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last online Mar 28, 2024 1:27:45 GMT -7
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Feb 17, 2022 7:31:52 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Feb 17, 2022 7:31:52 GMT -7
Merlin knew that Tove needed a drink. Or two. Or five. Regardless, the thought of whiskey is what pulled her down the street of Hogsmeade. It was bitter cold out, considering that it was the middle of winter. Snow piled along the shops, the cobblestone swept by magic for those who were brave enough to wander through the latest winter storm. Tove, who was used to the cold being stuck in Durmstrang for many years, on top of her home in Norway barely even flinched as the snow coated her long auburn hair. Other witches and wizards pulled their winter cloaks closer to them, dodging inside shops to avoid the harsh conditions. The only reason she adorned her cloak was for the protection of the small dragon tucked inside her pocket for warmth. It was a pale green, almost like seafoam, its eyes a striking shade of bright violet. It reminded her of an impending storm on the sea. Hence Tove named her Marna. Mar for short. The result of a Romanian Longhorn and a Common Welsh, one of the few eggs that actually hatched, no thanks to the firey spirit of the Romanian mother toward the Welsh father, the clutch of eggs were in the crossfire. Tove was lucky that she was examining one egg when the incident occured. Needless to say, they split the pair afterward - and Tove had since had Marna under her care ever since. Tove opened the door to the Three Broomsticks and almost every head turned to watch as she sauntered over to the bar. Sitting down at the far end, she motioned for the bartender, ordering a few shots of firewhiskey to start. Marna peeped in her cloak, to which Tove stroked between her temple softly in response to soothe the creature back to sleep.
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Hazel Rosalie Burke
HOMESCHOOL ALUM LIFE PROFESSOR METAL CHARMER MAGICAL MISDIRECTION
123 posts
played by Jenny
I can bless myself, no need for someone else
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last online Sept 25, 2023 6:39:42 GMT -7
STUDYING ABROAD
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Mar 5, 2022 2:33:42 GMT -7
Post by Hazel Rosalie Burke on Mar 5, 2022 2:33:42 GMT -7
January 2027 What in the name of Merlin’s crusty staff was Hazel doing back in Hogsmeade? Once upon a time, it would have been every professor’s dream to escape the dreary routine of the castle to nurse a drink in the wizard village where they certainly wouldn’t run into any pesky students. Hazel, who enjoyed her life with a dash more excitement than could be found in Scotland’s armpit, would kill for the opportunity to skive off writing a syllabus so she could order a line of strong drinks at the Hog’s Head. But…things were different now, and she wasn't sure she belonged here anymore. Even in the middle of a raging winter storm, if one squinted in the general direction of where Hogwarts should be – they’d still be startled to notice the missing outline of the castle in the distance. And even a quick glance around would reveal the lack of colorful scarves or the headache-inducing sound of laughter and magical snowball fights. In short, it was quiet and peaceful and there was a distinct lack of everything that had annoyed Hazel to no end in the past. And that made her feel so empty as she suddenly appeared on the threshold of her go-to pub and wobbled to catch her balance as a sudden gust of wind tore through her robes and left her hair flying wildly in all directions. “They forgot to mention the lovely weather when they posted for new professors,” Hazel muttered irritably as she swept through the door and shut it firmly behind her. She’d spent two bloody years at Hogwarts and didn’t cherish the fond memories of the castle’s freezing corridors and dimly lit classrooms. Beauxbatons, in the one term she’d actually spent teaching there, was beautiful in all seasons and boasted much more mild weather. It felt wrong to be entering the pub alone, without her sister or any of the other professors in tow so they could drink away their sorrows and the most agitating memories of troublemaker students who lived to make their lives more difficult. In fact, her whole life had felt wrong since Ivy's hasty departure in the summer and complete radio silence since then. Asher was back from his stint in almost-Azkaban, but Merlin -- he was no fun at all. His idea of fun included picking out cufflinks and asking when she planned to get married. She had almost considered making the temporary transfer to Beauxbatons full-time (because sod Hogwarts and its apparent plan to reopen next year when there wasn’t even a new foundation yet), but the familiar sight of the Three Broomsticks lit a warm flame of recognition in Hazel's chest. She hadn't thought she would miss anything about her old life, but looking back...it all felt like a dream she hadn't appreciated enough at the time. The pub looked different, to be sure – there were no Gryffindors jostling each other for control of the fireplace or Ravenclaws organizing their notes by subject – but it still sent a flood of memories through her. Ugh, nostalgia…what a positively middle-class emotion. Hazel’s eyes scanned the room before settling on a familiar figure at the bar. A crooked smile played at her lips as she moved swiftly to take a seat beside her. “Let me guess,” Hazel drawled as she delicately sat down and adjusted the wide-capped sleeves of her robes, “You lost a bet, and now you’ve decided to drown your sorrows in the middle of godforsaken nowhere. That's it, isn't it?”@tove
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last online Mar 28, 2024 1:27:45 GMT -7
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Mar 11, 2022 13:46:13 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2022 13:46:13 GMT -7
Tove had been spending more time around Hogwarts as of recent. With the reserve near by it seemed like they needed her help more often than not. Which was fine, Tove was more than happy to lend a helping hand as long as the dragons she was in charge of were taken care for appropriately. So, if it was a week in which the reserve needed her she worked over time, which meant sixty or more hour weeks. The money was good during that time, but her sanity was not. Hence, why she was around Hogsmeade for a drink in this weather. Although there was something about the snow that made her feel more at home now than ever. Having lived in Norway for much of her life it was a breath of fresh air when there was an impending snow storm coming. The cold was deep in her bones, but it was a feeling that she often missed when she was not near her true home in Norway. A blonde sat down in the empty seat beside her, and instantly Tove lit up. A squeel threatened to erupt from her to which she shoved down the girlish act. Instead she leaned over to her friend and hugged her tightly. It had been too long since she had run into Hazel, let along run into her at a bar. Marna squeaked at the sudden contact, to which Tove responded with some pets beneath her ears and an, "I'm so sorry, Mar." Tove examined her friend, bright like the summer, and radiant like the gold that she was. Nothing changed when it came to Hazel from what Tove had gathered. "Look what the cat drug in." She chuckled, shaking her head. "Been a long time, Hazel.""I wish I could say that, but alas, work has sent me here for the week." Tove lifted up her glass and tipped it back, allowing the firewhiskey to burn. " I've been off and on at the reserve for a little while now, actually. How on this green earth I have not run into you until now is beyond me. Where have you been hiding?"
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Hazel Rosalie Burke
HOMESCHOOL ALUM LIFE PROFESSOR METAL CHARMER MAGICAL MISDIRECTION
123 posts
played by Jenny
I can bless myself, no need for someone else
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last online Sept 25, 2023 6:39:42 GMT -7
STUDYING ABROAD
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Apr 7, 2022 17:51:30 GMT -7
Post by Hazel Rosalie Burke on Apr 7, 2022 17:51:30 GMT -7
Merlin, it felt like the whole world had been pushing her to grow up and become more like Asher over these last few months. And the actual worst, most disgusting thing about it? Hazel didn’t even notice until she was back in the company of someone as light and breezy and sensibly unsensible as Tove. Hazel let herself giggle as she hugged her friend tightly, although she gave a shiver of shock at the squeak that seemingly came from Tove’s robes. She clutched her chest and gave a mock glare as she asked, “Bloody hell, bringing the merchandise to pubs now? Extremely wooden pubs, too.” She knew Tove hated whenever Hazel called the dragons that, like they were a collection of ridiculously valuable parts as opposed to…actual magical creatures. But Hazel wasn’t an outdoorsy person (asterisk, unless the spa was located outside) and she couldn’t remember a time she’d ever gotten dirt under her fingernails. Chalk it up to creative differences between her and her dragon-loving friend.
But Tove was right – it had been a long time. “Hey, and whose fault is that?” Hazel asked haughtily before continuing, “I mean, completely mine of course. France is so much farther than it looks, really. And the little buggers keep me busy all the time.” Kids. Can’t live with them, can’t toss them off towers for disobedience because that’s grounds for a sacking. It was strange to think of teaching as Hazel’s calling, but the fact of the matter was that she’d chosen to stay at Hogwarts after her first year because she couldn’t imagine doing anything else. And that was probably why she was going to come back too, even if the weather was bloody awful. She didn’t mind having some time away from the UK, though. The tabloids hadn’t finished running the Burke name through the mud, and Asher’s duel with Zabini in the Great Hall was still fresh in everyone’s minds. Not to mention Zabini had won an Order of Merlin for it, the oaf.
“Ugh,” Hazel groaned with a shiver at the mention of work. It shouldn’t surprise her that Tove had wandered up to Scotland for it, because there were probably (definitely) loads of dragons crawling around the uninhabited mountains. “So they sent you here, and you came? I would’ve threatened to resign.” It was such a lie, of course, because Hazel had been given plenty of natural opportunities to leave her post at Hogwarts and seek greener pastures (literally). But something kept drawing her back, some sort of beautiful torture. She gave a mock gasp of outrage at Tove’s question, tossing her hair back and fiddling with the sleeves of her robes again. “Please, Burkes don’t hide. I’ve been posted at Beauxbatons – a fabulous honor for them, of course. It’s true what they say, everything is better on the other side of the Channel.”
@tove
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