Monster Mash: when the stars shine favourably (Lavender/Ron; Lavender/Blaise)
Title: when the stars shine favourably
Pairing: present Lavender/Ron, hinted future Lavender/Blaise
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1,298
Summary: Subbing for Sybill, Sarah Sapworthy makes all the usual vague predictions; they worm their way into fertile imaginations. (Prequel to a story where Lavender and Blaise explore some... possibilities.)
Author's Notes: My prompts were: Divination ritual/s and Jack-o-lantern. Canon-compliant, eighth year, post-BoH. (As her death is never officially confirmed, Lavender survived, obvs. Canonically! 😉) Ron is sadly not in a great place post-war, so this isn't a Ron-friendly story.
Thanks for running the fest! ❤️
Read on ( LJ / DW / AO3) or right here: Monday, 26 October, 1998 - the week before Halloween
Divination classroom
Sarah Sapworthy, Hogwarts' rather fit Professor of Xylomancy, walks into Sybill Trelawney's classroom and laughs. It seems Sybill had fully embraced the upcoming holiday, changed the colours of the soft furnishings accordingly, added a few hundred thoroughly superfluous floating candles to the mix and charmed all her crystal balls to look like Jack-o-lanterns. Well. It was nicely done, no question, but Sarah can't help wondering if the witch won't come to regret that decision after the unfortunate incident at lunch. Hmm.
In an attempt to reassure the students that things were getting back to normal in the aftermath of the war - or at least what passes for normal at the school - Minerva had made a respectable effort to out-Albus Albus himself, bless his soul, and the Great Hall was indeed something of a spectacle just at the moment. While trying to avoid a swooping cloud of bats - something of a legitimate hazard to be sure - Sybill had collided quite smashingly with a floating pumpkin. There had been all the usual jokes about her not being able to see where she was going, managing to be both ableist and highly dismissive of their field in one, cheers, and in a show of solidarity Sarah had immediately volunteered to see to her colleague's afternoon classes while Poppy sorted the Seer herself.
The seventh and eighth year students begin to file into the Divination classroom. Having witnessed the scene at lunch - to a witchard, Sod's law - no explanation for her presence is required, and taking her prompt from the vague notes on chalkboard, Sarah launches into a surprisingly smooth recitation on the theory behind providing readings for others. The ability to improvise is absolutely crucial to their field, of course; hopefully it doesn't diverge too much from whatever Sybill has been telling them. Ah well. After much build up - she is rather good at that - she's effectively forced to finish the hour with a practical display of scrying. Selecting the nearest crystal ball (presently sporting a toothy grimace) to her left on the small table between Gryffindors Brown and Patil, she conjures a pouf of her own and joins them. As a Xylomancer, the crystal isn't her tool of choice, naturally, and she'll allow she's perhaps a touch rusty in the presentation, but the young women are true believers - invariably an advantage - and Sarah is typically game to make the best off it.
With elaborate hand movements and a sing-song quality to her voiced pitched deliberately low, primarily she conjures a bit of atmosphere as she has Brown place her hands first in hers and then in turn both switch to clutching the orbuculum between them. After a few incantations, those always sound good, Sarah releases the witch's hands and begins to move hers still more elaborately above the sphere. Her long tapered fingers are another decided advantage. More chanting and then the fog within swirls, crystallising into a fright of little ghosts - Sybill really had outdone herself - and Sarah gets down to the sensitive work of weaving a plausible prediction.
After the usual nondescript beginnings - times of joy, followed by great disappointment and times of deep sorrow, more tosh, when the stars shine favourably upon you, hope looms... frankly that was always true - something more concrete needs to follow, and therein lies the risk. "I see a handsome young Nubian god..." off to her right Parkinson laughs - surprising as she's also something of a believer - briefly disrupting Sarah's creative flow. When the girl proceeds to elbow Zabini in the ribs - rather too obviously for a Slytherin she should think - her reaction makes a little more sense however. Yes, Sarah could see him referring to himself that way; it's a bit of a toss-up whether he's more pretty than vain, and he's exceptionally pretty... She tries not to smirk at the thought as she somewhat cautiously continues with a different thread.
"I see a fearsome creature, something eerie, something ghostly... Something... Ah! A corporeal Patronus! Leaping into action..." She'd held Brown's interest well enough, but apparently it's Patil's turn to interject an all too disbelieving laugh, rather louder than Parkinson's as well, cheers.
Hmm.
It seems Brown hadn't come close to mastering the corporeal variant of the Charm. Ah well. That was a bit of a gamble. Sarah had heard so many rumours to the effect that Dumbledore's little army had... Bygones.
She goes silent for a pause as she peers at the ball, trying to make out shapes in the mists, and then wishing she hadn't, a blush tinging her cheeks, the reasons for it further confused by Patil's interruption. The things students get up to. Least said...
Quite feeling the students are no longer paying proper attention anyway - so just another Monday then - Sarah is relieved when she's spared the need to continue by her Tempus chiming, thankfully bringing an end to the lesson. Patil and Parkinson are still giggling as they exit. Brilliant.
Well Sybill will simply have to tell them that's why one doesn't consult a Xylomancer for a reading with a crystal ball. This was entirely Sybill's fault, though. It almost definitely would have helped if the damn things hadn't been charmed to look like carved pumpkins. What was she thinking?
Sarah misses her rather less seasonal twigs and their far more objective augury.
Pansy's laughter notwithstanding - Blaise absolutely refuses to be shamed for being aware of his stunning good looks; he's far from an idiot - he spares a speculative look in Brown's direction as the group makes its way to DADA. There's nothing behind it. He's been known to speculate about a great many things. And people. Often. To the best of his knowledge, the witch is sneaking around with the Gryffindor Keeper at the moment anyway. Only a few weeks ago, the Baron had reported finding them... sequestered in an alcove... Unfortunately the Weasel is a Prefect and he and Brown are both eighth years; any attempts at House point deduction were almost destined to become messy, and Draco had seemed unusually reluctant to try. No doubt they've his summer spent before the Wisengamot to thank for that.
The Slytherins had noted with some interest, however, that the two Moggies hadn't gone public with the relationship in the time since...
Whatever else, Blaise has to admit Brown is extremely easy on the eyes. Her heart-shaped arse in particular. It's no coincidence that he finds himself looking at it more often in the weeks to come.
Lavender finds the whole thing too, too exciting - such an honour to be chosen for the reading - or had done right up until 'Vati's laughter. Fine, the whole corporeal Patronus thing did seem fairly unlikely. Try as she might, she's simply never been able to produce one. To be fair, they were generally acknowledged to be difficult, and yet so many people she knows had succeeded... Her pleasure with the reading wanes further when 'Vati proceeds to tell the other Gryffindors in their N.E.W.T. DADA class all about it - too, too funny, right? - and Ron almost predictably begins needling her for her failure with the Patronus Charm. The teasing is fairly gentle, isn't it? He doesn't mean it badly, Lav's sure, and maybe some of it's about trying to keep the others from suspecting they've begun seeing one another again - almost definitely that, and he'll probably make it up to her later - but it's also no coincidence that she redoubles her efforts to master the Charm. There's a reason a group of lions is called a pride...
When a spectral blue wolf finally leaps from her wand after another week and a half of intense practice - almost as if in response to the full moon, really - she thinks of this moment and smiles triumphantly.
Pairing: present Lavender/Ron, hinted future Lavender/Blaise
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1,298
Summary: Subbing for Sybill, Sarah Sapworthy makes all the usual vague predictions; they worm their way into fertile imaginations. (Prequel to a story where Lavender and Blaise explore some... possibilities.)
Author's Notes: My prompts were: Divination ritual/s and Jack-o-lantern. Canon-compliant, eighth year, post-BoH. (As her death is never officially confirmed, Lavender survived, obvs. Canonically! 😉) Ron is sadly not in a great place post-war, so this isn't a Ron-friendly story.
Thanks for running the fest! ❤️
Read on ( LJ / DW / AO3) or right here: Monday, 26 October, 1998 - the week before Halloween
Divination classroom
Sarah Sapworthy, Hogwarts' rather fit Professor of Xylomancy, walks into Sybill Trelawney's classroom and laughs. It seems Sybill had fully embraced the upcoming holiday, changed the colours of the soft furnishings accordingly, added a few hundred thoroughly superfluous floating candles to the mix and charmed all her crystal balls to look like Jack-o-lanterns. Well. It was nicely done, no question, but Sarah can't help wondering if the witch won't come to regret that decision after the unfortunate incident at lunch. Hmm.
In an attempt to reassure the students that things were getting back to normal in the aftermath of the war - or at least what passes for normal at the school - Minerva had made a respectable effort to out-Albus Albus himself, bless his soul, and the Great Hall was indeed something of a spectacle just at the moment. While trying to avoid a swooping cloud of bats - something of a legitimate hazard to be sure - Sybill had collided quite smashingly with a floating pumpkin. There had been all the usual jokes about her not being able to see where she was going, managing to be both ableist and highly dismissive of their field in one, cheers, and in a show of solidarity Sarah had immediately volunteered to see to her colleague's afternoon classes while Poppy sorted the Seer herself.
The seventh and eighth year students begin to file into the Divination classroom. Having witnessed the scene at lunch - to a witchard, Sod's law - no explanation for her presence is required, and taking her prompt from the vague notes on chalkboard, Sarah launches into a surprisingly smooth recitation on the theory behind providing readings for others. The ability to improvise is absolutely crucial to their field, of course; hopefully it doesn't diverge too much from whatever Sybill has been telling them. Ah well. After much build up - she is rather good at that - she's effectively forced to finish the hour with a practical display of scrying. Selecting the nearest crystal ball (presently sporting a toothy grimace) to her left on the small table between Gryffindors Brown and Patil, she conjures a pouf of her own and joins them. As a Xylomancer, the crystal isn't her tool of choice, naturally, and she'll allow she's perhaps a touch rusty in the presentation, but the young women are true believers - invariably an advantage - and Sarah is typically game to make the best off it.
With elaborate hand movements and a sing-song quality to her voiced pitched deliberately low, primarily she conjures a bit of atmosphere as she has Brown place her hands first in hers and then in turn both switch to clutching the orbuculum between them. After a few incantations, those always sound good, Sarah releases the witch's hands and begins to move hers still more elaborately above the sphere. Her long tapered fingers are another decided advantage. More chanting and then the fog within swirls, crystallising into a fright of little ghosts - Sybill really had outdone herself - and Sarah gets down to the sensitive work of weaving a plausible prediction.
After the usual nondescript beginnings - times of joy, followed by great disappointment and times of deep sorrow, more tosh, when the stars shine favourably upon you, hope looms... frankly that was always true - something more concrete needs to follow, and therein lies the risk. "I see a handsome young Nubian god..." off to her right Parkinson laughs - surprising as she's also something of a believer - briefly disrupting Sarah's creative flow. When the girl proceeds to elbow Zabini in the ribs - rather too obviously for a Slytherin she should think - her reaction makes a little more sense however. Yes, Sarah could see him referring to himself that way; it's a bit of a toss-up whether he's more pretty than vain, and he's exceptionally pretty... She tries not to smirk at the thought as she somewhat cautiously continues with a different thread.
"I see a fearsome creature, something eerie, something ghostly... Something... Ah! A corporeal Patronus! Leaping into action..." She'd held Brown's interest well enough, but apparently it's Patil's turn to interject an all too disbelieving laugh, rather louder than Parkinson's as well, cheers.
Hmm.
It seems Brown hadn't come close to mastering the corporeal variant of the Charm. Ah well. That was a bit of a gamble. Sarah had heard so many rumours to the effect that Dumbledore's little army had... Bygones.
She goes silent for a pause as she peers at the ball, trying to make out shapes in the mists, and then wishing she hadn't, a blush tinging her cheeks, the reasons for it further confused by Patil's interruption. The things students get up to. Least said...
Quite feeling the students are no longer paying proper attention anyway - so just another Monday then - Sarah is relieved when she's spared the need to continue by her Tempus chiming, thankfully bringing an end to the lesson. Patil and Parkinson are still giggling as they exit. Brilliant.
Well Sybill will simply have to tell them that's why one doesn't consult a Xylomancer for a reading with a crystal ball. This was entirely Sybill's fault, though. It almost definitely would have helped if the damn things hadn't been charmed to look like carved pumpkins. What was she thinking?
Sarah misses her rather less seasonal twigs and their far more objective augury.
Pansy's laughter notwithstanding - Blaise absolutely refuses to be shamed for being aware of his stunning good looks; he's far from an idiot - he spares a speculative look in Brown's direction as the group makes its way to DADA. There's nothing behind it. He's been known to speculate about a great many things. And people. Often. To the best of his knowledge, the witch is sneaking around with the Gryffindor Keeper at the moment anyway. Only a few weeks ago, the Baron had reported finding them... sequestered in an alcove... Unfortunately the Weasel is a Prefect and he and Brown are both eighth years; any attempts at House point deduction were almost destined to become messy, and Draco had seemed unusually reluctant to try. No doubt they've his summer spent before the Wisengamot to thank for that.
The Slytherins had noted with some interest, however, that the two Moggies hadn't gone public with the relationship in the time since...
Whatever else, Blaise has to admit Brown is extremely easy on the eyes. Her heart-shaped arse in particular. It's no coincidence that he finds himself looking at it more often in the weeks to come.
Lavender finds the whole thing too, too exciting - such an honour to be chosen for the reading - or had done right up until 'Vati's laughter. Fine, the whole corporeal Patronus thing did seem fairly unlikely. Try as she might, she's simply never been able to produce one. To be fair, they were generally acknowledged to be difficult, and yet so many people she knows had succeeded... Her pleasure with the reading wanes further when 'Vati proceeds to tell the other Gryffindors in their N.E.W.T. DADA class all about it - too, too funny, right? - and Ron almost predictably begins needling her for her failure with the Patronus Charm. The teasing is fairly gentle, isn't it? He doesn't mean it badly, Lav's sure, and maybe some of it's about trying to keep the others from suspecting they've begun seeing one another again - almost definitely that, and he'll probably make it up to her later - but it's also no coincidence that she redoubles her efforts to master the Charm. There's a reason a group of lions is called a pride...
When a spectral blue wolf finally leaps from her wand after another week and a half of intense practice - almost as if in response to the full moon, really - she thinks of this moment and smiles triumphantly.