★ o b s e s s i o n ★

[Serena Lovelace]

SO HERE'S MY
c o n f e s s i o n

Serena wasn’t obsessed. She was just… well, she adulated people a little excessively, is all. So she had a large portion of her personal photo album dedicated to a bunch of girls she either hardly knew or had never met. What was the big deal in that? Honestly, there was nothing wrong in it. Just a little harmless worship admiration is all it was. She had a lot to learn from Victoria and Genevieve and Anastasia and Rita and Andromeda and Narcissa and Caoimhe. Yes, especially Caoimhe, at present, seeing as she was to join her imminently as a fellow Chaser for the Slytherin Quidditch team there at their very own school, upon her mother’s insistence. Seeing as Serena hadn’t had absolutely the faintest idea that cheerleading was in fact a muggle-invented sport, she’d of course joined the team in order to follow in the footsteps of some of her greatest role models, like Rita Skeeter and Anya Petrova. But then it became soon clear to her that they were merely doing this as a gesture toward the superiority of the wizarding races, seeing as witches could cheer far better than muggles could. It was a noble calling, to be sure, but it was one that Serena was not apt to take upon herself. Well, she might’ve stayed if it hadn’t been for her mother writing her that furious owl that positively forbade her from participating in it. But she was never one to go against her mother’s wishes and so she remained vigilant and withdrew herself from the cheerleading team, only to try out for the Quidditch team a week later (after copious amounts of practice, of course). At the time, they were looking to fill a Chaser and a Keeper position, and following much deliberation on the subject Serena decided that given her weight and height she would be better suited for a position that required more fast movements and speed rather than brute force. Therefore, Chaser it was. And who was the best Chaser that Serena had ever seen? Well, Caoimhe Moran, of course! So, who better to ask for advice from than her? No one, of course! Besides, Serena didn’t have the contact information of any of the players on the Holyhead Harpies team, and besides, even if she did, she assumed it would just be directed to fanmail and be treated as such––a.k.a., with no response but the usual ‘Thanks for your support!’ junk. And that was clearly not worth Serena’s valuable time. But Caoimhe, well, she was quite a few years older than Serena but still easily accessible, given that they were both in Slytherin and Serena had admired her for quite some time and consequently knew a few things about her. Not too much, of course, beyond that which was reasonable for her to know, but enough to where she could easily predict where Caoimhe might be at this hour according to the copy of her schedule that Serena had ascertained (she had a copy of everyone’s schedules who was in her Book of Perfect People, just so she knew exactly what classes and extracurriculars all her idols were taking so that she might be able to take the same when she got old enough. Indeed, she had the lot of them cut out and glued into a few pages of her scrapbook, which sat out on her lap at present for her perusal.

She ran her finger along the times and classes that Caoimhe was taking until she stopped at five thirty five, which was the current time: free period. Oh, she should have known that! Sighing, Serena shook her head and closed the book, stowing it under her pillow along with her diary (she hides things there because she feels that it is such a classic place for young girls to hide things and a) she likes the clichéd romance of it and b) figures that if anyone were every trying to snoop around in her room and make any devious discoveries, one of the last places they’d give credence to looking at would be under her pillow, since it’s such an obvious place to look and the really smart deviants of course would know that checking there would only be a waste of time). She hadn’t fully memorized all their schedules yet, like she had last year, but she had at least tried to commit to memory all their free periods so that she could chance upon meeting them in a seeming coincidence whenever she had the time to spare. She couldn’t believe she forgot Caoimhe’s was around now! Well, it only lasted for about another hour, so Serena decided that she had better hurry up if she wanted to entertain at least a halfway decent conversation with the girl––and she had to factor in the possibility that, during her free time, Caoimhe could be in one of three places and depending on Serena’s luck it might take her a few minutes to discover just which one of the three it is today. She was usually in the library, her dormitory, or the great hall. Usually with Aiden Neeson or any other members of the Quidditch team. And on Wednesdays, Serena noted she actually wore her hair up in a ponytail more often than she did any other day of the week, perhaps because Wednesday was the notorious ‘hump’ day and she was both resting up from her previous two Quidditch practices and then at the same time preparing for the three more she had left to do. Either way, Serena concluded that it would be most time-efficient for her to search the dormitory first, then the library, then the Great Hall. And if she wasn’t in any of those three places… well, she would either be engaging in particularly naughty behavior in the Slytherin boy’s dormitory (which only furthered Vivi’s point, by the by, that ladies were in fact very sexual beings, Serena dubiously noted) or perhaps arriving early to practice down at the pitch. She certainly hoped Caoimhe wasn’t at the pitch today, though, seeing as it was absolutely frigid outside and Serena had no intention of trudging out in the sleety afternoon, even for a bit of advice for being a new member of the team. She’d always hated the cold, even though the flush it brought to her cheeks was particularly lovely. She hated the heat, too, though, so it seemed there was no pleasing her, except in the fall and spring. All the best fashions were released in those seasons, and everyone knew that.

At any rate, Serena had to get moving. She stood from her bed and smoothed over her cute wintery outfit, feeling all snug and warm inside the safe walls of the castle. Her striped sweater was a bit big but it was woven by her mother and smelled like her mother, too, so she often wore it to bed when she was feeling homesick and it made her feel better. Her jeans were a bit loose but in a stylish sort of way, she thought, and they were cuffed toward the bottom so that her cute little flats could show. All in all, Serena was quite pleased with her outfit together, despite the fact that she had gotten rather lazy and decided to let her hair wave itself naturally today, again. Well, for one, it looked cute, and for another, she was going to need to get some new straightening potions shipped in from her mother soon because she was almost about to run out of her first one. She pushed a few blond strands behind her ears to reveal her shiny diamond studs and paraded out of her dormitory. She put a finger to her lips after she shut the door and counted one, two, three, four… four or five doors down was Caoimhe’s dormitory? Oh, for Circe’s sake, she couldn’t remember! How embarrassing! How completely balmy of her! Four or five, four or five… she sighed and took a few steps forward until she reached the fourth door. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten! It was unbelievable! She’d mapped out a floorplan of all the girl’s dormitories the second she unpacked after the Great Feast, just like she did every year so she could know exactly who was where and with whom and when she might drop in to chat! Oh, bugger. Well, she might be able to cut herself some slack, she mused, albeit angrily with herself, seeing as she hadn’t really been visiting that many dormitories lately. Rolling her eyes in spite of the justification she just made for her error, Serena leaned her head forward slightly and pressed her ear against the door. She closed her eyes so as to focus better and waited to hear any kind of indication as to who was currently in the room. She waited. And waited. And waited. And… nothing. It was totally silent! Well, maybe if there was no one there, it wouldn’t hurt to poke in and see who’s belongings were there, because then she could determine if Caoimhe was either in that particular room or not, and if she was and her things were there but she was not there, then Serena would know to look elsewhere. Well. Okay. …she really hoped she wouldn’t get in trouble for breaking and––well, just entering––were there rules about that at Hogwarts? She’d read the rulebooks a few times over (every summer before school started up again, to be precise) but she couldn’t remember anything about going into anyone else’s dormitory without their permission… huh. Well. Here goes. She opened her eyes and held her breath and gently opened the door, poking her head in like a startled squirrel through the crevice. “Hello?” she whispered, making one final check before sliding the door open further and stepping in with her whole body. Phew. Empty, just as she thought. She quietly closed the door behind her and tiptoed––though why she was tiptoeing she didn’t have the faintest––over to the first bed she saw, eyeing it harshly for the rather promiscuous underwear that lay atop it. No, that was definitely not Caoimhe’s bed. She had better taste than that. Serena wrinkled her nose and continued to survey the beds when at last she came to the furthest one and saw Caoimhe’s Quidditch uniform lying out on the bed. Ah, success!

Well, Caoimhe definitely wasn’t here, then, so that left the Great Hall and the library, and if not there the Pitch or the unspeakable boy’s dormitories, she thought with a small shudder. Serena was about to turn around and leave to continue her search, but she found herself far too entranced by Caoimhe’s uniform to do so. She hadn’t gotten her uniform yet, seeing as they had to order one her size and that wouldn’t be ready for a day or two still, and she’d never really seen one so… up and personal. She wondered how it felt. She darted her eyes back to the door to ensure it was still closed and then leaned forward a little and rested her palm on the uniform, tracing it seams with her fingers all the way down the legs and then up the chest. She tried to imagine herself in it, and smiled fondly, picturing herself swaying around in it quite beautifully up in the air and scoring goals and everyone cheering for her and screaming her name… maybe, someday, she would be a little girl’s idol! The very thought made her stomach turn with longing. She wanted that ever so badly. And, oh––oh, but Caoimhe’s hands were slender! Serena couldn’t help but notice that as she regarded the gloves next to the uniform. Why, they were so graceful and beautiful… she wondered if her fingers would fit into them. She glanced again at the door and then turned over the glove, admiring it briefly before she wriggled her hand into it and made a fist, feeling the leather on her palm. What a wonderful feeling this was! Such nicely made gloves! It really was only the best for Hogwarts students, wasn’t it? She smiled, turning her hand over and drinking in the sight of it. She turned her body around slightly and pretended as if she were on a broomstick, extending her arm out as far as it could go and swinging around a Quaffle––in fact, she could almost hear the cheers of her fans as she scored a goal… it was so inspiring, it was magnificent, it was fantastic, it was astounding, it was––!

Bollocks!

It was then that Serena’s little vision came crashing down around her and before she knew it she was tripping over herself to peel the glove off and stick it back on the bed and stumble over to the door because Caoimhe as in Caoimhe Moran as in the girl whose glove she was wearing and prancing around with like a fool had just walked in and oh, oh Merlin she hadn’t even heard the door open and she was so totally humiliated! What ever could she say? Oh, this was terrible, just wretched! “This––this isn’t want it looks like,” she stammered uncertainly, a wave of nausea rushing over her. “I’m very sorry Miss Moran, I merely came to ask for some advice but I was acting terribly foolish and if you’ll just excuse me I’ll be going now, good day.” Her face bloomed with heated redness as she attempted to scoot past Caoimhe and get through the door. But Caoimhe was blocking the door and she was so tall and Serena couldn’t get past and––and––oh, this was the most awful thing ever! She couldn’t even look at Caoimhe, rather she kept her eyes locked on her feet and began to nervously chew on her bottom lip, waiting for the girl to let her pass and suffer in peace.

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caoimhe moran

[caoimhemoran]

she's the salt of the earth -- and she's dangerous

Jealousy. That was Caoimhe’s primary emotion of the moment. Very severe, green-eyed monster style jealousy. The borrowed school owl was slowly disappearing into the grey distance, obscured as the girl’s breath momentarily fogged her vision with each quiet exhale. The urge to leave the owlery hadn’t quite hit her yet as she leaned quietly on her elbows against a glassless, stone windowsill. Her letter currently strapped to the brown owl’s leg was flapping its way to her brother who was currently in Germany and who was currently being a gigantic prat because he was a quidditch tournament that she, Caoimhe, the real quidditch fan of the family (well… ignoring Eimear who technically worked for the Departmant of Magical Sports), was not at. Kael had written her this morning to tell her how spectacular the last few matches of the European cup he had seen were. How daring some of the feats of Caoimhe’s favorite players were and, most infuriatingly, how many recruiters must be there at this very moment snatching up ill used talent. Merlin, if she could only be there… not that they would see her fly, but to use her connections to get into the press conferences with the players, to get into the galas where she could meet the coaches, to kiss as much quidditch ass as possible so that a recruiter would come here, to Hogwarts, to tell her of course you could play for you favorite team ever and then go on to play for Ireland and win the Quidditch World Cup every time you play in it!

A rough growl of annoyance echoed in the back of her throat as her cold fingers curled into tense fists. No. She needed to relax, to breathe. Caoimhe closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. Her time would come. After all, this was only the start of her seventh year, the very beginning and after this past summer’s training that she had done, a recruiter would be a fool not to take her. This Irish girl was worth the top spot on the best team there was and that was a fact. Her stomach tensed slightly as the grey washed view in front of her disappeared and she saw herself on a broom, speeding through the air as her black Montrose robes wiped out behind her. Yeah, that would be an ideal team. She’d been following them for as long as she could remember. Granted, Kenmare would be good too, she’d be playing for her country’s team after all, but… shit, if she could play for Montrose, that would be something. That would also get her on the national team because who wouldn’t want to take the best players from one of the best teams?

Caoimhe’s lips curled into a smirk as images of Hollyhead players flew in her mind’s eye. To that team, no matter if they recruited her, she’d say a very firm, very absolute hell no. The idea of an all women’s team was endearing and all good for female empowerment and securing the presence of women in the quidditch world, sure, but her own teammates, majority female, drove her up the God forsaken wall with how the acted. The pitch was no place to act like a fucking girl, it was a place to play as rough as possible, to get dirty, to get mean, and to fight harder than any man could even imagine doing. An all girl’s team just didn’t give that sort of atmosphere, even if all those women could take on every man that played against them. Caoimhe played better when surrounded by men since she played to prove herself. She played to outsmart, out-fly, and out-man them. With women (the smirk grew some more as she pushed herself off the windowsill), well, she was already the best, where was the challenge? Hell, she was better than most of the men she played with too, but that was beside the point. With a final sigh, Caoimhe turned from her view and made her way across the bone strewn floor back to the door. She’d get that dream one day. For now, though, she had to play the best as she physically could on her house team to show everyone she was worth recruiting.

Gently tugging apart errant curls and putting them into place, Caoimhe made her way through the castle and back to her dorm. Her normal expression of calm hauteur was back in place as the stone wall opened to reveal her common room and any previous jealousy with her brother had been shoved back under the surface. In other words, she looked normal and perfect. That sense of entitled calm, however, flickered as she pushed open her door only to find a petite, blonde girl wearing her glove and standing over her bed. Well, well… this was an unusual sight. She raised an eyebrow as she leaned casually against the door frame. She looked familiar… she was a couple years below Caoimhe, pureblood definitely. Caoimhe was fairly certain that she was a Lovelace. As the girl started stuttering and trying to yank her glove off, that embarrassed look jarred a memory, or memories, of this same girl making that same face when Caoimhe and her happened to make eye contact. Huh, odd kid. “Not what it looks like, hm?”

[/color] She brought her arm down as the girl tried to hurry past her, blocking the doorway. Tilting her head slightly with the beginnings of a crooked sort of smirk, the Irish girl went on in a light tone, “Since it sort of looks like you were trying on my flying gloves… wait—did you just call me Miss Moran?” Ugh, she was a very thoroughly raised pureblood girl. Shaking her head slightly, Caoimhe dropped her arm and spun the girl around, leading her back into the bedroom. “You said you came here for some advice, so there’s no point in running off and wasting such a good opportunity, now is there?”[/color] Christ, this was too amusing. She could feel the girl practically hyperventilating under her arm and that was if you ignored the waves of mortified heat radiating off her. Caoimhe could barely remember the last time she had run into someone with such a strong penchant for manners and social etiquette.

She dropped her arm from the girl’s shoulders as they reached Caoimhe’s bed. “Now…”[/color] The red head said as she sat calmly on the edge of her bed, one leg crossing over the other as she leaned onto one elbow, hand resting on her cheek. “You’re the Lovelace girl, yeah?”[/color] Her pale eyes moved up and down the younger one’s form, taking her in. “I wasn’t aware that you were suffering from such financially hard times that you couldn’t afford your own gloves, Miss Lovelace.”[/color] She paused for a second, watching the emotion flash across the younger girl’s face. She had to stifle a laugh. Waving a hand airily, she said with what she hoped was a bit kinder of a smile since clearly severe embarrassment ran in this one’s genes, “I’m kidding. I have three older siblings and I’d sneak into their rooms and do the same thing growing up.”[/color] At least she hoped that was what this child was trying to do. If that was her attempt at theft, then she really needed to practice her technique. Pushing herself up off the bed to give the girl some time to compose herself, Caoimhe turned her back to her and started folding her quidditch robes, smoothing the bed beneath them as she did so. “So what do I owe the pleasure of this visit to?”[/color]

(OMG I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO REPLY TO BUT HERE IT IS!)

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