gilded girls [hazel]

[AMY ESMA ASTOR-SHAW]

Early February 2028

Considering Amy had had minimal success with one Hogwarts professor, she decided to set her sights on a much easier target. Easier, but no less important. Hazel Burke was something of an idol to Amy. She'd hardly been able to pluck up the courage to speak to Professor Burke alone, despite her usually confident and bold nature. She'd never really had to try to get anyone to like her. Amy just had that... aura. She'd once had her tarot read back in California and it had basically told her nothing except that she would face more trials in her near future than she ever had in her past. Amy assumed that meant Scotland was going to be majorly sucky, but in reality, there were some perks.

Back to Professor Burke. Amy was sure her little obsession hadn't gone unnoticed. Hazel still hadn't granted her a nickname - in fact, whenever Amy volunteered information in class, Hazel didn't even shoot a sarcastic remark her way. It put the fear in her. Amy was determined to gain the trust and approval from her, even if it killed her trying. She'd even struggled through a few pages of text to discern something interesting to talk to the professor about. Yet she'd come up with nothing.

Heaving a great sigh, Amy decided the only thing she could do was fake it til she made it. So one Thursday evening, about a month after term had resumed, Amy knocked on the door to professor Burke's office. "Can I come in? Professor?" she asked, her voice a higher pitch than she wanted it to be.

Hazel Rosalie Burke

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Early February 2028

Hazel could always tell when someone was trying too hard. It was especially easy to catch a whiff of desperation on guys at the bars she and Esther would hit on their rare evenings out – ridiculous sets of robes that did nothing to lessen the comparison to puffed-up birds, the easy lies that left their mouths detailing all their impressively fake qualifications, and the ridiculously easy way it was to force them to reach into their moneybags and buy another round when it looked like the attention might end. Hazel’s years of experience with the rather pathetic mold of cookie-cutter British men had given her a leg-up with her students too. She could easily catch the liars (”I swear I wanted to do my essay but the crup got it first”), and the teacher’s pets (they usually all wore Ravenclaw ties anyway), and even the students who desperately wanted to show the rest of their year how brilliant they were.

Amy Astor-Shaw fit rather neatly into that last category, even if Hazel did have good fun pretending she hadn’t quite got the hang of her name yet. It wasn’t that she was a bad egg, because there were telltale qualities that let her know that Astor-Shaw had style – expensive robes, a little smirk when she passed notes in class, and a keen sense of alchemy. But she clearly wanted the professors to like her and it just put Hazel off a bit. She didn’t get much fun in the castle, so she did enjoy playing her little games with the kiddos sometimes. And this was harmless enough really, at least compared to how Hazel had tortured the Ravenclaws by canceling a quiz after forcing them to study all week for it (and twenty minutes after they'd already started).

Sat at her desk with her cat curiously sniffing around a stack of essays nearby, Hazel admired the metal accents of the ring she’d just finished crafting (a neat form of procrastination because she really didn’t want to start on those essays). She sat up lazily and waved her wand to open the door at the hesitant knock, raising an eyebrow as she saw who it was. “Dunno, can you?” she shot back easily, laying her wand back on the desk just in time for Sapphire to meow inquisitively at the stick. Hazel shrugged and leaned back in her chair. “Might as well give it a go, and if Peeves pranked the doorway you’ll be the first to know.”

AMY ESMA ASTOR-SHAW

[AMY ESMA ASTOR-SHAW]

Amy narrowed her eye's at Professor Burke's flippant reply. "I last heard that from my grade school French teacher," she muttered, more to herself than anything. But with Burke's permission, she entered the office. She looked up to see if the door had been charmed, but she was lucky enough to escape any sort of prank by the poltergeist. Amy never understood why they allowed that thing in the castle. It was an absolute menace.

Settling herself in the chair across from Hazel, Amy glanced at the ring on the desk. "That's pretty," she commented blandly. The cat, who had been wholly occupied with batting Hazel's wand, emitting sparks from the tip as it did so, turned it's attention on her. The cat stretched out a paw, pawing at the air between them. Amy offered a hand for the cat to sniff. They seemed to find her sufficient, and rolled on their belly to invite pets. "Is this your office or your cat's?" asked Amy, obliging the cat and giving her a few hesitant strokes. She reminded herself not to be afraid, despite knowing that she was inviting death by claws and teeth. Toby had advised Amy that most animals were not as scary as she'd thought, though they were definitely still usually dirty and smelly. The cat wasn't so bad though - Amy expected nothing less of something belonging to Hazel Burke.

"Lately..." said Amy, turning her attention to Professor Burke and placing her hands in her lap to the cat's distaste. "I've been trying to experiment with different mundane metals and their reactive properties in turning them to gold," said Amy. Hazel knew this. It had been the focus of her work for the last month. "But I'm afraid I'm not really getting anywhere. I've tried highly reactive metals and stable metals, isotopes and the like. But I can't seem to convince the transmutation," said Amy with a frown. "I was wondering if you had an idea where I was going wrong? I thought maybe I could use a mandala, but I haven't found any texts on the subject." In reality, Amy had hardly looked. She hated reading. Hence, why she'd come to her professor to get her opinion.

Hazel Rosalie Burke

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Hazel looked up interestedly as Amy crossed the threshold, but her eyes quickly floated back down at the disappointment of seeing nothing happen. So Peeves hadn’t been near her office. Her non-waterproof satin robes were thankful for the fact, but her keen senses for gossip were rather disappointed. Merlin, absolutely nothing happened in this castle unless it was breakfast in the Great Hall or a DADA class. Hazel longed for the day when her class would be interrupted by petty student drama that she could stick herself in the middle of. Until then…the kiddo settled herself onto the seat on the other side of the desk, and Hazel had to approve at the way she used it like a throne. Yeah, this girl was used to getting everything she wanted.

She looked down at the ring at Amy’s compliment, and took a moment to admire the flawless gold and intricate design. Then she tossed it aside casually, barely noticing the way it skipped across the desk and landed forgotten on an old piece of parchment. “It isn’t done yet. Unenchanted.” And really – what did she care about one little gold trinket? She could transmute any precious metal she wanted, and that made it all worthless in the end. It wouldn’t be worth anything to her until it held magic – and enchanting metal to hold dormant spells had become a specialty of Hazel’s ever since she’d gained her ability to redirect the magic. Only her siblings knew that industry secret. The comment about her cat was boring and Hazel raised an eyebrow at Amy. “Why ask a question if you already know the answer? Really Amaury, save it for Zabini’s class. He does like to go on.” Hazel looked back down dismissively at the chaos that was her desk. Unmarked essays, a purring cat intently inspecting Amy’s hand, and a few unfinished metal-working products. The most noticeable were the mostly-empty orbs that she intended to finish before her next alchemy class – only one was ready and standing eerily by itself, already charged with lightning.

She didn’t even glance up in interest as Amy began to spew her alchemy dilemma at her, continuing to play with a quill as if she didn’t quite care. Still, Hazel listened to every word because – everything in her life seemed to come and go except alchemy. It was her true love in life, even if the sad realities of pureblood women would someday interfere with that. Good pureblood women didn’t really work, after all – not after marriage. Hazel sighed distractedly and wiggled the quill until she had Sapphire’s attention. Her cat wiggled in anticipation and Hazel said aloud in a bored tone, “The mandala is just an aid. Can’t rely on it to do all your work for you.” Sapphire lunged, but didn’t quite catch the quill in time. Hazel continued vaguely, “Anyway, your fundamentals are all wrong. Reactive properties? This isn’t Charms, we don’t toss out spells until something happens. It needs to be guided, see? Can’t pleat the fabric if it’s meant to be ruched.” Hazel tilted her head and glanced over at Amy. “Understand what I’m saying?”

AMY ESMA ASTOR-SHAW

[AMY ESMA ASTOR-SHAW]

Amy sat on the chair and crossed her legs primly, though she quickly shifted into a more comfortable position as the cat on the desk trained their attention onto her. Amy offered up a hand of friendship, and was granted the honour of petting their belly. "Do you typically use defensive or offensive enchantments?" asked Amy, glancing from the cat to the ring to Hazel. Her next question was rather unnecessary as the cat sprawled out across the papers and unfinished metalwork. She was surprised that the cat wasn't completely distracted by the strange orb filled with lightning that had drawn Amy's attention almost at once, but which she dutifully ignored, knowing she would learn more in the next class.

"It's Amy," she corrected Hazel. "Though I think you know that," she added with a saccharine smile. "But you're right, he really does like the sound of his voice. I never thought I'd meet someone who liked to talk more than my dad..." She shrugged. Her father preferred to talk about more mundane things, like production schedules and Hollywood gossip. Once it had been interesting. Once, when Amy hadn't been a girl with budding magical powers.

As Amy expanded on the issue she was having, Hazel didn't seem to be paying attention. But from her own careful observation of the pureblood, Amy knew that anything to do with gold would catch her attention. She continued on even as Hazel wiggled the quill for the cat's attention, who flipped back onto their paws and swiped at the feather. She was unsuccessful as Hazel pulled it out of reach, and Amy frowned. She supposed it was enrichment, but she wondered how Toby would distract a cat. "I don't want it to do all of the work for me, just some of it," murmured Amy, more to herself than to Hazel. She caught Hazel's eye as she went on. "I suppose. Sort of like how you can't pair silk and wool, no matter how much you like each piece?" Amy offered. "But how are we to make advancements if we've already discovered what works and what hasn't?" asked Amy.

Hazel Rosalie Burke

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Amy’s question had never occurred to Hazel before, and she tilted her head curiously as she considered it. Her eyes flickered briefly to the ring she’d discarded, although she didn’t move to summon it back with her wand. “I use whatever what I need in the moment,” Hazel said finally, her tone measuredly neutral so that it wouldn’t betray any of what she was thinking. Call it an old pureblood trick – but why answer any question straightforward when it could be laced in a double meaning instead? Hazel certainly never got straight answers from her parents or any guests at the million pureblood parties she’d attended. “Platinum is so good for transfiguration magic. It’s like, super malleable and hard to break,” she continued vaguely, pointedly avoiding eye contact like she thought anything on her desk was more interesting than the student sitting across from her.

Because no offense to Amy, but they really were all alike – and Hazel lost track of them quite easily. She’d had a few outstanding students but she had never taken a personal interest in any of them. Teaching was a way to stay connected to alchemy and her love for it, and the students…well, that was just a necessary byproduct. Hazel smiled to herself at Amy’s sickly sweet response to her botched name-calling, but didn’t respond. She used the quill to tickle Sapphire’s stomach and watched the cat twist around on the desk to bat at the feather with her paws. Hazel didn’t have a particular attachment to many things, but she’d probably kill to protect her cat. Even get her robes dirty, if the situation really was that dire.

She nodded along at the girl’s astute observation about silk and wool – maybe she could be hired as a consultant to fix Asher’s wardrobe, if he insisted on being so obtuse about fashion. But she frowned and looked up at Amy’s last question. “You can’t break the laws of nature,” she said crossly, rather hating the fact that she could hear Ivy saying those exact words in her mind. As if she was anything like her studious sister. “Wizards can’t force the natural world to fit into our limited imaginations. A good alchemist knows how to see the inner nature of an element and bring it to the surface. But you can’t turn it into something it wasn’t meant to be.” The two made eye contact and Hazel raised a challenging eyebrow at her student. “If you want to discover something new, Amalia, you have to work with your material, not against it. Otherwise you’d just come off as a monkey waving a wand around, and I get quite enough of that in class already.”

AMY ESMA ASTOR-SHAW