Sparklers [Cordelia]

[cordelia regan smith]

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Cordelia let out a small laugh at Raphael's comment. Finding a leprechaun would be child's play. That was also below The Quibbler's typical nonsense that they wrote up. Everyone knew that it was an insane publication, her only reasoning for taking the job being that it paid her to keep taking photographs. Her editor never once questioned if she turned in half a roll of film that was filled with other subject matter. Plus, having a legitimate space to develop photographs was a huge bonus. The chemicals cost a fortune and that was what held her back from doing everything in her home lab at the flat. That and she didn't want to crowd it when her roommates were allowed to use it too.

"M-More like f-finding female cupids...and things that d-don't actually exist," she explained. Or maybe they did. The amount of nonsense she was sent out to 'capture' and ultimately came back without evidence of was high. That was when they typically defaulted to sketch drawings of what the assumed creature may look like, or something along those lines. "They sent me into Kn-Knockturn last year to find a kelpie," Cordelia added as she took another long view of the street below them. She'd forgotten how high up this was, and that they still needed to go back down after. "All I f-found was an old well." Straight out of a horror movie at that too.

Taking photographs for 'fluff pieces', as Raphael put it, sounded kind of enjoyable. Cordelia had imagined that working at the Prophet would be far more lucrative for her as a photographer, but was also terrified of the fast pace of it all. She was the way she was, and The Quibbler suited her perfectly because of that. "W-Why'd they do a piece on that? All f-fingernails never stop growing..." That was sort of obvious, right?

Raphael Caelan McLaggen ● 320

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

“Bloody hell,” Cheese said, making a face at the thought of hunting for female cupids. He’d never much liked photographing magical creatures (if you could call a cupid that), since it meant having to go near things that might want to take a bite out of him. He hadn’t the courage for it, so he stuck to hanging half-out of windows and crawling onto rooftops to look for the perfect shot. Cheese didn’t mind photographing people as much, because at least you could talk to them. But he shook his head at the thought of working for the Quibbler and never getting a straight answer on what you were supposed to be doing. “No kidding,” he said with awe in his voice as Cordelia mentioned going into Knockturn Alley. “Was it cursed?” He was somewhat relieved to hear that there wasn’t a kelpie in Knockturn, but it didn’t matter much anyway. That was another thing that Rafe didn’t have the courage for. He’d never set foot in Knockturn Alley.

He shrugged a little and laughed at the fluff pieces he did for the Prophet. Jimmie teased him mercilessly about it, but he meant what he’d said to her when they’d both started working there. He liked the kind of work he did – getting to explore London, meet all kinds of interesting people, and photograph meaningful moments in their lives. “Not like his did,” he said with a shudder, “I could watch them getting longer. It was bonkers, some kind of jinx he never got treated.” But he’d gotten to be in the paper because of it, which had pleased him enormously. Cheese had snapped some photos of him holding different objects so people could get an idea of the size of it, and he hadn’t seen him since. That was the nature of the job, but he couldn’t complain. His dad had gone on endlessly that there weren’t any career opportunities for ‘artists’ and he’d scoffed at Cheese’s decision not to go into Quidditch like Mickey. If having to see him occasionally in the sports department was the price he had to pay for doing what he loved, then so be it. “There’s s’posed to be fireworks, yeah?” he asked Cord, craning his neck over the edge so he could look for any wizards or witches carrying bulky packages. The festival looked fun and all, but Cheese wanted a photo with something more than sparklers.

cordelia regan smith

[cordelia regan smith]

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”F-Felt like it,” Cordelia mumbled out about the well. She had seen the muggle horror movies before. Getting too close would either result with her being dragged in by the cold grasp of a black-haired ghost girl, or a phone call seven days later spelling out her imminent doom. She generally liked films like that, but this one had left a lasting impression on her. The only solace was that she almost never found herself around a well. Until she ended up in Knockturn Alley on that job and was forced to. ”Y-You know how some things j-just feel off? It was like that…” Though that could have been from anything, because she was in Knockturn. Her general demeanor and personality absolutely clashed with that part of the shopping district. If a place was able to feel and sense the same way a person could, then Knockturn was definitely trying to suck her in and sap out all of her joy and happiness. It was a gross, oppressed feeling being there.

Cordelia made a disgusted frown as Raphael explained how he was able to physically watch the fingernails grow. Why wouldn’t the man simply go to St. Mungo’s and have it taken care of? Surely there were spells or ointments that could prevent the nails from continuing to grow like that. ”Th-That sounds l-like such a hassle to have them,” she commented, still grossed out by the whole thing. Long nails drove her insane, and she couldn’t imagine willingly allowing them to grow in such a manner.

”Err yeah, I-I think.” Though hadn’t there been fireworks every night of this event? And every afternoon? If it hadn’t been for the charms on the flat, she imagined that it would have sounded like they were going off every hour by now. ”I-I saw one in the shape of a dragon y-yesterday.” Getting an aerial shot of that would be something else.

Raphael Caelan McLaggen ● 320

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

He shivered again as Cord finished her story about Knockturn Alley and nodded feverishly at the feeling she was describing. “There were some spots in the castle like that,” he said, imagining the random corners of the dungeons he’d gone through trying to find interesting things to photograph. Still, he had to imagine that Knockturn Alley was a million times worse. His mum had forbidden him from wandering off there when he’d been a kid, and Cheese had never seen fit to disobey her on that. He’d be quite happy if the only time he saw Knockturn was in his random nightmares about banshees and hags. He fiddled with his camera, trying to take a little comfort from the familiar motions.

After a second, he squinted into the distance where it looked like a far-off figure was releasing a cage of birds. Magical birds, maybe? He held his camera up and adjusted the lens while he waited to see what the wizard might be doing. As he did so, he shrugged a bit at Cordelia’s observation about his last assignment. “The price of fame, I s’pose?” If it’d been him, he would’ve gone off to St. Mungo’s immediately to have his fingernails looked at, but some people liked the attention. And would do anything to get into the paper for whatever reason. He’d seen a lot of shows with a similar concept. Some witch or wizard enjoying their fifteen minutes of fame for whatever random gimmick they were known for.

Since Cord had already been to the festival, Cheese relied on her memory that they’d be doing the fireworks again. “I hope they do it again!” he said eagerly, snapping a few shots of the birds (non-magical, it seemed) as they flew into the distance. Dragon fireworks were bloody amazing to look at, but they also burned much hotter and much longer than some of the other kinds. It’d make for a great shot, that was for sure. “Or a phoenix, maybe. I guess they’ve got lots of options.” Not that he was really an expert, on either fireworks or the cultural traditions behind the festival, but he was ready either way. Cheese was just an observer – he didn’t have to understand everything he saw.

cordelia regan smith

[cordelia regan smith]

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While Cordelia fully believed that there were darker parts of the Hogwarts castle that only the bravest could enter, being in a classroom surrounded by boisterous teens and being put on the spot had been far more terrifying to her. She still didn’t think she could completely deal with it now, but she had grown in terms of being able to handle people better one on one and in smaller groups. Her living arrangements had assisted greatly with that. Even worse had been the professors, always choosing her because she knew answers and some thought they could ‘break her out of her habit’, which by seventh year, was a preposterous and impossible assumption for them to make. It was here to stay, unfortunately, the stuttering only slightly stopping when she had the chance to slow down around those she was comfortable with.

”I-I wouldn’t know…” she said after a moment, in regards to the castle’s hidden areas. The Art Club room had been used once or twice by couples that didn’t know it was still an active club with quite a few members. After the second time of walking in on a trail of clothes leading towards the supply closet, she made sure to whip up a sign for the classroom door. She had never told anyone the reasoning for it, as she was far too embarrassed to recount the story aloud. But those sorts of situations definitely fell into the same category for her.

As for fame, she didn’t really get the whole deal with it. Living quietly and unobtrusive sounded better to her. Her mum’s decision to be out in the countryside of Inverness and commute every day to St. Mungo’s was a dream of her own. It was peaceful back home, away from all of what played out on the street below them.

”A ph-phoenix would be cool,” Cordelia agreed as she started to look for a better position on the roof. She didn’t want to hang completely over the edge, lest a rogue firework fly into her face and cause her to flip over the edge. Plummeting to her death on the account of a phoenix-shaped firework was a fast-track to a Famous Witches and Wizards card in their ‘Magical Mishaps and Maladies’ set. ”I think it’ll b-be another dragon though.”

Raphael Caelan McLaggen ● 385

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

It was nice not to feel guilty for being in the zone. Sometimes Cheese had to shake himself out of his natural tunnel vision, forgetting about the people he was with or the conversation they were having when he had his camera in hand. He did his best not to have it happen, but the instinct to focus on the scene in front of him drowned out the need to be social or polite. But in that sense, reconnecting with Cordelia after Hogwarts had been nice. She’d gone to the trouble of setting up the darkroom by the time Cheese had moved in, and he saw some of his familiar habits echoed in her too. Like now. Sure, they'd been chatting back and forth since scoping out a good spot for their photographs and then climbing up the roof– but it was happening in between the more important stuff. Finding a good spot, scanning the crowd, setting up the tripod, and waiting for the magical fireworks to start.

Those habits had definitely become a way of life by this point, and he moved through the motions automatically to set up his camera while they chatted about the fireworks. “I’ll take that bet for…” Cheese stopped to rummage through his pockets, laughing sheepishly as he only came up with a handful of Knuts and a new toy he’d bought for his owl. He put the stuffed cucumber back in his pocket and counted out the bronze coins. “…five Knuts,” he offered. He wasn’t exactly one of the high-rollers that sauntered through Horizont Alley on their way to the casino, but Cheese had a good feeling about the fireworks. Dragons were a classic, but a phoenix seemed like the right way to end the night. Besides, it was better to bet on actual money instead of chores. He’d agreed on a poorly thought-out bet with Eli once, and doing his laundry had been a nightmare. Having not been much good at Care of Magical Creatures, Cheese was always left wondering if the stains were dirt or manure.

A while later, a hush started to travel through the crowd as if everybody had gotten a sign of what was coming except for Cheese. He plopped himself down on the roof and checked the camera again so he could make a slight adjustment to the angle. The sky was getting darker, but Cheese hadn’t checked his phone in ages (since he’d sort of forgotten it existed) and couldn’t be sure what time it was. Or if anybody was looking for them (which he supposed they’d find out once they were back at street level). Cord was keeping a safe distance from the edge of the roof, so Cheese set up nearby and kept his neck craned at an uncomfortable angle while he waited for the fireworks. The silence was comfortable while they waited, and his attention tunnel-visioned into his camera once it actually started.

cordelia regan smith
[End post Cheese!]