DEAN OF STUDENTS
history professor
head of hufflepuff
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Post by Illyana Sophia Ambrosia on Oct 1, 2012 16:28:08 GMT -6
 The days were becoming shorter, a clear and obvious sign of the season they were in. Autumn. It was Illyana’s favourite season. Although she loved the warm kiss of the sun upon her naked skin, there had always been something special about autumn. It was hard to resist its cool winds and playful colours, or the crisp morning air as you breathed it in and tasted it. There was just something about this time of year that really suited Illyana’s state of mind. The ruthlessness and balance of it all. And yet, nature and her seasonal changes were not the only things happening this time of year. Another year had started, and what changes! Illyana was so lucky to have been elected Dean of Students. It was a job that she had had her eyes on for some time now and she had been thrilled to be appointed that. She took the responsibility with great care and welcomed the idea of becoming closer with her students. She was a very caring person indeed.
The winds were picking up as Illyana walked through the gardens. They sky was overcast but not a single drop of rain had fallen all day. Illyana sat down on one of the white marble benches. It felt cold, despite her being dressed in a long tweed overcoat. She whipped out her wand and cast a spell. It would keep the bench warm for a small period of time, long enough for Illyana to enjoy a quiet moment with her book. It was an old book, or a book she hadn’t read in a long time. She opened the first page and stopped abruptly. Her deep, blue eyes rested intently on the first page, shocked at what she had discovered. There, between the cover and the first page was a picture of Garret and her. She closed the book shut abruptly, unable to look at the picture for much longer. Her blue eyes had turned hard and cold as she stared off into distance. It had been some time since she had last offered him any significant thought, and now she was assaulted with thoughts and opinions, and feelings.
The woman let her hands rest on top of the book, which was resting in her lap. Her dark brown hair danced violently with the wind and yet she sat perfectly still. For a moment or two nothing happened and all that could be heard was the sound of the wind in her ears. Then, suddenly, she heard a noise.
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DEPUTY HEADMASTER
potions professor
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Post by Grey Alford Porter on Oct 2, 2012 7:22:29 GMT -6
Being out on the grounds—well being outside even—was not something that many of the students really expected of the Potions Professor. Grey wasn’t certain why his students seemed to be under the false assumption that he never left the dungeons, or the castle for that matter, but he had seen some surprise looks. It was a little amusing in some respects, but over all quite foolish. It was impractical to spend all his time either down in his classrooms or locked away in his office. He had duties to the castle that brought him above ground and heaven forbid out of the castle. The man had been in charge of hiring staff members—and dealing with their complaints and problems—for the past three years, among his other duties at Deputy Headmaster.
Yet, Grey would concede that he probably wasn’t all that much of an outdoors person. He liked the outdoors but it seemed he was equally comfortable inside as well. But being outside wasn’t foreign to the dark colored professor. He had to gain ingredients for his potions, and most of those were outside the castle. He imported some from other herbologists, but a good portion of ingredients for his class were grown inside the school’s green houses.
Grey was returning from a short conversation with the Herbology Professor—his conversations with her were never very long given the woman did not seem to like him much, or so Grey thought, not realizing it was more that the woman was intimidate by him—on the latest batch of standard ingredients she had growing in her green houses when he decided to cut through the gardens. The gardens provided a short cut of sorts to the side entrance he was seeking into the school. It was a side door that led down to the dungeons. Not many people, aside from the staff and Slytherin students, seemed wholly aware of its existence. As a particularly strong breeze blew past, Grey drew his long coat closer to his form. He enjoyed this type of weather. The late autumn chill that one found in October to November time frame. Summer had lasted all together too long in his opinion. He did not much care for the hot months, especially when their heat trespassed into the autumn months. The man preferred the cold to the warmth.
Slipping through a grouping of bushes, Grey was waylaid when a branch decided to play delinquent and grabbed onto the lining of his coat. He tugged on the branch for a moment only to end up snapping the offending limb off and freeing its spiny clutches from the smooth interior of his coat. When Grey looked up next it was to notice he had stumbled upon an audience.
“Pardon me,” he stated, stepping fully away from the troublesome bush. |
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DEAN OF STUDENTS
history professor
head of hufflepuff
metamorphagus
33 years old
Mixed-Blood
Single
Lee
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Post by Illyana Sophia Ambrosia on Oct 4, 2012 3:27:29 GMT -6
Illyana jumped at the sight of the man and blinked for a few times to collect herself. There was a certain softness about the woman that made her surprised expression somewhat adorable. Illyana had never been a very hard person, in that sense that she was difficult to deal with or loud with her opinions. Illyana was more than able to be talkative, in fact she could keep her mouth running for hours at an end –it was probably why she enjoyed Catherine’s company so, the two of them could get awfully silly sometimes- but when she was quiet and still with thoughts drifting to places that only she knew, she remained quiet was very easily disturbed indeed.
Illyana’s hand had flown up to her chest as she had been startled and she moved it to tuck a strain on brown curls behind her ear to get a better view. The wind was thoroughly messing up her hair. “Oh,” she breathed, “you really startled me,” she said with a smile, relaxed once more. Seeing at it was only Grey she did not feel like there was any harm. Grey was a few years older than she was; yet they had now worked together for quite some time now. Illyana was under the impression that when she was first started working at Hogwarts Grey had been rather new in the job as well. For some reason this was oddly comforting. Supposedly, it was always comforting knowing that someone other than yourself was just as new in something that she was. Illyana felt like she was on good terms with the man, although she did not claim to know him very well. Illyana wasn’t quite sure why that was though. Surely, after working together for over 4 years, they should know each other a little, if only a little.
A slightly playful smile dashed on Illyan’s rosy lips as she glanced at the deranged bush behind Grey. “I hope they’re not giving you too much grief,” she commented, nodding towards the bush. There was something a little foreign about the way she was. Although her English masked her origins well, Illyana had never been born in England. She was very much a Greek woman, and Greek women had their own way of doing, and seeing things.
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DEPUTY HEADMASTER
potions professor
head of slytherin
36 years old
Mixed-Blood
Single
Cha
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Post by Grey Alford Porter on Oct 7, 2012 1:20:13 GMT -6
“It was not my intention,” Grey uttered in even tones. The man could almost kick himself for the iteration, given he was pretty sure that Illyana knew that he had not meant to startle her, that he probably had not even known that she was there. However, the man was used to making short replies to most statements. Granted, this probably was where his cold attitude seemed to stem from as Gray usually tried not to say unnecessary words. The man tried to say what he wanted to say as precise and clipped as possible. It wasn’t entirely clear where he had picked up the habit from, unless it merely stemmed from his desire to avoid the impractical, but who knows. It did not occur to him to apologize, as technically he had not done anything wrong in the situation.
At the woman’s next utterance, Grey glanced back at the offending bushes, almost as if seeking some sort of answer from the greenery—which was rather silly if one thought about it, given the bushes themselves were rather plain with no magical quality about them, yet look at them he did. It seemed one of the things people did, when something was referenced by one, the other looked to it, even if they had already seen it. Was it politeness to the other party? Grey wasn’t certain in that aspect. Either way, he had found his head and eyes turning slightly to the brush without really realizing it until he had trained his dark gaze back upon Illyana.
Then he did something that rather unlike himself. The man shrugged his shoulders. He was a bit of a contradiction at times. Moving and acting so cool and composed, in control of everything, and then he would do an action so casual that it was jarring to the formalness he had just been acting in. “What can I say, I guess I’m irresistible to them,” he disclosed to her with a small quirk of his upper lip. Gray did have a sense of humor, though it seemed not many people were privy to it and it could be rather dry at times. He certainly wasn’t the buffoon type of comedy. |
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DEAN OF STUDENTS
history professor
head of hufflepuff
metamorphagus
33 years old
Mixed-Blood
Single
Lee
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Post by Illyana Sophia Ambrosia on Oct 14, 2012 7:17:35 GMT -6
Despite what most people thought, Illyana had never considered Grey to be particularly cold. On the other hand, she could understand why others might disagree with her. It was true that his short replies and his uncannily pragmatic way of responding to things might come off a little reclusive to most people, however it didn’t seem like Illyana had experienced it. Apparently she knew a different kind of Grey than the rest of the faculty did, whether she was aware of it or not. Regardless, Illyana didn’t mind Grey’s company. In many ways she felt completely opposite of him. His brisk and seemingly stoic attitude was quite in contrast to Illyana’s cheerful and including life motto. It didn’t bother her that they were so different in fact she cherished it. For too long she had followed those that she thought she ought to follow, and she had sought the friendship of those that shared her interest. However, Illyana had grown tired of familiarities, and lately she had found herself drawn towards her opposites.
Illyana smiled a laughed a small laugh at his comment. She wasn’t aware of the fact that he rarely cracked jokes or that he was finding his observation and actions unnecessary. Although the human mind and human interactions were often unnecessary and thoughtless, Illyana saw no reason to judge them. Of course, she had a mind of her own, and if she had been confronted with this very issue she probably would’ve agreed on the futility of it, but she was just a normal person who didn’t question human actions to the same level as Grey did. Regardless, Illyana often just went with the flow. It might be a weakness in her character traits, but sometimes, sitting quietly and just letting your mind go blank was actually rather nice.
“Well, don’t go breaking hearts,” she commented. It didn’t even hit her that it might seem a little odd that they were talking about plants as people. They didn’t feel like they did, or, did they? Illyana wasn’t quite sure but she thought she remembered something about Catherine saying that they did.
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DEPUTY HEADMASTER
potions professor
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36 years old
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Cha
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Post by Grey Alford Porter on Oct 19, 2012 9:39:55 GMT -6
“I leave that for those more experience than myself,” Grey rejoined with only a hint of the humor prior. The man really did not have much experience when it came to the idea of breaking hearts. He tried his best not to get so far involved with anyone. He had seen what such emotions had done to his mother. Although rationally Grey knew that hers was just one case of many, and one that she had fallen into willingly. However, Grey could not simply forget. He had met the man who fathered him only once and the meeting had left him scarred both physically and emotionally. To Grey to seemed so much that people were fickle, always after whatever they wanted without much thought to the people they threw away. Grey saw so much of it in many of his students, especially those coming from such traditional families. The Potions Master tried to remain objective towards his students and not hold their birth and social status against them, but some sorely tried his patience some days.
For a few seconds Grey stood there feeling somewhat awkward. Holding conversations were not his strong point, and it felt to him that this one with Illyana was drawing to a close. Perhaps this was one reason why Grey’s responsibilities dealt mainly with his fellow faculty members instead of with students as was the woman’s before him. He did believe he could keep patience with having to deal with any problems the students brought his way. He had enough of that with just his Slytherins. However, many in that house were the type to suffer through things on their own rather than seek the aide of others. Grey did not think it an actual characteristic of the house, but rather one that seemed to follow those sly and cunning, traits not all together inviting of close relationships.
“Pardon my intrusion,” Grey then vocalized, believing it was probably best to start for an exit. |
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DEAN OF STUDENTS
history professor
head of hufflepuff
metamorphagus
33 years old
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Single
Lee
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Post by Illyana Sophia Ambrosia on Nov 3, 2012 18:23:18 GMT -6
Catherine often treated plants better than people, which Illyana found a little amusing. But then again, some people really were lower than plants; she could name a few from her own personal experience. Like Garret. She had momentarily forgotten about the picture lying face-up in her book. It was visible to any eye. In the picture there were two people embracing each other, laughing, smiling at each other. It was bittersweet to look at it, mostly bitter. The last time she had seen Garret had not been a good one. They had left on a bitter note. After all, the last time she had seen Garret he had left a deep purple bruise on her face.
Illyana‘s smile faltered a little. She was feeling terribly lonely. All this time working at Hogwarts and the thought of getting close to any other man had terrified her, and so she had abandoned that idea. Looking at this little piece of her past she suddenly felt like it had all gone to waste. Love. Romance. Where was it all?
Looking up at Grey as he went to depart she blurted out: “No wait!” She had been caught in a moment of desperation and loneliness, and just for a little while she would like some company to her solitude. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind the company, for a moment,” she said softly, tucking a loose strand of her behind her ear. She was trying to save a potential awkward moment, or maybe it already was awkward. Although she had never found Grey to be hostile or cold in any way, she had never taken him for a people’s person. If he declined her request she wouldn’t be too surprised.
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DEPUTY HEADMASTER
potions professor
head of slytherin
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Single
Cha
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Post by Grey Alford Porter on Nov 3, 2012 23:47:43 GMT -6
A retreat was probably the best option in the moment. The conversation had dwindled down to a standstill, or so it had on Grey’s part. The man did not seem to have much trouble when it came to closing conversations. Inviting detailed and flowing responses was not something that Grey consciously tried to do—well, rather it would be something he would have to think about. When responding Grey did not answer in detailed responses as he does not put forth more than the required answer. Grey did not volunteer anymore than he needed to in an answer. Such as in a simple how was your day the man was inclined to answer with a one word answer. No more. No less. The person he was speaking to did not need to know the particulars of his day, and most of the time, in his opinion, they did not particularly care. It was strange how so much conversation was wasted in just building up courtesy and pleasantries.
So when the woman spoke in response to his leaving with an abrupt word, Grey faltered in his step. That had been a bit unexpected. Grey did not miss the note of desperation in the other Professor’s tone as she implored him to remain. For a fraction of a second or so, the man deliberated on his next action. Staying really had no appeal for him. He had work to finish down in the dungeons, yet this was work as well in a sense. As Deputy it was his duty to help with any faculty member and their problems if brought to his attention—not that Illyana would probably be overjoyed to learn that this was part of this thoughts when she called him to remain. And it was simply that, a part of his thoughts. If one were to be honest, Grey also thought of the woman as probably the closest thing he had to a friend in the school. He didn’t invite friendships, but given the two’s administrative positions, they had come into contact more often that some things just tend to form. This was the other part of the man’s reasoning in his decision—although inwardly he’d be loathed to admit it given his penance for keeping people at a distance.
So instead of making the retreated he had planned to make, Grey cautiously set himself down on the bench close to the woman. “Something’s the matter,” he observed, never the one to take the long route of things, but rather jumping right to the core.
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DEAN OF STUDENTS
history professor
head of hufflepuff
metamorphagus
33 years old
Mixed-Blood
Single
Lee
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Post by Illyana Sophia Ambrosia on Nov 4, 2012 9:38:27 GMT -6
One of the traits of Grey was that he was very straightforward. Illyana wasn’t entirely sure whether that was a good or bad quality that he possessed. Perhaps a little bit of both. She could see the necessity of skipping small talk and just skip to the core problem of things; it was a very rational and pragmatic way of thinking. Most of the time it would probably be a tactful approach, even smart, however not all people were constructed in this way. Sometimes you needed to try a different approach, a more soft and careful approach when dealing with an issue. And although most people thought small talk might be a waste of time, if one knew where to look there could still be said a lot of important things. But Illyana guessed that “reading between the lines” wasn’t exactly Grey’s strong point. Having worked so long with this man she had picked up on a few character traits of his.
Illyana wasn’t sure if she was glad or remorseful that he had accepted her request. She wasn’t quite sure why she had had such a sudden outburst of emotion. It had been quite irrational on her behalf. Usually when she had moments like this she found her way down to Catherine’s gardens or greenhouses and had a cup of tea to calm her nerves. At the moment thought Grey was at her disposal. He was somewhat of a friend, having worked so long together, however she did not feel like she knew the man at all. She did not even know if his parents were dead or alive, or if he was married, or had any siblings. These things, in her mind she thought she should know them before letting her heart pour out whatever troubles they had. She bit her lower lip as she contemplated his direct statement. Something was the matter; question was if she should burden him with any of it.
The woman tilted her head slightly as a gush of wind threw itself on the pair. “I was once engaged. Did you know that?” she said softly, looking down at the picture in her book. She silently closed it. She could not stand to look at it any longer.
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DEPUTY HEADMASTER
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Post by Grey Alford Porter on Nov 16, 2012 9:49:37 GMT -6
People often misjudged the man based upon his outward demeanor and his tendency for the direct approach. However, behind all that was still an observant mind, keen to pick up on small details. Grey had not been sorted into Slytherin for no reason after all. He was cunning and sly in his own ways, ways that most people did not notice quickly. No, the man’s problems laid mostly in the fact that he was not genial towards other people. He did not invite relationships because in his life experiences they had proven to be nothing but troublesome. He had yet to find someone worth the trouble of sharing his thoughts and opinions openly with. He had yet to find someone he felt he could actually trust. There it was. Grey did not trust anyone. He anticipated everyone in his acquaintance to at some point prove themselves untrustworthy. While unfair, Grey had lived long enough that this was the better route to take than to truth others freely. Even with Illyana, Grey harbored a small amount of distrust towards the woman. None of this was ever openly, as the man tended to treat people uniformly, instead it was all held hidden deep inside.
So while it seemed uncharacteristic of the man to remain, it really wasn’t. A person would probably have to be completely heartless or oblivious to not have answered the woman’s plea to remain. Unfortunately Grey was neither. He certainly was not the Herbology Professor, a warm and caring confident. However, Grey was an intelligent human-being, and regardless of whether he could be of any real assistance, he was still able to lend an open ear. An ear, Illyana could be sure that would not leak what it heard to others. Her confidence would remain strictly between the two Professors and no others.
“It is not information that has come up, no,” Grey answered as he leaned his elbows over his knees, his hands clasping together between. A subtle brow raise was met with the closing of her book, and the hiding of its hidden bounty. The man said nothing in regards to the glimpse of the photograph inside. He could only imagine that it was all linked together. The photo. Her unease. Asking for his company. Closing the book. It all seemed to fit in the man’s mind. However, he did not point any of this out, or ask upon it. It was Illyana’s decision as to what she wanted to disclose and how much. Certainly it was not information Grey had a wealth of knowledge on. He was a bastard son himself, and as such he had never came close to the house of matrimony—his own views being somewhat jaded due to his parentage. Yet if asked, the man might have been persuaded to share some things; he just was not an open book. |
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DEAN OF STUDENTS
history professor
head of hufflepuff
metamorphagus
33 years old
Mixed-Blood
Single
Lee
58 posts
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Post by Illyana Sophia Ambrosia on Dec 3, 2012 4:39:30 GMT -6
Perhaps this was just one of those times, one of those moment in life where you depend upon the kindness of a stranger. Without Catherine around, the woman she usually confessed to when her mind was at unease, it landed on the next thing handy to her. Grey. It was without concern if he even cared that she spoke to him now, without fear of him telling anyone or judging her, it was simply a moment where she felt the need to relieve herself from these feelings. She was a rather emotional person, a warm person. She wore her emotions bravely, like colours on her sleeve. Some said that was stupid, and many times she agreed. It was often stupid to be so naïve to the world, yet she wasn’t naïve. She knew the world was often a horrible place where people were capable of malicious things, yet she wouldn’t be true to herself if she kept hiding herself away. She had spent so much time hiding. A pretty little wallflower, blending in with her surroundings.
“It’s not exactly what you put on the job application, no,” she laughed a little. Of course she hadn’t told him, or anyone else of it for that matter. Catherine knew she had had a fiancé, but it had still been so fresh when she had told her that, so they had left it at that and the subject hadn’t come up since. Illyana sighed a little, leaning back. The enchantment on the bench was fading, and she was starting to feel the cold creep up on her. “I guess this time of year just reminds me of it,” she said. There was a sad undertone to her voice. After all, the break up had not ended well, at least not for her. She had never thought him capable of physical abuse, yet that was what she had do endure to break free from his grasp. Her best friend. Her fiancé. Her traitor. She suddenly laughed a little, by her own silliness. “I am being awfully nostalgic right now, aren’t I?” It was a rhetorical question, and knowing Grey she didn’t really expect him to reflect on her mentality.
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DEPUTY HEADMASTER
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Post by Grey Alford Porter on Dec 3, 2012 7:59:38 GMT -6
A ghost of a smile flickered over the bloke’s lips at her small jibe on job applications. It was certainly something that filled his days sometimes. Reading applications and arranging interviews for prospective new faculty members. Yet, the woman would be probably be a little surprised as to some of the digging that went into the process before a subject was even contemplated as suitable. Granted, Grey did not dig heavily into a person’s history as perhaps some employers. There had been those in the past who went over things with a fine tooth comb, who someone felt saw every secret a person possessed. Grey had met such people before, and he never saw himself as one of them. No. He looked only as far as he needed to go, and only rarely farther if something did not jive correctly.
Yet the man said nothing in response to the joke, but waited for Illyana to find her pace and thoughts, structuring them into what she wanted to share. The professor did not expect the other to divulged deep secrets as their acquaintance would not warrant such an in depth confession. It would seem uncharacteristic of either them in that moment.
His head tilted a few degrees to the side as he contemplated her statement before making a response. “You would know better that anyone that history should not be forgotten no matter the emotions and actions associated with the event,” he voiced, referencing her position as History Professor. “There are things we shouldn’t forget for how they shaped us and the world we live in. While some would say so not to repeat past mistakes, I would say so as to keep us grounded in this life.” Grey leaned back, ignoring the chill of the stone bench. The coldness hardly bothered him considering the dungeons were often cold in their stone prison.
“So be nostalgic, and accept the past for what it is.” The man spoke simply. He knew that Illyana would have known these words of wisdom as they were so often applied when looking back into history, but so rarely do people seem to apply them to their own lives.
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DEAN OF STUDENTS
history professor
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metamorphagus
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Lee
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Post by Illyana Sophia Ambrosia on Jan 28, 2013 18:15:48 GMT -6
Illyana stopped her thought for a moment, letting the chill cool her and her thoughts reassemble. Grey was right. Of course he was right. Although he wasn’t saying it, she knew she was being silly. It was just this goddamn time of year that made her feel this way. She titled her head, contemplating his words again, knowing in her heart how right they seemed. However, no matter how right he was, logic did not belong in the domain of the heart. Often she tried to rule it with her mind, but her feelings remained forever at large. She never did quite know when they would strike up a conversation with her.
The woman smiled a little to the man. “Yes, of course you’re right,” she said dismissively. She was sorry she had begun the conversation to begin with, as it caused her great distress and confusion to think about. Accepting. It was hard to accept what her past was. It was hard for her to accept that some men simply couldn’t handle their spouses and physically abused them. And it was hard to accept that it had happened to her. Actually, she often didn’t accept it. Sometimes she pretended it hadn’t happened to her. Sometimes it was too unfair to accept. Sometimes, sometimes accepting things for what they were, for what the past was, was just silly. Although that notion in itself was silly, Illyana was in no control of that aspect of herself. That was history was easy for her. It wasn’t her past, it was someone else’s, and it was much easier to accept and analyse what hadn’t happened to her.
Abruptly she stood up, the spell on the bench leaving as she did so. The wind bellowed around her, hitting her coldly in the face with its long paws. “I’m sorry to have take up your time, I know how busy you are,” she said with a fond smile at him. “I shan’t keep you any longer,” she said and with a quick beat. Briskly she took a foot in front of the other, but stopped and turned to look at the man on the bench. “But, thanks for the talk though,” she said, smiling, a little sadly, before turning again and starting the walk back up to the castle.
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