gently, "I can talk to Professor Beery before you come. That way there won't be any question about it," he explains to her, smiling a little still. He hears her voice changing… and he looks down for a second. "I mean, it's only if you really want to. I don't wanna… y'know, impose. I just figured…" He stops for a second, clearing his throat. "I just thought you may enjoy hanging out with your artistic peers." He stops, then, at that point, looking back toward her.
"Ach, no." Eibhlin looks up then, features straining into a bit of a smile. "It's quite alright, thank you. I'll stop by sometime… Some of the Professors have been trying to get me to join clubs anyway." Which may be why some club members have been encouraged to try luring her in.
As he notices that smile, Jules rubs his nose a ittle bit, looking to the side for a moment and chuckling. "Fair enough," he remarks gently, and he sips at his butterbeer a little. Well, that out of the way… he's done his duty to the Art Club. School work is taken care of. All that's left is to be sociable! As he relaxes some, he breathes in, tilting his head… "How're y'coming on some of your work?" he asks her lightly. Blargh. Yeah, Jules. Steer it back toward schoolwork. That's the Ravenclaw Way.
Schoolwork, writing, research. It's much of what Eibhlin does. She doesn't let it consume her life… she consumes it. The girl would take on more than the recommended number of electives were she allowed. "Fair enough," she admits with a bit of a smile. "Though some of the tricker aspects of Arithmancy has been tripping me up. I was always good with numbers before I came to Hogwarts, but it's… not just maths, so it throws me for a loop sometimes."
"I finished one of my number charts last night, if you'd like to get a hint or two. Once we get back to the Common Room… I don't have it with me," Jules replies gently, taking another sip of his Butterbeer and sighing a little. "I was, too. So don't feel bad," he tells her, smiling still as he turns the mug back and forth in his hand. He tries to offer her a small little smile, and he remarks lightly, "how's your mum?" He would ask at least once a month…
"If you don't mind," Eibhlin says, brightening somewhat. "That'd be grand." She finishes her butterbeer and sets it aside. "Ah… She's well enough, I suppose." There's a furrowing of brows. "With the farm, she doesn't get much opportunity to send messages. She hates using owls… which is a blessing, I suppose. I'd /hate/ for her to discover Howlers." She settles back into her seat. "Have you begun considering next year yet? I… think I'd like to take Alchemy if they're going to offer it to us. And the apparition lessons, of course, but I may have to apply for a Turner. I'd hate to drop Arithmancy and Runes."
There's a bit of a chuckle at the mention of Howlers. "That's fair. I'm glad to hear it," Jules replies softly at the talking of family… and he tilts his head, shrugging some. "I'm waiting until Professor Mopsus sits down with me next half," Jules remarks softly, "but my mum's been writing me and encouraging me to start considering a Ministry job. She's almost -sure- I'll have the OWLs for the Magical Law Enforcement section. Alchemy is going to be… tricky," he tells her softly, "and I'd hate to see you drop out of Ancient Runes. You're one of the better ones in our year, I think." He smiles toward her, looking down and to the side. "I'm honestly kind of on the fence on what I want to do, otherwise." Which may be odd, with him being a Ravenclaw.
"My mother hopes I'll come home and marry a nice lad from the village," Eibhlin admits with a roll of her eyes. "I'm not sure what I want to do either. I've considered a summer internship with the Prophet, but I don't think I want to write for them… I love articles and research, but…" She gives a shrug. The eternal struggle of a teenager: what to DO. "Perhaps I could write biographies and novels instead? That would let me live with my mum on the farm." She does smile a bit, "I'll be doing my best not to drop Runes. Arithmancy, maybe, but I'd hate to give up."
"I may give up Arithmancy, too." Jules snorts lightly, shaking his head. "It's interesting, and neat… but in the long run, I don't see it really -helping- whatever I do in the long run." He pauses, then, considering what she mentioned her mom wants her to do, and he snorts a little bit, a warm little smile coming to his face. "That sounds kind of typical." He pauses, though, shrugging. "The Prophet can be a bit of a rag sometimes," he tells her, and he tilts his head… "I don't see you being -told- what you -have- to write, either. Good or bad, you're gonna write what you want and what you think." Stretching his arms a little, he yawns… and sips at the last of his butterbeer, flagging down for a refill once the barista passes by. At that, he turns his attention back to her, tilting his head. "D'you really want to move back with your mum once you're done here?" He asks her this curiously…
"Ach, I don't know," Eibhlin admits, looking to her empty butterbeer. She's placed an order for more herself. "I love my ma and I know she needs my help on the farm, but Derry is so… very dull. I don't think a single other Wizarding family lives in the whole area." She's quiet a moment, brow furrowing. "I…. might do an Internship at the Prophet this summer and see how I feel. Usually I just go home."
"London's a big place," Jules remarks softly. "I live in London," he adds gently. Where was he going with that? He hasn't got a clue. Making a small huff into his Butterbeer mug, he takes a sip, looking down into it and hrming for a moment… "I may do an internship somewhere. I just dunno where yet," he adds lightly, "but maybe, since you'll be in London as well, we may be able to hang out or something when we're not busy." That was odd coming out of his mouth, and he scratches his nose a little afterward. What?
"It's a long ways off," Eibhlin says, looking decidedly uncomfortable herself. She's thankful for the new mug of butterbeer, wrapping hands about it. "I'm… not even sure I'll go that route. My mother couldn't leave the farm for a summer and we haven't got family in London."
"You could probably talk your mum into letting you go by Floo," Jules remarks gently, sipping at his own mug. "You just have to get the Department of Magical Transportation to approve your fireplace for it. That way, it's just as easy as going back and forth in a matter of seconds, really." He continues to sip on his butterbeer, looking down a moment. "Sorry, Evie." He stirs his cup around a little. Why's he apologizing?
"I've been attempting to convince her of that already," Eibhlin admits with a brief expression, perhaps concerned. Perhaps fearing facing the discussion once again. "Perhaps… I could send a letter to the Ministry and inquire if a Liaison could be sent to talk it over with her." Her brow furrows a moment at the apology. "What? You've… you've done nothing wrong."
"I'll write my mum, too… maybe she can help convince her." Jules is suddenly scratching at his head a little. Oh, that's right… he did apologize. But why? He opens his mouth for a second, and then closes it. He opens it again, as if meaning to say something. "—I dunno," he finally says on the third opening-closing motion, beginning to laugh a little bit and shake his head. "Not the faintest idea why I said that." And with that, he absolutely -kills- his Butterbeer.
"My mum is… oddly touchy about the subject." Perhaps because of everything it revealed about Eibhlin's father, not that any of it has ever been revealed to her. "But mayhap hearing it from another…" She shrugs, lapsing into a silence in which she stares somewhat at the other Ravenclaw. "I… I see.."
"We'll see. M'mum may not be of any help at all, really… But eh." His eyes averted, Julian clear his throat a little bit, before glancing back up toward her… and then ordering another Butterbeer… but then cancelling the order. "D'you want to go walking, Evie? It's…" He glances around a little. Since his arrival, the pub has gotten more and more packed… "… It's getting more and more crowded in here. And… I wouldn't mind th' company." Keep digging your hole, Jules.
And indeed it has started to get crowded. Eibhlin had not even noticed, though that is not out of the norm for the redhead. She frowns a bit as her attention is brought to how streams of students are filling the inn for their dose of butterbeer. "A walk would be nice," she admits finally, starting to shove her things into her satchel.
Swinging his own satchel onto his shoulder, Jules takes out a small pouch and leaves a sickle or two on the table - to cover his own tab and Eibhlin's, and a small tip - and he stands up. With that, he lightly motions for her to follow after him, and he tries to cut a path through the crowd… wide enough for Eibhlin to be able to follow him, but also to give her a little space, as they make their way toward the exit.
By the way Eibhlin tucks her arms in against her sides, she's used to trying to weave through crowds without overmuch physical contact. She does bear a slightly surprised expression at his paying for her as well as himself and once they're clear of the crowd, she offers: "Thanks. I… I can buy next time."
As they clear the crowd and get outside, it's like a breath of fresh air to Jules. Respond to her lightly, he shrugs. "It's not a big deal," Jules replies lightly. "I had a little extra money, so why not be a little generous to someone?" He gives her a little smile, then, and proceeds down the street. For a community like Hogsmeade, it's a Godsend that the school takes weekends here… the town's absolutely abuzz with others. Tugging lightly at his cloak slightly, Jules proceeds along the street with her. "But… yeah. I figured it was time to get out of there."
A blessing for the proprieters, perhaps, but most that simply live in Hogsmeade opt to remain in their homes or spend weekends elsewhere. Such as London. Not everyone likes hordes of teenagers about. There's oft drama at every turn! Eibhlin shifts her satchel on her shoulder. "It gets awful rowdy. Especially when the Quidditch rivalries start up…"
"Don't get me started," Jules would groan lightly, shaking his head a little bit. "I'm actually a little worried about our first game against Hufflepuff," he adds gently, shaking his head. "I dunno if we're ready or not. It's going to be a hard-fought game, either way." As they walk along, though, and the crowd gets a little thinner, he begins to smile. Quietness. "Do you plan on going?" he asks her lightly. "I mean, I don't ever recall seeing you much at the games."
"Quidditch really isn't my thing," Eibhlin admits softly, looking a bit embarassed. It's likely well-known that she only barely passed the flying courses of their first year and has had little to do with a broom since. "I… I can try to attend some games this year. I ought to, as Prefect."
"I was surprised I made Beater," Jules replies softly, "otherwise I wouldn't have ever really… y'know. Worried so much about it." Opening up the front of his road and unfastening his cloak, he lets his hands go into the pockets of his trousers, and he continues along quietly, smiling at her apprehension. "I'd say if you want to, you could. I… probably chose a bad year to go out, myself. My grades are going to drop. I can already feel it." Ah, that inner Ravenclaw is speaking again…
"I'm sure if others can manage, you can," Eibhlin says with a bit of a smile. "Just don't pick up any other electives and you ought to have time still." The teen is dressed simply herself; a blouse and a skirt in sedate tones. She's wearing a heavy woolen coat instead of a cloak. "I'll try to come out and watch the game. I promise."
There's a little bit of a smile on Julian's face as she makes that little promise, and he quirks his eyebrow a little. "If you think you can, that'd be nice. We'll need all the encouragement we can get." He continues to smile a little bit, glancing toward her idly. "Say, Eibhlin…" He seems to want to ask her something… but he seems to stop short of it. He glances toward her as they wander down the path… "Next Hogsmeade weekend, you wanna come down together? We could go check out some of the other places around the village," he tells her lightly. "We never have gotten to hang out together a lot… which, I know you aren't really the big type to hang out. But…" He shrugs his shoulders. "I figured I'd ask."
"I'm sure you'll do well… Hopefully none of our players get pulled away by the Tournament…" Eibhlin tries to recall who may be part of that entourage and on the team. Julian's inquiry, however, brings her pause and her steps slow. She may even come to a halt, requiring him to do much the same. The teen seems about to reject it outright, but finally offers at length: "I… I suppose we could."
"Not a date." Jules decides to make that clear as their footsteps halt, and he seems to pale for a split moment before she answers… and when she does, his color floods back, slightly red. "Not a date… just… a friendly outting between two friends who've been such since their first year." He nods, firmly, at her response. "That's that, then!" And this is how Ravenclaws deal with anything that's potentially like romance. Yes. Slowly, he begins to walk again, pondering her note on the Tournament. "I thought about tryin' to see if they'll take me," he comments, "but… eh." He shrugs a little. "I don't know."
"That's… kind of what I figure, too. But him taking someone like Nott would be a -bad- representation of our school," Jules responds gently, sighing and shaking his head a little. He keeps his hands tucked into his pockets as he continues along, slowly, thinking about it. "I don't know how much good I'd be," he adds off-handedly. "I mean, my Charms work and Transfiguration is pretty decent," he adds, "but I don't know." He just shakes his head… and the Tournament is going to be the dominant topic as they continue along the trail back toward the Castle…