| Details for Sage Advice |
| Summary: | Fiona encounters Janette returning from Hogsmeade and asks the older girl a few questions; comes away with more advice than she expected. |
| Date: | 6 October 1938 |
| Location: | Entry Hall, Hogwarts |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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Lunch time on a Sunday would usually mean the entry hall is a bit busy with students and staff coming and going, but this is a Hogsmeade weekend so it is quieter. The majority of students left behind are first and second years and they have nearly all found their way to lunch already. Fiona has yet to do so. She is looking down at a piece of parchment, her expression thoughtful. Every now and then she looks up in a different direction and then back down again at the parchment.
The young girl comes back from the Hogsmeade. She is pacing straight to the direction, where you can find dungeons - her house. Likely, she hurries to change her clothes now. Perfect white gown sways near the ground, hidding tiny foot in wonderful bloody red shoes. The dress is very light and has some crocheted parts. It is gathered around the petite waist with the same red as roses blooms ribbon. Just to be safe from the fall's coolness, the young lady covers her shoulders with a surcoat with large cut-outs on both sides with no sleeves made of white rabbit fur. Her own frosty curls falls freely on her shoulders and blurs with the gown and surcoat. She walks very straight and haughtily, not giving any glances for others around. The expression in her features is just frozen. Just her lips, decorated with the bloody red lipstick, look alive.
Just as Janette arrives Fiona is looking up from her parchment. She debates briefly and then calls over to her. "Do you know good places to avoid people?" It is no likely the best question to ask a prefect but Hogwarts' tiniest student is hoping that a prefect out of uniform is going to be nicer and in any case her question is innocuous enough right?
Janette's gaze slowly finds the source of the question. Of course, even if this prefect is very small, she still watches at that youngin loftily. The sighs or some kind of irritation flashes in girl's grey eyes, when icy voice snaps at that little thing: "In your room. Under the blanket." Janette runs with her pale fingers through her curls, tossing some of them back.
Fiona grins up at Janette. "That isn't going to work. Nobody has their own room here." She rolls up her parchment with her small hands and tucks it away inside a pocket of her well-worn dungarees. "Did the house elves get all the owl excrement off your robes?" She remembers her from the owlery, but guesses Janette doesn't remember her. "Was it exciting to have boys fight over you? There are some girls, third years, who were talking about how they wanted these two boys fight over them. Sounds stupid to me. Fight for yourself."
Janette frowns slightly, but very carefully, as she would be afraid to let any emotion out, because it might ruin her marble structure. "My robes are just perfect now, and that is the most important. Each lady must look perfect, though, it is impossible with these silly uniforms. If I could walk around in my usual clothes, which I wear on summer… All the boys in Hogwarts would fight over me." She sounds very self-confident. Janette gently and thoughtfully touches her bottom lip with perfectly white teeth, though, being afraid to ruin the make-up. "You know… Tell these third years girls, that they should find another boys to fight over them. These two are not worth of dreaming. Plus…" Janette shrugs now "I guess these boys were fighting just because it was fun for them. That is all. And that is stupid. All the boys are silly in these years. Just a few can be real gentlemen." Now Janette leans closer near the girl to whisper. Playful grin flashes on the bloody lips. "Just a note, but boys mature much more slowly. If the boy is in his seventeen summer, be sure he is like twelve years old child, indeed. Not worth time of the lady," and girl leans back, studying the little one for awhile, adding: "But not all of them. There are exceptions of course, but these exceptions, would never fight. They would find other ways to deal with problems."
Not wanting to wear a school uniform is something Fiona can understand. "You do have very nice clothing," she says sweetly to Janette. "It looks like you cannot do much in it though. How can you have fun? You can't go down to the lake to skip stones because the hems would get muddy or your shoes would. And you cannot climb trees because your things would be torn." She slips her hands into her pockets, her posture nonchalant as she speaks with the older girl. "You remind me of these porcelain dolls Mother gives me. I cannot play with them because they might break; they're too fragile so they just sit on a shelf in a case. But your eyes aren't as creepy. Your eyes are different though." A smile reveals a flash of small white teeth, "Different is good." Fiona squints one vibrant blue eye shut. "I don't think those third years wanted the two boys from the owlery to fight over them but I will tell them what you said in case I am wrong." When the whispered advice is offered Fiona listens intently as she always does to advice when given. You never know when that advice might prove useful. "My best friend is a boy," she states as Janette leans back up to her full height. "But I don't think he would fight over a girl. Girls probably would fight over him. Not me though because we are best mates."
Janette grins, maybe a bit mockingly "When you will finally grow up, you will find all the answers to the questions… or… statements you just said for me." When girl speak about the dolls, Janette grins quite loudly: "Thank you very much. It is a real compliment for the lady to be compared with the work of art. Porcelain work. If I am similar for you to these dolls, then I know I am walking the right path." Grey eyes glints a bit, when the girl continues the speach about boys. "Keep that friend of yours beside, then. Save him from women. Women fighting over men can be even more horrible," girl frowns slightly thoughtfully and cants her head, palming the fur of rabbit of her coat "Women are way more cruel than men. They can change your friend and you may lost him, if you won't save him. Believe me… But you have enough time before you will understand what I just said for you!" giggles the girl.
If Janette is mocking her Fiona shows no recognition of it, or maybe she just is as she seems — a sweet little girl asking for guidance from an older girl because she doesn't have any sisters. "I am pleased you feel confident about the path you are walk — er — carefully treading in delicate shoes." Her gaze drops down to the red shoes on Janette's feet only to lift again to the pale expanse of features that make up the older girl's face. "I had some friends back home that were girls, cousins and the like, not quite so many here. I will keep an eye on Gel, warn him off those types of girls. He's handsome, not that I'd tell him because it'd go to his head, but I've seen girls eyeing him up."
Janette stands quite proudly in front of Fiona. For some reason feeling someone bigger, someone special, someone so wise and older, than that little bird somewhere under her feet. And this feeling is written on her posture. When girl finishes her speech, Janette just pats Fiona's shoulder. Though, very carefully, barely touching the girl, as she would be afraid to get dirty or something. "He will be in good hands, if you will take care of him, I am sure, I guess…"
The first year isn't dirty, she just isn't adverse to being dirty — unless excrement is involved, then she is very adverse to being dirty. "I'm Fiona, by the way. Fiona Donnelly." Of those pureblood Irish Donnellys. Fiona even has a cute older brother in Gryffindor; he's a sixth year named Gilroy and a probably less cute one in her own house that is in the third year. "I'd best be going. I am having lunch with his sister. She's a first year like me." She offers a smile to Janette. "Thanks again for the advice." Just there, where she says her name her soft Irish lilt becomes more pronounced, but only briefly.
Janette just nods. Does not say anything. Just nods and glides away to her destination.