Try your hand at duelling!

Author Topic: Goodbye to a World | Dunfrait AU  (Read 189 times)

Jamie Duncan

    (02/06/2019 at 22:46)
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September 1st, 1944
Kingscross station. 9:34am

They had driven in, it was safer on the roads. From the sprawling countryside where many English children had come (Jamie had made more than enough friends these last few years thanks to this initiative) for their own protection to the bombarded and swept up streets of old industrial and residential zones in London, England and all nations in the United Kingdom had suffered greatly from the war.  It was not the time to be having children, but mother was expecting a new child any day now - maybe another brother, or, if mother was right (and she often somehow knew everything they were thinking) a girl.

Everything in the city looked more worse than it smelled. All the dust had settled from years of bombardment and the curiosity of his mind was heightened when more than one family crossed a street, hands all held in a chain of faith as they marched to the corner store. Was their food rationed here? The Duncan's had been donating what excess they had to the local community and solider posts around Scotland. It often meant less pork and more boring vegetables he had no intention of eating.

Their car, a large ute, more made for off-roads than city driving was filled in the open air back with Jamie's new school things. A hardened leather case and strapped on pewter cauldron, scales and broom were all included. Smooch - his  large faithful companion of a cat, had refused to sit outside in the elements and climbed into the front seats with the two boys. It was best only the two of them came to the station.

Father carried his things and set them upon the first available trolley after they parked.   

Firm hands held onto his shoulders, stabilizing the towering bearded adult more than calming the boy in his grasp. Apart from the same coloured eyes, both were looking between the patrolling armed forces and macabe dressed individuals who were hurrying their way from platform to platform.

"Pa.... I gotta go- y' heard w-w... w-what mother says." Jamie was trembling. His fingers knitted together as he fidgeted his way into some form of confidence. The world around him had been nothing but the news of bomb droppings and European nations being conquered for the last few years. Jamie was not adult enough to understand, but knew his father’s fear well enough to keep them home from school on more than one occasion when planes overhead was heard. He, like everyone he knew didn't want to part from his family. Not when they were all still at risk. But he had to do what mother said. Aiden, was the one he felt the worse for. His little shadow who followed him around the inn, through some of the secret passageways in the house stead, and played with him at all opportunities. Jamie didn't mind, he had done the same to his older brother Fergus when younger. But Fergus had distanced himself after Jamie once made half the furniture in his room invisible during a fight. Mother had been expecting it, much less than his other family who blamed him for hiding a double bed somewhere in the house. "It's the safest place in the world."

Lead kept him stationary, but it was the hands on his shoulders that turned him slowly to speak. ‘I know, Son, Yeh mother is often righ, innshe?’

A nod. A wipe of his nose to conceal his own departure blues. Nervousness was ink that bled through the skin. The dark-haired boy nodded. “Mnn!” Chocolate eyes met his fathers and, with a kiss to his brow they pushed the trolley together through the barrier onto the platform.

Kingscross Station
Platform 9¾ 10:07am

Owls. That was the first Jamie's eyes darted to. He ducked under the arms of his father to rush forward to look at the untouched haven between one pillar and the next. How did wizards even fit another platform within nothing but a pillar?! How did the train even take off? He eyed a particularly snowy owl who had had more than enough of the moving nonsense and the noise, its head tucked under its wing as it attempted to sleep through the commotion of children and parents giving their farewells as older students boarded the train. Jamie wondered if the 'farewell' got easier the older you got.  The bold red train was another thing to catch his attention, the tunnel it lead out of didn't even appear to have much city on the other side. More questions to ask another adult.

He could hardly deny it now, Jamie Duncan was a wizard. Fergus hadn't been, nor had Kenneth and Mother had kept a secret all too well that she, and his only and oldest sister, Geillis were both witches. Were the boys in his family until now unlucky? The Nervousness that seeped through his skin had puddled all at his feet now and was abandoned as he darted back towards his father. "Pa! You see?! the Owl?! How did they do this?" The answer was Magic, and William, the burly muggle man simply rolled his shoulders in wonder.

The pair spent their time talking as time ticked down. All until the final bell where a distraught looking individual in uniform called for the last of the students to make their way onto the train.  Neither of them wanted this to be a final goodbye, it was a 'see you later'. The pair hugged and Jamie entered the train near to last.

The Hogwarts Express

Without his luggage and only a cat in his arms that engulfed half his small body in fur, Jamie moved down the busy first carriage. All of the compartments were full of older students or, people around his age all talking happily. There was barely any room in any compartment for him. Briar said he was somewhere on this train, but Jamie was yet to find him. 

It was two train compartment later that he found one empty enough, only two young students around his age were within. Both girls who were watching the scenery outside morph from city to countryside before their eyes. A hand struggled under the heavy cat, and he pulled the sliding door aside to enter. "Hi!"  It was best to sound like he belonged. "There isn' any room anywhere else, can I sit 'ere?" he had sat down without asking regardless when smooch leaped from his arms and propped herself down on someones bag, The force of the mangled Maine Coon jumping had propelled him back into the seat nearest the door.

Jamie Duncan really was a wizard. And so were these too people, Girl wizards.

On appraisal, Jamie was a skinny boy. With lanky legs and arms he hadn't yet grown into and, a mop of hair that needed trimming. His hair was as deep brown as his eyes and reflected back the same warm glow his smile earned. His clothes were all hand me downs, a mix of too small and too big. "Do you guys know anything about--" he froze, what was the name of the school? "The School?" he settled on that, no one would know he knew nothing about magic, right? "I'm Jamie! Jamie Duncan."He rolled up his too long sleeve and extended  friendly hand across to the pair of girls across from him.

The journey was about to begin.
« Last Edit: 02/06/2019 at 22:50 by Jamie Duncan »

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* Adelaide Parfait

    (02/07/2019 at 22:29)
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Hogwarts was most certainly not Beauxbatons. The smoky grey uniform that most definitely did not go with her silvery eyes had nothing in comparison to the light blue silk dress that she dreamed of proudly wearing. The uniform of the Beauxbaton's girls, the people she could only dream of being like, the uniform that her sister wore, was iconic, and she had spent her childhood preparing to be like every other girl who sported the code.

Unfortunately, Beauxbatons was not deemed to be safe enough for the youngest daughter of the Parfait family. She was the protected one, and it truly was not fair, as Justine was allowed to attend the school, and wear the uniform, and be like their mother, but Adelaide was decidedly not. In fact, her mother had told her that Hogwarts was the safest place on Earth, but the blonde had read up on the subject, and in what world were moving deathtrap staircases deemed to be safe? And the idea of houses was well and truly ridiculous, simply a way of dividing people, instead of uniting them. Mother had said that she had to stay in England, as France was just too dangerous to remain in, but the words- and the implications of the war- flew over her head. The bombs had been dropping in the city around them, yet they remained intact courtesy of the protection charms around the house, but still Mother said it was just too dangerous to stay there.

Therefore, the family had travelled by ship. Almost the entire family, that was, Justine had stayed behind at one of her friend's houses as there was no point of her making the journey. In fact, the trio looked picture perfect, all dressed to the heights of fashion- despite the war, despite the situation in France. The travel had in fact, been a rather luxurious one, a boat trip across the channel, Adelaide admiring the sea, smelling the fresh salty scent, before being dragged back inside and reprimanded for running off-- though she was only a few minutes away-- and pulled back to the dining table to sit and be pretty for dinner. The two hour crossing had been slow, as the conversation had been long, and dull, and in English- which the eleven year old did not speak particularly well.

They'd stayed in a hotel, in London, which Ophelia Parfait had most definitely been apprehensive about, as she tugged her daughter past a pile of rubble. The little girl staring at children playing in it, searching for scraps, and, having asked her mother if she was permitted to join them, was promptly scolded for doing so. They'd gone down Diagon Alley, which the small blonde had regarded with wide eyes. There was something about England, not large, and marble- like the bank had been there, or the homes in France- but rather, it was perfectly small, and rickety. Yes, Diagon Alley was most definitely rickety, with some parts of houses jutting out, and the architecture all over the place. Her wrist held firmly within her mother's hand, she was dragged along behind her parents, and told to not dawdle more times than she could possibly count. She'd paid no notice of anything that her family had bought-- staring at the pet cats, desperately wanting one but being denied, and shuddering at the sight of the quidditch shop-- until they reached the robe shop. She'd been expecting something nice and comfortable, like the silky robes of Beauxbatons, she had not been expecting an itchy cardigan, stiff shirt, pleated skirt and grey socks. It was not fashionable, or comfortable, at all. The hats were simply hidious, and the blonde vowed to herself to never wear it, not to mention the robes. Who could possibly make this uniform look good? It was impossible.

She'd stomped her foot, and cried, and begged, trying to be sent to Beauxbatons, but to no avail, as she was still dragged to Kings Cross Station, whether she liked it or not. Trunk- or rather, trunks, three large things, each decorated- being pushed in front of her by her father, as her mother held her hand.

The goodbye had not been tearful, or particularly emotional, as Parfait's held themselves with pride. In fact, to anyone else, it may have seemed as though the French family did not care for each other- which could not be further from the truth. In fact, the blonde cared more for her family than anyone else in the universe. It was shown through other ways; the way she clutched her mother's hand as if refusing to let go, the way her father patted her on the head, the way they all showed a single second of emotion before hiding it away. Her mother had carefully tied her hair up into a ponytail and was fiddling with the loose strands when the daughter had batted her hands away. The Parfaits all shared a nod before the little girl stepped onto the train for the first time.

The Hogwarts Express

She did not know when the other girl had joined her on the trip, neither did she care. In fact, the pair both sat perfectly comfortably in absolute silence, listening to the sound of the train whirring, and the occasional sound of a page turning. Adelaide was, in fact, sulking, partially because she was wearing her Hogwarts uniform- socks pulled up perfectly, and a skirt that she would grow into falling below her knees; the cardigan lay unwanted in her bag, as no amount of cold was worth that level of itchiness- and not the Beauxbatons silk dream. A book lay in front of her, but she was not reading it, instead, she was watching the British countryside. It was so much more peaceful than that of France.

The pair were perfectly happy in their silence, at least, until that was disrupted.

An overly enthusiastic boy practically bounced into their compartment, and completely destroyed all sense of tranquility in the small space. Adelaide turned and eyed him warily. He was loud, that was for certain, and his accent, was thick- which made it hard to decipher what he was saying. Not to mention his manners, well, they were seemingly non-existant, as he asked the question and then immediately presumed that she had agreed to it-- which she had most certainly not done-- and his cat had decided to sit on her bag of all things. The blonde shot it a glare, and went to snatch her bag from under him, only to hear a hiss. Great.

The boy, the singular person who would make this train journey a living nightmare, was scruffy. He evidently did not care for his appearance in the same way the blonde did-- her uniform, although uncomfortable, was pristine, her hair was perfectly done, and she was fresh and ready for Hogwarts-- but his smile seemed nice, welcoming in a way, the blonde realised, as she stared at him. Maybe he would be alright.

No, wait, he opened that mouth of his again, though this time for a question, and an introduction, in one. Adelaide decided to answer his question, after all, it was only the polite thing to do, and she had to represent the family. A perfectly manicured hand reached across to shake his, as she spoke calmly, an icy gaze resting upon him, "Adelaide Parfait." She did not expect the other girl to speak, and so, continued.

"'ogwarts, eez..." She tried to think of the word, and then remembered what felt like the thousandth reason towards going to Beauxbatons: she did not speak English. "interesting. It 'as zees 'ouses: Poufsouffle, Gryffondor, Serdaigle et Serpentard."

The blonde listed the houses off effortlessly in her own language, but any English she attempted was veiled by her thick accent. If only she had access to her bag, and then she could give him her copy of Hogwarts: A History, and shut him up. He truly was annoyingly perky.

Jamie Duncan

    (02/08/2019 at 00:25)
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For one, Jamie had not entirely been expecting someone to answer him with disdain. Oh no, he had already come across as a helpless idiot who knew nothing about the wizarding world. Had this girl come from a line of super wizards and witches? maybe the more magic in your lines the better you were? And that would mean, he would be the weakest, right? with only one magical parent he was no way near as powerful as a both parents knowing magic.

The anchor of his ow pride was keeping him steady on the cushioned seat. It was far more comfortable than the car, and after hours of sitting in that he was keen to move a little. It was to his surprise that the girl across from his seat with silky hair and shiny nails reached over a pampered hand for his own. Jamie had to roll up his floppy sleeve to clasp her hand, shaking it vibrantly in hello. He knew how to act like an adult! he'd seen father shake hands like this many times before.

"Parfaae?" she hadn't pronounced the end of the word - just like mother, would that mean she spoke french? her voice and cadence was so familiar to that of his mother.  A voice with a lulling sound he enjoyed reading to him. So many nuanced stories about princes and knights. When littler, Jamie had promised to be his mothers knight. But, Father might have objected now he pondered the idea. Could a wizard also be a knight?
 "Ravi de vous rencontrer.*" he could at least speak some, as mangled as his English was, his french was far more precise. Mother had schooled him when words were mispronounced on more than one occasion.

His French could use some improvement. It was not perfect, and understanding it was far easier than speaking it. The words were softened by his accent and forced him into a new posture when speaking. An alien inhabiting his body to steal the very Scottish nature from him in an instant.

When he reclined back, the book hit his chest, leaving him without air for a moment. "Hogwarts a History" he mumbled, eyes on the cover. He had left all of his things aside from his uniform in the larger trunk in the storage train. Were they expected to read everything from start to finish before classes began?! Now it had to be a mistake, while he was a wizard, maybe he wasn't qualified enough for this school.

A Huff.

Pink ears were obvious through the waves of dark hair, and an embarrassed glance was set up at the girl. "Which one do you think you'll be in? --" he had to ask, Jamie in the muggle world was never one to be picked first nor last for tag, maybe this was similar. He could imagine older students or even professors looking every student one by one as they selected the cream of the crop for their teams. He had best ask again in french, but he didnt know the word for 'school house', team would have to do.

"quelle équipe voulez-vous?" Another steeled smile.  Jamie Duncan was keen to make friends. Yet, it was not the french girl to respond first. The stranger, an ashen haired woman turned from peeking out the window and replied in a far more understandable tone than Jamie.

"My whole family have been in Ravenclaw." she informed them. Soon introducing herself as Grace Smith. "There's lots of muggleborns are school though, so you don't have to worry." Grace was a petite girl with frumpy shoulders. Her hair needed to be brushed again and the hair tie at the top of her head had her tangled waves fall over her shoulders like a net.  "I suppose i'll be there too. Gosh, there sure are a lot of new folks coming from Europe, huh? Anyway, she was wrong. Theres Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Gryffindor. Each are important and cater to different people." the girl eyed the woman to her side as her fingers wrapped towards the discarded book.

 Jamie had difficulty understanding what the girl meant. A muggle...what? someone born of muggles? what did that entail? It sounded like some sort of dog breed. "oh." It had to be bad, right? This girl clearly could tell he wasn't a powerful wizard like her family.

Jamie offered another steeled smile.

Yet, Grace smiled and reached over and plucked up the book on their to be school, consuming the knowledge within quietly as her sign of opting out of further discussion.

Which one of these houses catered to muggle people? That was probably where he would be.

*1. Ravi de vous rencontrer.  = Nice to meet you.
* quelle équipe voulez-vous? = Which team do you want?
« Last Edit: 02/10/2019 at 23:34 by Jamie Duncan »

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* Adelaide Parfait

    (02/11/2019 at 00:49)
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Adelaide resisted the urge to roll her eyes, or wince, or groan. His handshake was vigorous; like he was trying to pull her arm off. Did he not know how to give a polite handshake? She was trapped in a vice-like grip, and honestly felt like she should have been warned by the fact that he had to roll up his sleeve to prepare for the handshake. Would it ever end? She felt like it wouldn't, and that her hand would be stuck. His hands were oddly callous and rough, whilst the blonde meticulously used hand cream on her hands. Did he have no elegance?

Once she was finally free of his grip, the blonde pulled a bottle of hand cream, rubbing it on her hands. Well, they definitely needed it, she felt like he'd rubbed off part of her hands. Softly, she worked the cream into her hands- making them smell of lavender. She looked up at him, as she listened to him, as he repeated her surname. When he did so, the blonde nodded, as she looked at him. He was scruffy, that was for sure, but scruffy in a lovable way; like one of those ugly dogs that you couldn't help but love. He had those adorable chocolate brown eyes.

"Tu parle français?" Asked the blonde, looking surprised, as she stared at the brunette for a solid second. That was before she realised how rude she must have been.

"C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer aussi," she said softly, her voice almost moving by itself. She couldn't help but feel surprised, because his French wasn't fluent, or the best, but it was French, and she couldn't help but feel more comfortable with her usual language being spoken around her. But his accent was cute, it wasn't a French one, it was simply adorable, and caused the little blonde to do a half smile.

But then he leaned back again, he let out a huff which caused the blonde's smile to drop, even if it wasn't an actual smile. But his ears had turned pink-- were they sunburnt?-- but she looked at him, as she received his embarrassed glance. He was sweet, but she wasn't supposed to befriend sweet, she was meant to befriend pureblood girls, exclusively.

She looked over at him, as he repeated his question in French, with a smile, a stupid little smile. Just as Adelaide was about to respond, and had even opened her mouth to do so when the annoying other girl spoke over her. Grace Smith, Adelaide decided, was a thorn in her side. Her entire family were in Ravenclaw, well, Adelaide, hoped she ended up in Gryffindor. Generations of women on her mother's side had attended Beauxbatons, and she wouldn't get that. Why should rude Ms. Grace Smith get what she wanted?

Grace Smith was a mess, and Adelaide decided that-- pureblood or not-- she would never befriend the other girl. There were lots of new kids coming in, but she'd not met anyone else from Europe yet and she was pretty sure she'd know better than Grace, after all she was European. There weren't any other French students yet.  Grace was probably just trying to put her down for being too pretty- her mother had said that that would happen. And she had to be wary of people who tried to do so.

"I wasn't wrong, Grace. I just said zem in French." She said, giving the ashen-haired girl the closest thing to the steely gaze that would eventually be perfected in the future. Resisting the urge to finish the phrase with 'because you know, I am French', the blonde watched Grace suspiciously. She had not given her book to Grace, no she'd given it to Jamie-- the annoying little brunette with the vicelike grip.

But Jamie was smiling again, and Adelaide couldn't help but feel soft inside. Like when she was looking at a sad puppy that had been kicked. He was annoying, but in a cute way, kind of. No, he was very annoying, and he couldn't shake hands, and he didn't have many manners.

"I 'ope to be in Ravenclaw." She spoke, cooly, as she looked over at the eleven-year-old boy, "zat's ze 'ouse for ze smart people. Or Slytherin. And you, Jamie?"

Grace had made her choice very clear and had spoken over everyone else. When would she leave the compartment and leave her to read in silence? Jamie, she decided, she could most definitely tolerate. 

Jamie Duncan

    (02/12/2019 at 20:47)
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Excitedly he looked between both girls with cheeks full of hot air and a panicked yet hopeful gaze spreading from his brow to his lips in hope the two girls wouldn't implode on impact. They bot, in small ways acted as if they were ready to strike one another. Differing opinions aside, each of them were strangers. Jamie's heart was swelling, it was struggling to contain itself in the tense room.

This had been the wrong compartment. But leaving now would leave them both alone to fight, or worse. The girl was polite enough in returning his greeting but knew beneath the laced, pretty smile she held up she was doing just as mother had. Tolerating his bad behavior.

Like finger traps, his fingers were stuck together as they knotted and unwound from each other in is nervousness. Grace had taken over the conversation, yet the tension only worsened in the cart between the trio. No one in his family had ever attended Hogwarts before and, unlike these two, he had not yet touched his school books. Asking which house he was destined for was too much work for his head. But each of them seemed to hold something to heart. One house was for smart people, and Grace upon hearing Adelaide's desire to join her own destined house, showed a smile atop the rim of the book.

"U-uhh.. I... I don't know." he blubbered out, moving fingers from his lap to run through his hair, combing it behind his ears before alerted by how red they were. It was a frantic brush back to hide them again. He supposed any of them were good, but it didn't seem right that he would be put in Ravenclaw, so he had to rule that out. Jamie had only ever done average at normal school. An A or so in mathematics, he was quite proud of that one, and phys Ed he also achieved quite high. But most students from the country did well in that subject too.

As Jamie's mouth opened however, it was Grace to speak up again, having finished the chapter she was interested in and passing the book back across to sit beside Adelaide. "You? In Ravenclaw, I think you're better suited for Slytherin." she spoke with a cadence. "And, Jamie, right? I heard you can ask to be put in a house, so I wouldn't worry too much. Unless you're put in Slytherin, no one good ends up there."

Jamie gulped. No one good? Maybe it was the house for the unintelligent people. He was sure to be sorted into that one!

"There is Gryffindor - the house of the brave and impulsive. Slytherin - the house of ambition and self preservation, Hufflepuff - Hardworking and loyal, but Hufflepuff also takes people who don't fit in anywhere else, they're a bit odd like that. The Ravenclaw, as we said before, Intelligent and original."

They all didn't sound like they judged on previous grades at all. His shoulders dropped with his tension. All in all, they all sounded equal despite what Grace had said about Slytherin. Being Ambitious wasn't bad. Unless it caused you to cheat or hurt someone.

With a glance offered to Adelaide he restored his honest smile. "-well... Any of those sound fine to me." At least now he could relax. "U-uhm." he fished into one of his baggy pockets, revealing a small bungle of cookies his sister had made for him for the long journey. Simple oat cookies with honey instead of sugar. "Would any of you like some biscuits?" Sweets during the war, at least in non magical society were rare. Most sugar had been sent off to the front lines.

This would have been a pleasant offering if not for the rattling of the upcoming trolley. The doors again opened and a motherly, elderly woman looked in. Her colorful uniform lost against the expansive range of sweets and goods on offer on her little trolley. "First years? Anything from the trolley, kids?"

Jamie had never seen such hings before. His biscuits lay forgotten beside him. Whatever these were, he definitely couldn't afford anything. Miss grace however, could. She purchased herself something called a 'fizzing whizz bomb'. Something made of sherbet he was informed and, three licorice wands. The sight of everything made his stomach rumble, and apprehensively he showed the woman his cookies. "Noh' m'am, I have m' own snacks." Nothing could have made him look more like a wounded animal, forcing his gaze away from the bright delights. "Je n'ai pas les moyens" he mumbled, unwrapping his oat bickies to enjoy. "En veux-tu un?" he offered to Adelaide first.

At least, now he only had to share with one. No matter how drab he the golden biscuits were in comparison.

Trading glances for a stare,
My silent words have never spoke so loud