pen's in my hand, ending unplanned [Jimmie]

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

September 2025

His last year of Hogwarts. For some seventh years, it was an exciting thought – they already had their whole future figured out, and it was just about getting there. Even if they didn’t have an exact sense of the future, there were other final-year students that had absolutely nothing to worry about. Like Addy – she hadn’t mentioned any specific career plans to him, but she had the grades and work ethic to succeed in whatever career she could want. No, he was absolutely not worried about Addy and her killer instinct at all. But himself? Rafe had spent most of his time at Hogwarts drifting around and letting things happen to him. Quidditch, Art Club…but he wasn’t sure either of those hobbies could pan out to an actual career. And his grades were only passable.

He couldn’t exactly turn to his family for guidance, either. Mickey and Ella had both gone into the pro Quidditch leagues immediately upon graduation, and Rafe knew his dad would want him to try as well. Quidditch was…fine as a hobby. He knew he was good at his position, and really he’d received enough training to play any one of them on the team. But he was dreading telling his Quidditch-obsessed father that he didn’t intend to get recruited. So Raphael kept his career worries to himself, and to Addy whenever the topic came up. He’d also written long letters to Brígh, whole novels in fact, about life at Hogwarts and including some of his best photographs for her to remember Hogwarts. But it wasn’t the same as having her here to talk his ear off.

No, okay. Deep breath. Just focus on getting through the first week of classes. As always, Raphael had his camera with him, although anyone who was paying attention would notice he’d left his typical camera in the Hufflepuff common room. He loved film photography, but he was going digital this year! After escaping joint Potions with the Ravenclaws, Rafe had wandered through the castle so he could test out his new camera in all sorts of conditions. Eventually he found his way into the Courtyard, one of his favorite locations. The outdoor setting meant he could get different lighting than the dark corridors, and it was always full of interesting scenarios– students playing Gobstones, birds flitting in and out, and the fountain always gurgling with water. Raphael was in the middle of taking some test shots when a familiar face caught his attention. He redirected his lens almost automatically to focus on Jimmie Blishwick, who was angled away from him and leaning against one of the pillars. It’d make for an amazing picture if he could capture that stray ray of sunlight too. He bit his lip in concentration and the whole world seemed to fade away until it was just about Rafe and his camera, and capturing the perfect shot.

Jameson Hera Blishwick

[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

SEVENTH YEAR MEANT KNUCKLING DOWN FOR graduation. Jimmie knew it, her dad knew it. She'd come to Hogwarts with a renewed sense of determination. So, her summer had been a bust. Spent herding orphans out of her bedroom and doing inventory in case they decided to steal something. That wasn't a generalisation, she'd heard the rumours about Nathaniel. At least, Jimmie supposed, Nessa wasn't totally intolerable. But, their presence had absolutely mucked up her last summer before adulthood. She hated Nathaniel for that.

Upon returning to Hogwarts, Jimmie had thrown herself in to the school newspaper, even going so far as to walk around between classes with a quick-quotes quill and notepad. In case something came up in a flash. It had put people off conversing with her at times, but Jimmie supposed they would eventually get used to it. Every interaction was a story opportunity, she reminded herself. She wasn't going to run the Daily Prophet if she was concerned by what her peers thought of her. That was ridiculous. The quill followed her like a pet, the sweeping feather tickling her cheek in the Great Hall as she ate. Or setting near her shoulder as she scanned the courtyard for bickering or bent heads.

That was how she was standing when the Puff's camera lens caught her attention. Her back against a pillar, pretending she didn't care that none of her friends had invited her to play Gobstones, or for a trip to the library. Her expensive, shiny Mary-Janes kicking against a loose chunk of concrete as she sighed in to the shoulder of her tailored robes. The glass of the lens caught the light and her quill swished as it turned like a bloodhound. Jimmie followed it instinctively, her eyes widening as she caught the camera going tense in a pair of large, gangling hands. He'd taken her photograph.

Those sharp, metallic eyes narrowed at once. Her nostrils flaring as she unfolded her arms from behind her. Her robes ruffling at her heels as she crossed the courtyard in a military march. She recognised his tie first, the knot terribly done and a Hufflepuff yellow. His name was Romeo, or Remy. Something European, she remembered, from the echoing boom of a Quidditch Commentators voice. They'd played against one and other over the years, but beyond that Jimmie couldn't place his pale face and monstrous frame. The closer she got the taller he became. It stuttered her steps momentarily.

"P-pardon me." She stuttered in her refined, expensive English accent. Her quill gleaming at her shoulder in the watery overhead sunshine. This high in the mountains, the September chill was chased by a persistent sunshine, though the air still felt thin and icy early in the morning and very late at night. "Did you just take my photograph?" She pointed at his camera before reaching for it boldly. "Actually, don't answer that, I know for a fact you did." Her mouth quite stern, but her eyes intent with a hungry curiosity. 

Raphael Caelan McLaggen

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

Raphael’s eyes flickered between the lens of his camera and the scene he was trying to capture. There were several opposing elements he wanted to tie together – the dynamic motion of the water in the fountain, the sunlight gleaming off Jimmie’s white-blond hair and practically giving her a halo, and the contrast in motion between the two opposing subjects. Rafe fiddled with the shutter speed, the aperture, the depth of field – trying to find the perfect balance for a sharp image. That was the beauty of a digital camera -- he could take as many photographs as he wanted, instead of worrying about filling up the roll. He brought the camera back up to his face and took a series of consecutive photos – he’d check them later, since stopping to look now meant he might miss a shot opportunity.

He was so absorbed in his work that it came as a shock to realize that Jimmie was no longer picturesquely glancing around the courtyard, but staring straight at him. Her eyes flashed dangerously as she began to stalk over to him, and Rafe swallowed nervously at the prospect of a confrontation. Was it too late to make a run for it? She’d already seen him, but his legs were longer and he could probably make it back to his common room before her. But that was the definition of winning the battle while losing the war, and by the time he’d decided that she was already standing in front of him. Her stance was confrontational, bold and ready for a fight, and Rafe might have been tempted to snap a quick picture if he didn’t think she might kill him for it.

“M-me?” he tripped over the word nervously as Jimmie accused him of taking her picture. Which, she wasn’t wrong, but he was hoping she might have been addressing somebody behind him instead. But no, he was the idiot with the camera here. She began to reach for his camera, and Raphael recoiled nervously, clutching it protectively to his chest. His camera was the most valuable thing in the world to him, and he didn’t like handing it off to other people. Addy had been pestering him to let her take it apart ever since she’d started with Muggle Studies, but Raphael wasn’t completely certain she knew how to put it back together. So his camera stayed with him always. The scene must have looked entertaining to anyone else watching -- Jimmie was so much smaller than him, but he was definitely more afraid of her than she of him.

In an attempt to stop Jimmie from making another grab for it, Raphael confessed quickly, “Okay, yes! But it’s rare to get a day with so much sunlight, and you looked really pretty…” Oh no no no, abort mission. He didn’t need to mention that Jimmie always had a regal and sophisticated air about her, which made her a perfect subject for a photograph because she was always naturally posing. That knowledge died with him. So he backtracked quickly and said, “No, you’re not pretty. You look fine, average. The shot was pretty.” On second thought…that was actually worse, and he flushed in embarrassment at how easily flustered he got. God, she must think he was an idiot, if she even remembered who he was. He'd been getting a look of second looks after practically growing a foot over the summer. Rafe bit his lip and finished lamely with, “I’ll just…go and get swallowed up by the ground now, please…”

Jameson Hera Blishwick

[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

AT HIS NERVOUS, STAMMERING REPLY, JIMMIE tilted her head in disbelief. Her chin jutting out with a sharp shake, as if she were wondering how he had the audacity to falsify his own existence in the moment. "Who else?!" She asked him sarcastically, blinking large, rounded eyes at him. Her patience for his nerves very thin and very nearly unkind. He recoiled from her reaching hand and she froze, an outraged little "Uh" freezing her mouth agape.

It was an immediate standoff. His arm twice as long as hers and holding the camera far out of reach. Jimmie in his personal space, the polished toe of her shoe against his own. Her eyes level with his chest until she lifted her chin to regard him with a caustic glare. As he had offended her very sensibilities by being so tall and so defiant. And then he had to go and open his mouth.

Jimmie's face flushed with embarrassment, for him and for herself. She stepped back instinctively, curling platinum blond hair around one small, pierced ear as she narrowed her eyes at him. Her quick-quotes quill swishing in the air above the crown of her head. "Please stop talking!" She demanded after a moment, holding up her palm as he backtracked in a tragic, insulting u-turn. She was embarrassed and angry all at once. "Just... shut up..." She drew in a slow breath, his face so large and flushed that she felt almost guilty for cornering him. Almost.

An arm flashed out and she grabbed his arm before he could retreat. "I said shut up, not leave." She stalled him. Her hand ridiculously small against his arm. She fisted her hand around his robes instead. "You can't just take people's photo's without their permission." She lectured him, straightening her spine stiffly as she held out her other hand. "I want to see, show me." Without a shred of manners, she flexed her fingers at him, hurrying him towards her. "If you don't I'll have to report you." She added in a last ditch attempt, shaking hair from her face, her cheeks still pink with embarrassment. "It's a complete violation of my rights as a student." 

Raphael Caelan McLaggen

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

This must be what a deer felt like when it got caught in headlights. Raphael was frozen, and he probably couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Which was probably for the best, because Jimmie had turned a certain shade of red that probably meant she was going to berate him or hex him, and Rafe was worried he’d just make it worse if he opened his mouth again. The first time she told him to stop talking, Rafe closed his mouth so quickly he felt his teeth click. It was too much to look at Jimmie – her eyes flashed dangerously, her normally pale skin had turned a deep red, and her expression confirmed that he must have said every wrong thing possible. So instead his eyes drifted up to look at her quill, which was closer to his natural line of sight and swished idly in the air. Despite being an insentient object, it looked almost at peace, and he had the odd idea that he’d never wished more to be able to switch places with something.

He startled when she grabbed his arm, and his wide-eyed gaze shot back down to make eye contact again. He gulped as he felt her tighten her grip – there really was no escape now. Her next words made his heart sink into his stomach, because…he’d never really thought about what he was taking photos of. His main subjects were usually his friends, who obviously knew that he and his camera were a package deal, or pretty views he found around the castle. Waking up early to experiment with low-light conditions, following butterflies and dragonflies to practice and improve on the more technical side. He rarely photographed people, and he’d never really thought about asking permission first. Most people saw the camera and either moved away or shot him a smile, and that felt implicit enough. He felt a rising sense of panic as she demanded to see the pictures, and even went so far as to threaten to report him.

“Please don’t report me!” he responded in a quick burst, feeling his face fall at the thought of getting into trouble – or worse, his camera being confiscated. Jimmie was clearly embarrassed and she seemed to process that by lashing out – unfortunately, at him. Now that it felt like his tongue had finally been unstuck, Raphael rushed to appease her. “I’m really really sorry, I swear I don’t do it often. And I’ll never do it again,” he babbled, not completely sure what he was saying but hoping it was enough to get him out of trouble. He wilted at the thought that he really was going to have to give her the camera, so he dejectedly navigated until his most recent photo popped up on the screen. These weren’t the ideal conditions to show anybody what he’d taken – not until he’d found the time to upload the photos to his laptop and edit them. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and he bit his lip worriedly as he passed off the camera, leaving one hand briefly to show her how to navigate between the different photos. Then he held his breath as he watched her carefully.

Jameson Hera Blishwick

[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

TO JIMMIE'S IMMENSE RELIEF RAPHAEL SEEMED keen to gain her good graces. Her grip on his robes tightening in case he made a sudden run for it. She felt sort of bed, looking up at his flushed and frightened owlish face. Not sorry enough to take back her threat, right enough. Plus, if his picture was any good she'd have much better things to offer him than the threat of a disciplinary. "I-I'm glad you understand the severity." She maintained her snobbish appearance, nose upturned and mouth pursed. Though she couldn't help her guilty fumble.

As he manoeuvred his camera and handed it to her, Jimmie snatched it hungrily. Though, soon enough she paused at the picture of herself, the photo coming in to sharp focus. One hand still gripping his arm. She hadn't ever really seen herself from this particular angle. A full length shot, the feather of her quick-quotes quill brushing against the curve of her jaw. She looked sort of professional, Jimmie thought. Clearing her throat, she let him go suddenly, a sharp frown on her face.

"It's good." She told him matter-of-factly, straightening the front of her robe and looking at him with accusation. "You're not on my newspaper, are you?" She asked him, still a little flushed, but feeling much better now that she had seen it. "You should take photos for my paper." She told him, looking back down at the camera as she moved through the whole album, photo after photo. "Why aren't you taking pictures for my articles?" 

Raphael Caelan McLaggen

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

Jimmie kept a tight grip on his robes – which Rafe really thought was unnecessary, because he knew the consequences of disobeying her were much greater than whatever he might get from a temporary escape. She continued to scroll through the pictures on his camera and he kept his eyes trained on her as she did so. Raphael was so, so protective of his camera, and he hated when other people handled it. Addy had been bugging him to let her take it apart ever since she’d started Muggle Studies, and although he usually had a lot of trouble saying no to her – well, he’d held firm on his position for years that the camera was off-limits. So he was incredibly skittish at the thought of Jimmie handling it now, even though there was really very little he could do in this situation. Just bide his time until he could make a (hopefully) graceful exit, and then avoid Jimmie Blishwick for the rest of the year. Seemed easy enough.

“Yeah, I know,” Rafe said in a quiet tone as Jimmie lingered on the photo he’d taken of her. He knew it was good – there weren’t many things Raphael was passionate about, but he was crazy about photography. He’d spent years learning about different cameras and film techniques in Art Club, and more importantly he’d gone out and experimented with everything himself. His photos were good – it wasn’t a statement made out of arrogance or a mischaracterized sense of his own importance. It was just a reflection of the facts – Rafe loved photography, and it was easy enough to notice the care and attention he put into the craft in his truly exceptional shots. It didn’t hurt when the subject did half the work by presenting him with the perfect opportunity, either. He idly scuffed his foot on the floor as he waited for Jimmie to get bored with the camera and return it to him.

But out of everything she could have said, Raphael wasn’t expecting her question. He raised an eyebrow at the mention of her newspaper, but didn’t comment. Instead he just shrugged slightly. No, he wasn’t on the newspaper. He read it along with everyone else at Hogwarts, but he’d never had any interest in journalism before. His extracurriculars consisted of grueling training sessions for Quidditch and wandering around the castle at odd times looking for interesting things to photograph. Sometimes that last thing proved handy when he was avoiding his homework, since he could simultaneously avoid Addy’s judgmental looks too. Sometimes Brígh even joined him – and those shots usually turned out fantastic, since she wasn’t afraid to put herself in new and sometimes risky situations. Rafe blinked at Jimmie’s suggestion (really, order) that he should take photos for the newspaper. “Oh. Um, no thanks,” he mumbled, glancing away from Jimmie before finding that his eyes wandered naturally back to his camera. “Could…could I have my camera back?” he asked nervously, eyes darting up to meet hers. She really did cut an imposing figure, and she probably wasn't used to being told no. Rafe would prefer to extract himself from the situation before he dug his grave any deeper.

Jameson Hera Blishwick

[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

NOBODY WAS MORE SURPRISED THAN JIMMIE that the boy's photo was good. Her mind racing as she examined the way he had taken the photo, a perfect full length of herself. The light making her hair look luminescent. It was flattering and she preened like a bird internally. The vanity didn't last long, though. Jimmie's thoughts quickly chased a far more profitable possibility. Her fingers gripping the camera almost possessively as she stared up at him, the question sharp on her lips.

His initial refusal earned a sharp double take. Her hair shaking as she shook her head and looked at him aghast. "What?!" She snapped, eyes narrowing as if he'd insulted her. It wasn't intentional, Jimmie's expressions were often severe. She had a soft face, but she'd never known how to use it. Yanking the camera behind her and well out of reach, Jimmie angled herself towards him, going toe-to-toe. "Uh, no thank you." She snorted, though it wasn't very kind of her. "If I give you you're camera you'll just leave." Jimmie told honestly, eyes widening as she looked at him in a new light.

"What's your name again?" She asked him, those wide eyes narrowing with interest. "Remy... Roland?" Her nose scrunched slightly, Jimmie hated feeling like she wasn't in the know. The fact that such a talent had been hidden right under her nose was infuriating. It was thrilling, like finding buried treasure. "The paper is a great way to hone your skills and for many potential career paths." She'd turned her nose up snootily. It was a sale's pitch she'd made more than once. "It shows discipline and a natural affinity for responsibility." Her voice had taken on a lecturing cadence. "Why wouldn't you want that for yourself?" She tilted her head as if in pity. 

Raphael Caelan McLaggen

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

There was a dangerous look in Jimmie’s eyes – a cross between offense at the audacity he had to say no, and the sort of look he imagined an owl might have when it spotted a mouse and prepared for the hunt. Being the mouse in this scenario, Rafe was very, very nervous about that look and the danger it promised. It was plainly obvious that Jimmie wasn’t used to being told no – which just proved that she must have loads of potential for a future in investigative journalism – and she reacted very badly as a result. Rafe flushed a bright red as she mimicked his earlier refusal, claiming that he’d just scamper off if she gave him his camera. And, well…she was completely, 100% correct. Jimmie had hidden the camera behind her back, which meant theoretically Rafe could use his height advantage to reach around her and snatch it if he wanted. But that would require something like wrapping his arms around her and his face grew hot at the mere thought of it.

“Isn’t that kind of my right?” he mumbled in response, although the delivery was too weak to be a real counterargument. A small part of Rafe was tempted to just turn around and leave anyway, but the reality of the situation was that he would never willingly be parted from his camera. And both he and Jimmie knew it. So they were locked in a stalemate, and Merlin, Rafe had never been very good at those. He was already a brilliant shade of red, so his expression didn’t change when Jimmie asked him about his name. Never mind that they’d been at Hogwarts together for seven years and even played against each other occasionally during Quidditch. “Raphael,” he finally said, choosing to give her his real name instead of the nickname his friends had chosen. He was still suffering from the forced separation from his camera, so he added in a very un-Hufflepuff way, “Raphael McLaggen. You might remember it from that last Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match when I caught the Snitch.”

Jimmie already seemed to be in a severe mood, so she probably wouldn’t take the reminder of Gryffindor’s loss very well. But, Raphael reasoned, she was already angry with him and still withholding his camera, so he had very little to lose. He rubbed the back of his neck and broke eye contact as Jimmie began to spout propaganda about the Hogwarts paper as if she’d swallowed a career advice pamphlet. He’d heard it all before, although that little bit at the end about discipline and responsibility was new. The way she said it matter-of-factly made it sound like she thought the opposite of him now – as if he was an undisciplined and irresponsible student. Merlin, is that how she saw him? Even worse, Raphael wondered with horror, is that how Addy saw him? “Maybe I already have those things,” he said defensively, although the state of his robes and tie suggested something else entirely. That in mind, he continued, “Anyway, that would mean working together for the rest of the year. You can’t really want that, do you?”

Jameson Hera Blishwick

[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

JIMBO WOULD LIKELY DISAPPROVE OF HIS daughter's aggressive persuasion, but Jimmie enjoyed it. The camera held tightly behind her back as she squared her shoulders and grinned up at the boy smugly. His voice meek as he attempted to talk the camera back in to his own hands. Jimmie snorted, her eyes rolling skyward before she looked at him in disbelief. "You're right?!" She exclaimed, laughter colouring her tone. "A bit like my right to privacy, hm?" She lifted her brows. "I never consented to have my photograph taken."

His name triggered recognition in Jimmie's mind and she felt the 'ah-ha!' moment in the rock of her heels. McLaggen's were formidable Quidditch players, but Raphael seemed far too shy to boast the way he did right after. Surprising Jimmie momentarily as the smile slipped from her mouth and she reared her head back slightly, as if slapped. "Ouch," She scoffed, remembering the game very well. Jimmie hadn't thought Raphael had it in him to be so blunt. "Enjoy the victory while it lasts." She added ominously, her eyes narrowed but still severely determined.

Turning on her heel, she readjusted her grip on the camera so that the strap was tangled around her knuckles. She pulled it from behind her back, knotted around her fingers so that if Raphael tried to snatch it back she had a tight grip on it. At his side now, Jimmie looped an arm around his back and pressed insistently as she begun to walk them both back to the doors that led back inside.

"No offence," She said primly, turning her chin to look up at Raphael pityingly. "But, if you have I haven't heard of it." As if this had some great significance. Then again, Jimmie was known for her insider knowledge on all things big and small. "Oh, but I could." She replied surely, grinning once more. "I'm afraid I won't take no for an answer." A shrug rumbled her fine robes along the shoulders, arm swinging so that the camera hit Raphael around his middle. Jimmie let go carelessly, expecting him to simply catch his precious piece of machinery. "You're really very good, McLaggen." She said seriously. "It'd be a shame to watch you sell yourself short." 

Raphael Caelan McLaggen

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

This must be what hell felt like. Rafe stared in disbelief at Jimmie as she sidestepped every single one of his feeble arguments and countered them easily, even grinning while she did so. She’d somehow circled back to the initial point of contention – Raphael thought he might forever regret taking her photograph without permission – and he opened his mouth dumbly to respond before deciding against it and shutting up. He was used to losing arguments, that was nothing new. Addy and Brígh could talk circles around him until he was dizzy, but they were at least his best friends. The fact that Jimmie had now seemingly discovered that it was easy to force him to do something chafed, because Rafe was pretty sure she was going to abuse this superpower. Case in point.

Still, he couldn’t help but give her a bashful grin at the reminder of their last Quidditch match. He’d grown up in a Quidditch-obsessed family, after all, and the McLaggen children had been riding broomsticks since they were physically able. He wasn’t as brilliant as Mickey, but Rafe was no slouch when it came to flying and he was actually proud of his Quidditch successes. It wasn’t really in the boy’s nature to gloat about it – but something told him he’d be making an exception for Jimmie. The smile had fallen off her face, and she looked snooty as she informed him to enjoy the victory while it would last. “All year, then,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck as he smiled at her. His small victory was the very definition of winning the battle while losing the war, and maybe the remark would have been more cuttingly delivered if he could wipe the smile off his face…but oh well.

In his extensive experience in being yet another Hufflepuff who spent the majority of his time being steamrolled by the other Houses…a sentence that started with the phrase ‘no offense’ usually ended in one. Jimmie didn’t disappoint and Raphael cringed slightly at her pointed, if not accurate, observation. Part of him wanted to take a moment and adjust his tie, but then that would just be proving her right. He never had the opportunity anyway because Raphael squeaked – an octave very similar to what his voice range had been like a few years ago – when his beloved camera suddenly swung around to hit him in his stomach. His hands automatically extended to catch it and cradle it closely to his chest. “Jimmie!” he gasped, automatically turning the camera over in his hands to make sure it was undamaged. “That—that was rude!” Raphael scrunched up his nose in anger as he looked down at the Gryffindor, but even with his height…he doubted he cut much of an imposing figure. It seemed like there really was no way out – he believed Jimmie when she said she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Fine,” he said after a long pause, slouching slightly. He chose to ignore her last comment, because he wasn’t sure if it was a genuine compliment or if she was making fun of the fact that before his growth spurt they’d been about the same height. “I…guess I can join your paper. But, you know, you’ll have to stop stealing my camera. This is a bad precedent to set.” Giving her a wary look – a suspicious one! – Raphael attached his longer camera strap and put it on so the camera could hang freely around his neck.

Jameson Hera Blishwick

[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

JIMMIE KNEW OF THE OTHER MCLAGGEN BY reputation and status alone. Of course, she would never have pegged the shy Hufflepuff as the relative of the famously contentious Quidditch player. And then, he had gone and opened his mouth and mentioned the recent Hufflepuff victory. Jimmie had been so blindsided that she'd blinked and seen his frighteningly stern brother standing there instead. Smirking and relishing in smug superiority. She had to give it to him, the boy had layers. "Year's not that long," She commented back, but it didn't hit quite as hard as his own had.

She manhandled him in the direction she desired. All things aside, Jimmie had decided she needed his skills at the paper. She would accept nothing less. The hostage situation was secondary, a necessary evil even. Raphael's obvious discomfort wouldn't last, she reasoned, because he would be better off at the end of it all. She swung the camera at him without a second thought, his spluttering reply making her snort delicately. "Oh, get a grip, Raphael." She scolded him, sending an unimpressed look up at his towering figure - low brow even from below him. "You need to toughen up." She patted his side in a lame attempt at comfort.

Rocking on the tip of her toes, Jimmie stopped her steady gait the moment Raphael finally agreed to her terms. She let him go, but grabbed his arm instead, triumphant. "I knew you'd see sense!" She exclaimed, beaming up at him with a scrunched nose. She smoothed it out just as quickly, straightening her spine and then flattening his rumpled sleeves where she had grabbed him. Even going so far as to dust a bit of lint from the fabric.

"I won't touch that precious camera ever again," She promised him, one she would surely break. "Just as long as its taking photos for my paper." She reached up and gave his cheek a hard pat of unwelcome reassurance before she turned and began to lead them away once more, without grabbing him this time. "A couple of forms for you to sign to finalise and then you're free to go, or whatever!" She waved him along insistently. 

Raphael Caelan McLaggen  you can end on the next post if you like!

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

The devilish grin spreading across Jimmie’s face was an almost certain sign that Rafe had just made a huge mistake – like signing his soul to an imp just so he could get his camera back. But his mind was stupidly blank of anything he could say or do to escape the situation, and he’d just used up his one witty remark of the year reminding Jimmie that Hufflepuff had a better team than Gryffindor this year. Now that was an odd-sounding statement, but he’d relish it as long as it was true. And, he reasoned, any trouble that Jimmie gave him through the newspaper could be paid back just as easily in a Quidditch match. Cheese was no good at standing up for himself, but he was a damn fine Quidditch player. It was easier to promise himself that he could still dive-bomb Jimmie while ‘looking for the Snitch’ if she gave him a hard time about newspaper deadlines than try to do anything to squirm out of the situation now. That was a reassuring thought, and he knew he'd be thinking about it a lot later whenever they stayed up past curfew or worked through lunch to get an edition ready.

“I-I…maybe you need to toughen up!” he spluttered in response to her unimpressed remark, even though his reply didn’t actually make any sense and he winced at his poor delivery. The poor boy was flustered, okay! It didn’t help that he wasn’t actually sure if he’d agreed to do this out-loud, and Jimmie looked way too pleased with herself and Merlin, he desperately needed a Time-Turner or something. She handled him a little roughly as she pat down his robes and brushed off some lint, and he felt limp as a fish while he dizzily tried to process the last minute of conversation. “Don’t pretend this was a voluntary decision,” he mumbled, shaking out the sleeves of his robes so they lost their straight lines and neat folds after Jimmie had messed with them. Rafe didn’t want Addy asking questions about why his robes looked neat – that would raise more red flags than their current rumpled state. And yeah, he didn't technically owe her anything, but he also definitely never needed her to know that this conversation with Jimmie had happened.

Now it was his turn to shoot Jimmie an unimpressed look as she promised to never touch his camera again. They both knew that was a bald-faced lie, because Jimmie had just found his weak point and Cheese doubted she was the generous type that could forget it. She was no cold and calculating Slytherin, but Jimmie was clearly passionate about the newspaper and would do what she needed to in order to make it succeed. And…well, Rafe didn’t want to be there exactly, because he didn’t really care about the news at all and definitely didn’t read any newspapers. But he didn’t want to let anyone down, even the Gryffindor who’d just blackmailed him with his own camera and feelings of inadequacy. “Wait, forms?” he demanded, craning his neck to look down at Jimmie as she began to trot away. He paused a moment before following, his long legs easily catching up to the much shorter girl. “Is this a school newspaper or a cult?” Raphael grumbled, unsure exactly why he was following besides the fact that he usually just did what was told of him. But he could already tell this new hobby wasn’t going to go anywhere – yeah, he didn’t know exactly what the big plan was after Hogwarts, but a newspaper wouldn't have anything to do with it!

Jameson Hera Blishwick
[End post Cheese!]