couldn't move, i was weak

[Imogen Sauveterre]

She was breaking the first rule on the list, and she didn’t care.

Hell, she was probably breaking a lot of rules right now. Which wasn’t exactly good, being a Prefect, having to set an example, et cetera. But Imogen wasn’t in her Hogwarts robes or Prefect badge right now, and she didn’t think anyone would care too much. She knew these animals, and she wasn’t going to ride or anything. She just… needed to get away for a bit. The castle and the stable might as well have been entirely different worlds; they weren’t too far from each other, but there was a comfort in being in the stables, a sort-of serenity that she couldn’t explain. Maybe it was because she was around beings – beasts, whatever – that had no idea of the school drama and didn’t give a rat’s arse anyway. And animals did have an ability to comfort people. Rational and scientific as Imogen could be, she genuinely believed this. The stables were a safe place where she could go when she just needed to get away from the rest of the world and try to get one step ahead of life for just a minute.

The snow wasn’t too deep, but it was a bitter cold that day and she wished she’d bundled up a bit more. But it would be a waste of time for her to race back up to Ravenclaw Tower just to get another jumper, and she was close to the stables anyway. She trudged the last few yards and hauled the door open enough to slip inside, then shut it again behind her.

Piper’s head was the first to pop over her stall door – probably looking for Hagrid, since the horse was especially fond of him. Upon seeing that it was only Imogen, she ducked back inside as though disappointed. Imogen chuckled to herself and started forward, giving Lucky a quick scratch behind the ears as she passed his stall. Denae’s stall door looked a little chewed and she peeked in on the mare, wondering if she should talk to Hagrid about it. It wouldn’t be good if she got wood chips in her stomach. She stood outside her stall for a moment, but Denae didn’t seem to be in a sociable mood, so Imogen continued on until she reached Willow and leaned her arms against the stall door. She clicked her tongue against her teeth, encouraging the mare over, and began stroking her face once she reached her.

“We’ll have to go for a gallop once the snow melts, yeah?” she said softly, scratching under her muzzle. “Get a few kicks out of you and we’ll be back in shape.” She snorted quietly as the mare’s eyes drooped and her lower lip went slack. “That your magic spot?” For a while she was silent, leaning against the stall door and petting Willow, staring somewhere down at the straw but not really focused. The stable was warm, so she unzipped her coat and tossed it and her scarf and mittens onto a pile of straw behind her before stroking Willow’s cheek again. “I’m jealous of you,” she joked, “you have enough hair that you don’t have to bundle up to step outside for five minutes.” All the horses had their own blanket for the days when it was cold enough for them to need it, but they were all fairly hardy for the most part. It was rare that the blankets were actually one them; none of them seemed to mind it a bit, though.

“… And you don’t have to deal with stupid dramatic life things.” She leaned her forehead against Willow’s face for a moment before drawing away. “Like guys. Ha. I kinda wish all the guys I was around were gelded. Well, some of them, anyway. Others… well, they’re not such a threat in that department.” She furrowed her brow a bit as she spoke and her tone softened. “It’s just… hard, sometimes. Juggling everything. Benjamin… he’s the boy who rides Obie. He… I dunno. I like him. I mean, I’ve fancied him for a year now, but I… I gave up on him. I guess it was right after I kissed him. But then later he kissed me, and said he liked me, which I thought was great but now I… I don’t think he meant it. Right now he doesn’t want anything to do with me. And it’s my fault, I fucked up by leaving, but… It just kind-of makes me wonder if his feelings were ever really there, you know? Or if he was upset because he and Jordan were circling the drain and he was lonely and I was just… there, throwing myself at him.”

Imogen sighed heavily and closed her eyes for a moment. Willow couldn’t understand a word she was saying, she knew, but talking about it – especially with a creature that wouldn’t judge you for any of it – was bound to help a little. It always had before. She reached up and scratched the mare behind the ears.

“It’s not that I think he doesn’t have feelings for me, but I… it feels like he doesn’t want anything to do with me. Friendship or anything else. I know I’m being too uptight but – well, I’m uptight about basically everything. Maybe I should just do it, huh? Let loose and just—”

She never did get to finish her sentence. The stable door began to slide and she froze up for a moment, wondering if it was just the wind. But no, it was definitely opening because someone was coming inside. Knowing how much trouble she’d be in if it was Hagrid or another professor, she quickly unlatched Willow’s stall door and scurried inside before re-latching it and ducking down. The steps weren’t heavy as whoever it was came inside, so it definitely wasn’t Hagrid. And she only heard one set, so whoever it was was breaking the rules just as much as she was. Feeling a bit more confident, Imogen stood, though stayed hidden behind Willow as she waited for whoever it was to show their face. The footsteps stopped before Willow’s stall so she couldn’t see who it was; deciding to get the upper hand, Imogen tried to steady her voice as much as possible:

“What’re you doing here?”

O P E N !

[Michaela Petrova]

All we need to be is caught up in the rush

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Sometimes the only person who can relate to you isn’t a person at all, but a horse. Michaela thought about this as she observed the stables, standing on the cold cobbled path outside the cozy-looking den. Mica didn’t really have a lot of trouble relating to people but she had been so busy lately that she had little time to talk to anyone. Today she had taken the day off from piano practice to spend with her friends only to find that they were swamped with plans for the day. She did her best to hide the disappointment in her voice and told herself that today could be like a spa day of relaxation for her. In the end, Mica wandered around looking for something to do, if for no other reason than that she was so used to being busy she hardly knew what to do when she was to the contrary. She tossed her dark hair over her shoulders when it became a nuisance to her face and placed her hands in her warm pockets. January was well on its way and Hogwarts was in the depths of winter. Everything was cold: the ground, the school, and the very air you breathed. She amused herself for a moment or two by breathing out as much as she could and watching her breath float up and away into the atmosphere. Little flurries of snow had been tapping down on the top of Mica’s head for some time now and they collected in a white halo on her hair. Mica had ridden a horse only once before when she was ten and she remembered how exciting it was to go running great distances atop the steed, but after away you became a little sore between the erm, knees. As she was not part of the riding club nor was riding allowed at the current time, she wasn’t forming the idea to go find a horse to ride today. She was only thinking about them, and how she seemed to have more time for horses than for her friends over the past couple of weeks. God. Michaela shook her head at herself. If she had been her own friend she would have purposely ignored herself in order to teach her an important lesson about the quality and necessity of friendship….that had made more sense in her head.

Even with a well-needed break from the piano Michaela was still going over the notes in her head. She imagined the falling snow as one beat and the gentle tapping of her foot as another. Being born and raised around music it was her life and therefore within everything that she could see. She probably should have spent less time focusing on music this past week and more on Vanessa Vaughn. It would take an idiot not to notice that there was something wrong and Mica had not been the concerned type of motherly figure she generally was. She would have to get on that immediately. The snow was falling harder now, picking up to a crescendo and her foot followed accordingly in rapid succession. There were a couple of Hufflepuffs that she knew in her year sitting underneath an oak tree. The girl was bundled up tightly and the boy had is arms around her shoulders to keep her warm. Greta (that was the girl’s name) kept drawing imaginary lines down his forearm and giggling flirtaciously. The two of them had been going out for some time now. She was happy for them, but it was reminding her that she’d like to be in a relationship like that right now. Mica supposed that some things about her were startling to others and were a put off, and she came to expect it, but she was a pretty girl no doubt with a nice personality. Again, her busy schedule was likely the culprit of her singledom. Still, it would be nice to meet a handsome guy or pretty girl inbetween those times. It became more difficult to see the two underneath the tree because of the falling snow, but she saw their outlines quickly stand up and run in the direction of the main school building. The wind was whizzing past her ears and Mica was becoming enveloped in a blizzard of snow.
Talk about coming on fast.

The closest building was the stables and Michaela was fully intent on getting out of the storm. She jogged to the entrance and pulled open the door, closing it shut behind herself with more noise than intended. A couple animals in the stable shifted restlessly at the sound. Her clothes may have been suitable winter material, but they weren’t completely protecting against a snow fest. Mica smiled slightly at a couple of horses she walked past, her shoes clicking with the collision against the rickety wood floor. It was much warmer in here and for that she was grateful, but she couldn’t help the feeling that she had just disturbed something. Michaela paused in front of a beautiful horse that looked at her with eyes like it knew something. ”What’re you doing here?” She started and looked wildly at the horse. No, the horse had not talked to her. Behind the horse was another girl who was looking at her suspiciously, like an intruder in their midst. Tall, very skinny brunette. Mica knew her from walking the halls as a prefect. Also, if that wasn’t enough, Imogen spoke with her once in potions class when Michaela was completely failing at a potion. She had always admired her from afar. Michaela was completely aware of how some girls got when she so much as looked in their direction – they were always afraid she was checking them out or was going to grab something. So, she kept her distance when she saw a pretty girl but Imogen was far from going unnoticed by the Hufflepuff. “You don’t know?” Mica flipped her thumb in the direction of the door and the wind which was howling behind it. “I think we might be in for another ice age. I thought I would crash in here for a bit. Is that smashing with you?” She asked her permission out of politeness but really was not willing to go outside quite yet unless the other girl had a very good reason as to why she should. She was now positive she had heard Imogen talking to a horse as she came in here. At first she assumed it was the wind but with the feeling something was going on and then her actually showing up, she had definitely been talking to the horse. Michaela was feeling somewhat unused lately as the friend people could go and talk to, so it was no surprise that she was actually kind of wanting someone to vent to her. She pulled herself up so that she was sitting on top of the empty stable door opposite from Imogen’s horse. “And why are you in here, were you looking for some peace and quiet?” She felt a moment of guilt for interrupting it. “I’m Michaela. I thought I’d tell you so you wouldn’t have to ask. I hate that awkward moment when you can’t remember someone’s name, don’t you? And you are Imogen.” She gave her a little friendly wink. I come in peace.

[Imogen Sauveterre]

It would have been a lie for Imogen to say she wasn’t relieved to see it was just Michaela Petrova. They had classes together sometimes and as far as Imogen knew, she was relatively harmless. It was weird to see her at the stables, though. She wasn’t in the Riding Club, and Imogen hadn’t seen her down at the stables before. Oh, for god’s sake, she had to stop thinking that she basically ruled the place. Just because she and Ian formed the Riding Club and Hagrid let her help with the horses in the evenings sometimes didn’t mean she had a right to tell people who could be in the stables and who couldn’t. The only thing she could fairly say was that maybe she knew the horses better than some people, but she had gone over their histories at length with Hagrid when she was trying to match up horse and rider.

But Mica was harmless enough, Imogen figured. Well, harmless to the horses. She had the potential to be a hazard in Potions, she thought as she recalled the disastrous potion Imogen had tried to help her with several weeks ago. And she wasn’t in here for mischief or anything. Now that she had mentioned the weather, Imogen became very aware of the sound of the wind hitting the stable walls. Imogen shrugged her shoulders and headed toward the stall door. “They’re not my stables,” she replied, unlocking the door and slipping out. “Cold out, huh?” She looked toward one of the windows and saw the snow whistling around outside. Hm. She’d spent the night in the stables once before, after that horrifying incident with Fenrir Greyback (and she still felt guilty for keeping that night a secret, especially since another girl got hurt, but there was more protection up now; the chances of him returning were slim to nil), but it wasn’t nearly this cold back then. If the storm didn’t let up, it was possible they’d have to get horse blankets down and – wait, why was she already thinking of the worst case scenario? The chances of the blizzard lasting longer than a few minutes were low, so the first chance it slowed down, they’d leave. Simple as that.

“… were you looking for some peace and quiet?” Imogen glanced at Mica for a moment, then shrugged. It was accurate enough, she supposed. She did come out here to relax and take her mind off things. “Don’t worry about it.” Moving away from Willow’s stall, Imogen went over to the straw she’d tossed her outerwear on and sat down on her coat. A particularly strong blast of wind seemed to unsettle some of the horses, especially Piper, who tossed her head and snorted, but they calmed down after a few moments and Imogen remained seated. “Come sit,” she said to Mica, motioning toward the bales. “They’re not too uncomfortable. Just make sure there’s nothing sticking up in the wrong spot.”

Imogen didn’t know much about Mica. Even though they were in the same year and had several classes together, their only real interaction – that she could recall – was in Potions several weeks ago. And Mica wasn’t one of the people Imogen liked to observe from a distance, either, because she seemed too… plucky… for Imogen’s taste. Haha, okay, maybe it was a problem when Imogen only liked to watch people who were in some sort of trouble, but she did have a desire to help people, even strangers. And she knew it was because of the boy she’d known a few years ago, and her refusal to help him when he asked leading to his death, so she knew that her reasons for wanting to help others were completely irrational and potentially dangerous. Case in point: the Rosiers. Thank god they were leaving her alone now that their Hogsmeade spook tactics were over (or maybe it was more accurate to say that she was leaving them alone). It was… weird. She could be completely selfless for someone, even a stranger, but her reasons for doing so were incredibly selfish. It was all about redeeming herself and earning her own forgiveness for what she’d done, and she’d yet to do something worthy of that.

But she’d gone off-track. She’d been trying to remember what she knew about Mica. Her name was Michaela Petrova, she was a fifth-year Hufflepuff, and she was ghastly at Potions. Or, well, that one Potion. She remembered who Imogen was, so either Imogen had made some sort of impression or she just had a good memory. She didn’t seem to be aware that being in here alone was breaking a rule, but then again, maybe she’d never meant to come in here in the first place until the storm hit. Except the stable was pretty far onto the grounds, and in this sort of weather, why else would someone come out here? Unless she’d been heading to Hagrid’s hut, though Imogen didn’t know why anyone would do that either. So had Mica really been out for a walk and got stranded here? Eh, Imogen didn’t know. And it wasn’t exactly a Holmesian mystery, so she would just have to try to let it go. Judging from how she’d answered Imogen, Mica seemed pretty comfortable around people. Or maybe she was more comfortable with one-on-one confrontations. Okay, now she really had to stop thinking about it.

“I know who you are,” Imogen said with a nod. “We had Potions together. Yours… didn’t exactly go as planned. And you signed your notes ‘Mica’.” As she said it, she recalled Mica mentioning that she had a twin, but she kept that part to herself. She didn’t want to look creepy, after all.

“So… do you ride?”

[Michaela Petrova]

What did you possibly expect under this condition

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She couldn’t shake the feeling that she may not have been particularly welcome in the stables with a bunch of horses and said girl, after all. It mattered not she supposed, since Mica was not intent on going outside until the snow let up from at least the level of a blizzard to a reasonable snow fall. Truth be told, Michaela’s intentions for walking around the school grounds relatively far away from the school were, in reality, as boring as they sounded. Her fingers needed a rest from their vigorous playing and it gave her mind the opportunity to dwell on other things, like Vanessa’s oddly distant behavior at the moment or what she was planning to do on Valentine’s Day. Try as she might not to sweat the small stuff, Mica worried about every trivial matter along with the big complexities. It was due in part to her ability to sense when there was something wrong with another person. Crossing her dangling legs so they would not fall asleep so easily, she smiled pleasantly at the other girl. Imogen had evidently warmed quickly inside the stable – her tossed aside jacket was a testament to that. Michaela had really expected more people to be harbored inside of the stables right now looking after the horses. Animals reacted so poorly to bad weather conditions, and with the plethora of animal lovers in the school she just expected…more.

“I know that. But you do pay a lot of attention to its upkeep, don’t you?” Not that she really wanted to come across as knowing too much about the Ravenclaw, but it was rather public knowledge that Imogen was in charge of the riding club and that she took it fairly seriously. “Awful out. Let’s hope it lasts only a short while. I have a Transfiguration class in a half hour that’s calling my name.” Like normal teenagers, Mica wasn’t overly excited about going to class but when you didn’t show up you lost participation points that she sorely needed to achieve a good grade. How was she to explain to her teacher that she got caught in the storm because she liked to take long walks? Like he was going to believe that - a student really wanting to get fresh air these days. One of the horses whinnied and tossed its head in reaction to the howling wind, causing Mica to shrink a tad. When animals made sudden movements it got her nerves going. They were just so unpredictable right? She found solace because the horse was not only a distance from herself but it was behind the security of a stall door. If this seemed odd, you need to remember that Michaela didn’t grow up in the countryside, and her access to animals larger than a small dog was incredibly limited. Factor that in with her disciplined music study and it’s not like spending time at the farm had made it very far on her to-do list.

She hopped off the empty stall door and took a seat beside Imogen, first making sure that nothing was going to skewer her. Laughing a little, she replied “I definitely don’t have a trip to the Hospital Wing in mind for today because I accidentally sat on something sharp.” Who really wanted a hole in their butt. Sitting on a bale of hay was a new experience for her. “Right,” she grimaced, recalling the memory of her potions gone bad. The instructions were so poor to begin with, but she knew she couldn’t entirely blame the disaster on the textbook, but her own level of skill had also been to blame. It wasn’t like she was the only one who had made a useless potion and that was consoling. “But, thanks to you, my potion also didn’t blow anyone up. I can’t say the same for poor Marcus and Cordelia.” Marcus was a Hufflepuff in Michaela’s year whose potion exploded from its pot like a volcano and the unfortunate Ravenclaw who was rained upon was Cordelia. Who knows what her potion would have done if Imogen hadn’t at least given her some tips, whether or not it recovered in the end. While her potion couldn’t be easily explained, her signature could. “I go by Mica sometimes, or Kayla. My name is a mouthful otherwise.” Did she ride?

Oh god, no. “I ride a broom,” she offered with a chuckle. “I’ve never been on a horse in my life. Not that I’ve never wanted to, I’ve only been preoccupied with other things.” Horses were quite cute and all but music came first. It always came first, even when she’d prefer her social life to. “I bet you on the other hand are a fantastic rider. Am I right?” Imogen had that certain air about her. Some people had a way with animals, kind of like a light and animals just liked them. “Hey, so… You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, I’m absolutely content sitting here and making small chat until the storm passes, but…are you okay? I don’t know what it is but you look like you might be the slightest bit down.” The first sign was that she was talking to a horse when Michaela came in. In her world, that wasn’t exactly normal. Mica would actually like if someone talked to her about their problems instead of the usual outcome lately, which was the ignore and deflect method. She wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Imogen chose this, as she didn’t come across as completely open? Was that the term she was looking for? Anyway, it didn’t matter. It’s simply that Michaela wasn’t overly skilled at making small chat.

[Imogen Sauveterre]

For a moment, Imogen frowned and looked toward the horses slightly guiltily. Yeah, she was responsible for a lot of its upkeep, but that was because she’d sort-of forced herself into this position. There were plenty of people at Hogwarts, who actually owned horses, who could do a better job of looking after the stables than she could. Hagrid, technically, was in charge of everything to do with the animals and grounds, so he had the final say, but he’d pretty much given Imogen free reign with the horses. And they weren’t her horses. She felt another stab of guilt at the fact that she rode Willow, one of the youngest horses there. She was definitely a horse for a more advanced rider, but who the hell decided Imogen was advanced enough for her? She didn’t even take riding lessons anymore; Florence stopped taking her when she was thirteen, and then the last time she’d ridden a horse was at Ian’s in the summer. It was selfish of her to barge into these stables and declare herself as boss when she hadn’t even earned a single damn right to it.

Maybe she should quit. She didn’t want to, but maybe it was the right thing to do. Maybe she should hand her half of the Riding Club over to Tori, since she owned horses, and let her and Ian run it. And then leave the club itself and let someone better ride Willow. Then she could just… come down the occasional weekend to ride Piper or someone more suited for her. She had a lot of ego when it came to the horses, she realised, and it wasn’t a good thing. In fact, it was pretty disgusting. No wonder people thought she was a stuck-up and arrogant bitch; she kind-of was.

“Some,” she finally mumbled, then winced slightly as another rattle shook the walls. One of the horses snorted, but otherwise they were calm. “I don’t think storms like this last very long,” she said, hoping she was being reassuring. “You should make it to your class.” As for herself, she had Ancient Runes next, and she’d be damned if she was going to miss that. Hell, Imogen would walk out in the blizzard if she had to. It wasn’t that far to the castle. She was sure she could tough it out, even if Mica didn’t think she could. Or maybe Imogen was just being egotistical again. Florence had always said to never let compliments or even good thoughts about yourself fill your head with hot air, because no one likes that. Imogen certainly didn’t.

She chuckled slightly at Mica’s joke as the girl sat next to her. Madam Pomfrey had probably seen stranger things in her day than straw poking someone’s backside, but Imogen wasn’t letting her mind go there. She’d probably be sick all over the floor. She winced and laughed at the memory of the cauldron that had exploded. Slughorn had been beside himself with worry, especially when Cordelia started to turn a nasty greenish-yellow. He’d sent her and Marcus to the hospital wing immediately, and another Hufflepuff boy had gone with them to make sure they got there okay. He hadn’t come back to class either, so Imogen had a sneaking suspicion he’d used them as an excuse to skip. But she held her tongue, and Slughorn hadn’t really noticed a thing. “You got close, I think,” Imogen encouraged. “I mean, I think where you went wrong was the stirring part. Potions is just like cooking, really. Do you cook?” Imogen couldn’t understand how people got so worked up over Potions. It was just like any other class, and it was probably more fun than a lot of them, too. It was all about science and chemistry, which Imogen loved, so it was easy for her to grasp the concept of elements – or in this case, ingredients – that did or did not mix well together. For example, lacewing flies never mixed well with guano and often ended in an explosion, but the flies mixed with salamander spleen produced a surprisingly pleasant scent.

“I like ‘Mica’. It’s unique. It says more about your character than ‘Kayla’, I think.” She laughed a little and shook her head. “I mean, I could be wrong. I don’t really know you, so don’t take my word for it.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Mica if she wanted to try riding someday, but then the girl went on and said that Imogen was probably a fantastic rider, and she didn’t know how to respond. She felt her cheeks go red with embarrassment and she turned her gaze away again with a small shrug. She wasn’t… fantastic, by any means. “More like decent, really,” she muttered, not really wanting to pursue the matter. She didn’t know if Mica heard her anyway, since the next thing she knew, she was asking if she was okay. Imogen looked up at her in surprise, blinking rapidly as her brows furrowed, and she nodded automatically. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “Just came out here for a bit of R & R before the next class, you know? Didn’t count on the blizzard, though. That’s a fun surprise,” she finished drily. “Sorry if I just… seem off, or something. Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night; I have a test in Ancient Runes, so I was studying. I’m just tired, that’s all.” She picked at some hay that had clung to her jeans.

Maybe she should change the subject and put the focus on Mica. Smiling, Imogen looked back at her inquisitively. “So what do you do for fun around here, Mica?”

[Michaela Petrova]

She looked so sad in photographs; I absolutely love her when she smiles.

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I suppose Mica could tough it out, the blizzard I mean, but she really didn’t want to. She might get lost and end up walking straight through the Forbidden Forest. What’s worse, she could run into the side of the castle and injure herself. It wasn’t accurate to say that Michaela was particularly clumsy, but when you can’t see anything who knows what will happen? Attending class today wasn’t overly important, in the grand scheme of it all. Michaela was rapidly beginning to pity the horses in the stable even though they were entirely safe. It was near impossible to hear what was going on outside when you were in the castle because of the several inches sick castle wall, but the whistling of the wind from inside the stables was fairly loud. From time to time you wanted the ability to pretend it was sunny outside even when it wasn’t. If Mica could only hear half of the things that Imogen was thinking, deploring herself, she would feel more sorry for her than for the horses. She attempted not to feel sorry for people, no one really wanted to be pitied, but it could not always be helped. It was all well and good for her, really, because when she was busy feeling sorry for someone else she couldn’t be sorry for herself. There were a few issues troublesome for Michaela right now that were more of an annoyance than a serious predicament, but it would be nice not to think about them at all. Mica looked around the stable and imagined all that she could do for it to make it more…comfortable. There could be a bit more magical lighting and some color, for god’s sake. Fortunately, the animals were very well cared for a seemed perfectly happy, but Michaela was usually looking for things to improve. She was really a perfectionist at heart.

“I’m sure I will. If not – it’s not such a great loss. I’m not positively enthused at the idea of Transfiguration at the moment. I would rather be enjoying myself.” It’s not certain if Michaela could find more enjoyment out of being trapped in a stable with a girl she didn’t know very well, but it was possible. Imogen wasn’t rude or overbearing, and neither was she incredibly shy or nervous. She had helped her in potions class and really was well rounded. Mica looked amused when Imogen asked if she cooked – this definitely had a story behind it. “I’m…okay, but my dad is the real chef. My preparation for meal time usually involves me bewitching the silverware to set themselves at the table. My mum and I are usually too entangled in music notes in the attic to properly cook. I can but it’s not…great.” Her world did not involve fancy potions or precise ingredients. She did wanted sounded or felt right, and by and large it worked out well for her. “Thanks, I like it best “Mica” too. I’m not so much a fan when my friends get cheek and call me “Mickie.” I feel like I’m ready to sprout big ears and a tail. Imogen’s a special name, it’s really artistic, somehow.” She shrugged with a laugh, not sure how to put it in words what she was attempting to say. “I don’t know, I just think of someone who sits in a quiet place with a cup of coffee and stews over the meaning of life while painting a priceless masterpiece. It brings that image to my mind, for whatever reason.” A lot of things inspired an image in her head, probably because she was an artistic herself. She saw things for more than they were on their surface and put images and music to it. In any case, she hoped that didn’t come across to Imogen that Mica thought of her as a brooding girl who sat around drinking coffee all the time.

There would need to be a few things Mica remembered next time when she thought about what Imogen might want to talk about. Her expertise with horses wasn’t to be continued, and maybe not her personal life, either. She must has spent too much time with Hufflepuffs and forgot that not everyone wanted to have sharing time. With a hufflepuff, it was almost considered rude if you didn’t offer up a chance for sharing time, which they almost always took advantage of when presented. Ravenclaws were smart and clever, but not necessarily touchy-feely. Of course. The main problem Imogen and Michaela were going to have is that they both liked the other person to be the subject of conversation. “That’s okay I completely understand. My roommates like to stay up and talk really late sometimes so I get the lethargy feeling. Even when I’m lying down with my eyes closed it’s hard not to listen to what they’re saying. I’m sure you don’t need me grilling you either.” No pressing, no pressing a stranger, she needed to remind herself. The truth was, Mica was just the slightest bit nosy and it wasn’t natural for her to not be curious. It’s why she always felt terrible about listening to Rita Skeeter gossip but she never ceased to listen anyway. “I….” a sheepish smile came on her face as she shifted on the hay pile. She tucked her hands underneath her legs, a good method for warming them. “I practice playing the piano a lot. When I actually do something else hmm…..well, I cheerlead for the Hufflepuff team, and….and…” Now Mica laughed out loud, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Oh I sound like the most boring person in the world right now! It’s just that I don’t usually make a lot of time for myself, or I let my friends choose. So, I go shopping sometimes with them in Hogsmeade which is fun when they have new items in stock. No wait, I thought of something. I like to make candles. Candles as in the scented ones with special little designs on them. Perfume, too. It’s a hobby of mine, they’re good to give away as gifts and what not. Sometimes I make jewelry. I could teach you sometime if you wanted.”

[Imogen Sauveterre]

In a word, Mica was nice. She was a genuinely nice girl, from what Imogen knew of her. So really, she had to count herself lucky that Mica was the one to find her in the stables, and not some snitch or… like… Skye Reginald. Mica had seemed sincerely concerned about her, but Imogen hoped she steered her away from that. She had to smile a bit when Mica mentioned that she wouldn’t mind missing Transfiguration; Imogen had always found the subject fun, and Professor McGonagall didn’t seem to mind her too much. Then again, Imogen always practiced the spells, read up on the material, and never received less than an E on her assignments – and had yet to get lower than an O on one this year – and wasn’t a snarky smart-arse with her. McGonagall was one of her favourite professors, if she was to be honest. She was actually rather witty, but few people seemed to notice it because of how intimidated they were of her. She was more than a bit clever, and probably could have made a fair Ravenclaw if the Sorting Hat chose differently.

Mica was a piano player, as she’d noted a few times during their conversation. Imogen tried to have a ‘to each their own’ attitude about hobbies, but piano was something she couldn’t wrap her mind around. Not anymore, anyway. In fact, she tended to avoid piano music if she could. Yeah, it was immature of her and too personal, but whatever got her through the day, got her through the day.

Imogen had to laugh a little when Mica said her name sounded ‘artistic’. She was no painter, nor did she like coffee. Mica was clearly the creative one. “I don’t think I have an artistic bone in my body,” she admitted. The artsy subjects were the ones she’d never done well in when she attended Muggle primary school. She still remembered getting a C on a drawing and going home in tears. Imogen never coloured outside the lines, but her teacher encouraged it. She always made things the right colour, and never understood how her teacher could praise a student who coloured a cow purple or the sky orange when it wasn’t sunset. And band and choir were absolutely horrible. Imogen couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, nor could she wrap her head around ‘eight count beats’ or whatever. She didn’t understand music notes (what the hell was a treble cleft or whatever it was called?) or how someone could feel the rhythm. Well, more power to whoever could, she figured, but she certainly wasn’t one of them. “I think you win for creativity.”

“Maybe you should try the Imperturbable Charm,” she suggested when Mica mentioned difficulty falling asleep. “If you draw the curtains all around your bed and put the charm up, it should block out sound going in or out. I… don’t know the incantation, but my brother told me about it. I think we learn it later this year, but I don’t think Flitwick will mind if you ask him yourself.” She kicked at a bit of straw at her feet. Mica was telling her about her hobbies, and Imogen smiled at her reassuringly. She didn’t sound boring at all, really. There was nothing wrong with cheerleading – Vivi was one – or shopping, if you liked to shop. And candle-making was definitely a new one, and Imogen raised her eyebrows in interest. “Candles, really? That’s really cool. I mean, the perfume is, too, but I don’t really… you know, wear it. But I’ll definitely try the candle-making sometime, if that’s all right.” Sure, it was a bit on the artsy side, but Imogen figured there had to be a certain chemistry to it, too. Mixing scents could be lovely or disastrous, depending on the ingredient – just like Potions. “And the jewellery too, maybe. I mean, I don’t wear any, but some of my friends do.” She smiled, a bit bigger than before as her spirits had lifted a little since conversation began. “You’re really not boring at all, you know. You’re cool. I think, anyway. Haha, you know, you could probably open up your own little business with your candles and perfume. There are tons of students who can’t go to Hogsmeade to get gifts for their friends and family. I bet they’d love to buy stuff off you.”

The horses had quieted down, and Imogen listened for the sound of wind outside. It was still there, though didn’t seem as strong as before. She stood off the hay bale and approached the door, opening it just a crack to peek outside. It was still snowing pretty heavily, but she could see the lights from the castle through the flakes. “I think if we’re gonna go, we should leave now,” she said to Mica. “It’s slowing down a little bit, but it could pick up again. But you can see the castle, so we shouldn’t get lost on the way and wind up in the Forest or anything.” She closed the door and turned back to her. “What d’you think? Care to brave it?”

[Michaela Petrova]

You never seem to run out of things to say

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Mica was nice. She was a nice Hufflepuff who felt a little concerned about everyone she met – but she was more than nice. The Hufflepuff stereotype didn’t really bother her, taking into account that she fit it well and they were nice things to be said about you. Even so, how many people simply labeled her as a nice girl and then moved on? There was more to her than that, and her family would agree in saying that Michaela wasn’t always such a nice person. When you get to know her, you see all different facets of her personality. People are really a kaleidoscope in human form. Yes, she felt the music in almost everything. She wouldn’t be surprised if her mother had placed a musical charm on her while she was in the womb so that Mica could listen to the vibrations even then. Straight from the horse’s mouth she knew for a fact that has a baby she would fall asleep to the soft, lulling sounds of a piano concerto. Although an attraction to the arts didn’t necessarily destine one to not be interested in academics, it is a bit how she turned out. On the whole, Michaela was a good student. She did alright in Transfiguration and faired best in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Transfiguration…when she would catch the eye of Professor McGonagall, it was only to receive a disapproving, no not even that, a glower we could even say, in return. That was plenty enough to make Michaela inclined to other subjects and not toward Transfiguration. Here she was with Imogen who was very likely quite good in all of her academic classes and probably enjoyed them every bit as much. There were Ravenclaws like Rita just as there were Hufflepuffs like Isabelle but all in all, one could assume with a high accuracy rate that a Ravenclaw liked being in the classroom.

She cocked her head to the side and played with the beads around her neck, sliding them back and forth in between her fingers. Mica smiled humbly when Imogen commented about Michaela’s artistic creativity. “That’s an excellent idea. I don’t want to get angry at them, so you might have a good solution there. I doubt he would mind at all, I think professor Flitwick would be delighted if a student took interest in his subject.” She always had an image in her head of all the professors in Hogwarts gathered in a lounge playing the “my horse is bigger than your horse” game, naming off all the students who had excelled and had curiosity with what they taught. She then imagined it would be quite difficult for Professor Flitwick to even get noticed, unless he levitated himself instead of a feather. He and Hagrid in the same room together would make the worst kind of combination… “I think you would like it with your knack in potions. They create a certain kind of atmosphere, I’ve found.” She shrugged, not knowing how to put her feelings into more accurate words. “Ambiance, maybe. And of course you don’t wear any, you don’t need it,” she said, complimenting Imogen. She gave a little chuckle as the other girl told her how not boring she was. Mica gave a sheepish smile and then stepped closer to Imogen, holding the necklace around her neck out and away from her body so Imogen could look at the beads. “I made this one here. I think getting dressed up and looking cute is one of the joys we get to have before we grow up,” she replied with a little wink. The necklace had a blue feather in the center with translucent pink and white beads around it on a silver chain. There were a couple of charms hanging down between the pairs of beads.

Michaela’s face sparked with a new light. “You think so? I guess I never thought of selling them before. I did have the idea in the back of my mind that it would be neat to have a store one day in a place like Diagon Alley, if I became good enough at the trade.” She toyed with the idea for awhile in her mind, allowing herself to feel a little bit prideful with it and she shifted back and forth on her feet, having stood up from the uncomfortable bale of straw. It didn’t suit her rear end at all. Mica decided she wasn’t just having a passing concern for Imogen – she liked her. This was a doll she could see herself talking with. Mica could see a little beyond Imo in the doorway, and she was right, the snow had let up some. She still felt a bit unsure, but it was after all, only snow. They were not far from the castle and it wasn’t like she was going to get buried underneath a mountain of it within a minute of crossing the stretch between the two buildings. Nodding her head, Mica walked toward the door and picked up her jacket and the same time, putting it back on and zipping up the front. “We’ll live, right?” She teased with a mock look of over anxiousness on her place. Mica placed a hand on the latch of the barn door and linked her other arm with Imogen’s, whether the other girl wanted it there or not. “I suppose I can really only put Transfiguration off for so long, and you…whatever it is that you’re putting off.” There was something there, to be sure, but of course Michaela didn’t know what and it would remain that way. It was nice to take a break from everything even if that had meant she was shut up inside a stall. Providence had given her someone to talk to and for once, she wasn’t playing an imaginary piano with her fingers, dancing through the air when there was most certainly nothing beneath them. You wouldn’t ever understand unless you had devoted yourself so much to something, and then it was all you could take to keep it out of your head for five minutes.

[Imogen Sauveterre]

There were few people, not just in Hogwarts but in general, that Imogen could say she thought she could trust after only a few short words. It wasn’t an instantaneous click, as had happened with her and Ian last year, but Mica seemed like a genuine and open enough person that Imogen could relax her guard around her a bit. It didn’t mean she would tell Mica her secrets, like her picking or her feelings for Benjamin or what happened with Leo, but she didn’t have the feeling that Mica was constantly digging for some nugget of information to use against her either. It took a lot for Imogen to open up to someone and trust them with every side of her, from the brainiac to the quite-possibly-insane. While she wasn’t there with Mica, she didn’t quite distrust her either. It was a weird and wobbly line, but Imogen decided not to focus on it any more than she had. It would just make her head spin and get all wary and tense around Mica again.

She blushed at Mica’s comment about her not needing perfume or jewellery, not really sure how to respond to that. Obviously Mica was just being nice, though Imogen was clean and hygienic enough to know that she didn’t smell bad at all – if anything, she smelled like kiwis, because of her shampoo. “I’ve never really dressed up,” Imogen admitted, and it was true. She could wear dresses, of course. But she hadn’t worn any make-up or jewellery to any event, be it her brother’s wedding or the Yule Ball. Not only did she have no desire to wear any, but even if she did, Imogen couldn’t tell the difference between blush and eye-shadow. She had no idea how to apply anything to “beautify” herself, embarrassing as it was for a fifteen-year-old girl to admit.

Surprised as she was when Mica linked their arms together, Imogen decided not to pull away. She wasn’t a touchy-feely person at all, and had never linked arms with anyone in her life, but she supposed she’d allow it this time for safety reasons. Maybe Mica thought if they kept a hold of each other, they wouldn’t get separated and would wind up at the castle together instead of the Forbidden Forest or something. Imogen glanced at Mica and attempted a reassuring smile. “I have that test in Ancient Runes that I was up studying for,” she said quickly, “But I’ll get you to Transfiguration, don’t worry.” She took out her wand and aimed it at herself, wondering if this would work. It did with rain, but snow was different. “Impervius!” She felt an odd tingle down her spine, hoped that was a good thing, and stepped out into the snow.

ooc: if you want to finish it off that'd be great :)

[Michaela Petrova]

You never seem to run out of things to say

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While she hadn’t a clue what Imogen was going through, Mica could perceive that she was just the kind of girl who could handle almost anything that came her way. She liked that about her almost instantly. Michaela was very sympathetic to another’s plight but she enjoyed people even more who didn’t need another to solve it. It was like being around that type of a person reminded her to always stay strong herself when facing trials. She hadn’t really seen Imogen all done up before and it was no surprise to her that she never was. Natural really was beautiful, especially if you were confident about it. Mica enjoyed playing with different colors on her face and using a lot of pop here and there, but just the same, she could go an entire day without makeup and feel comfortable in her skin. She definitely didn’t like when other girls tried to do her makeup, they always put foundation on her that made her look like a ghost. “Right. Good luck with your test. At least when it’s over, if nothing else, it’s over.” With Imogen’s spell cast, they walked much more easily to the Hogwarts castle. The snow was nothing to be concerned with now that it had lifted from its heavy downpour, and you’d hardly know it was snowing at all with the magic surrounding them, had it not been for the snow settled on the ground as evidence. When they had successfully arrived, safe and sound inside the Hall, Michaela let go of Imogen’s arm and turned to her with a familiar smile. “While I’m sorry that you might be late to class, it was nice to have a little chit chat with you. I’ll save you a seat in Potions tomorrow so I can tell you more about candles. That is, if I survive Transfiguration and don’t get turned into a goblet.” Mica made a teasingly dramatic gesture and went on her way, dragging her feet if ever so slightly on her way to class. Oh Transfiguration, what horrors do you have in store?

T H E E N D!