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Sept 14, 2017 20:09:29 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2017 20:09:29 GMT -7
The Quidditch game had been an absolute disaster. Cecelia knew that most of the members of her team were probably more focused on the fact that their team had lost, but for her, the worst part of the game had been hurtling towards the ground, unsure whether or not she would be able to stop herself before smashing into the ground. It had all happened so quickly, but flashes of it had been flickering in front of Cecelia's vision for the fifteen minutes since she had gotten to the hospital wing, and she couldn't quite shake the fear. Cecelia knew she was predisposed to this sort of thing - being excessively fearful, that was. The events of the past year, from Braelynn's death to Desirae's, and the creation of the Unbreakable Vow and following Elaine, had done a number on her nerves. Cece would be surprised if she didn't have nightmares that night. The nurses in the hospital wing were focused more on her physical well-being than the mental, though, for which the Gryffindor couldn't blame them. She had been all too quick to brush the nurse off when she had wanted to get back into the game, and she had spent the rest of her time on the pitch miserable as a result. One of the nurses told her that she had broken two of her ribs, which was absolutely delightful. After smearing a thick, foul-smelling paste on the bruise on her cheek, the nurse had bustled away to prepare the proper potion to begin healing her ribs, leaving Cecelia to sit on the bed and ponder her near-death experience.
grey xavier slater
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grey xavier slater
HOGWARTS ALUM DAILY PROPHET QUIDDITCH REPORTER
673 posts
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Sept 18, 2017 17:49:00 GMT -7
Post by grey xavier slater on Sept 18, 2017 17:49:00 GMT -7
@cecelia Rain was typically a deterrent for Grey when it came to watching Quidditch matches. Obviously if he was assigned to write the article, then he had to be there. But this one had been a scrimmage, and a hell of a one at that. The weather was miserable, the fans in the stands were miserable, and from he recalled at the start of it, pretty much all of the players were miserable. They seemed happy to play, but under those conditions, no one was truly excited. Well, almost no one had been. There were a few flashes of red hair in the sky that seemed absolutely delighted by the prospect of the match. As the rain pounded down on them though, things had deteriorated quickly, culminating in easily one of the worst bludger-player collisions that he could recall ever seeing. Of course, luck would have it that the player getting hit wasn’t just a Gryffindor, but also Cecelia. Even though the rain muffled out any sound on the pitch, Grey could have sworn that he heard the crack of the bludger hitting her back and then subsequently sending her hurdling towards the ground. Despite looking like she was dead for a few seconds, somehow she had managed to get back up, wave off the nurses (from what he could tell), and ended up finishing the match. Only she could do that.
The rain sent everyone sprinting back to the castle as soon as the match had finished, and even the players were virtually all in and out of the locker rooms in record time. Somewhere in the mass exit, the nurses had apparently gotten ahold of Cecelia and dragged her up to the hospital wing. Grey had stood around waiting for a few minutes before one of the other players decided to tell him. If he had used his head, he probably would have figured that out sooner rather than later. There was no way that a fall like that didn’t cause some sort of injury. So back up to the castle he went, sopping wet and feeling like he weighed twice of what he actually was. Luckily the hospital wing was just far enough away from the entrance that he could blow dry himself off with the hot-air spell. The nurses would throw a fit if he dragged a puddle inside there.
Pushing the door to the hospital wing opened, he was surprised to see that the only people inside were the nurses, bustling about like usual, and Cecelia. From his vantage point she looked…well, happy that the match was finally over, he was sure. He crossed the room and took a seat in the chair that was next to her. Grey didn’t know what to say. The extent of her injuries was probably far worse than what she had let on during the match, considering she made contact with a bludger and the ground. Making a smart ass response about that wouldn’t go over well. At least he didn’t think it would. A few more seconds of silence passed before he finally decided to speak. “Just say the word and I can beat up the kid that hit you with the bludger.” That seemed more lighthearted to talk about than injuries did.
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Sept 24, 2017 18:43:37 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Sept 24, 2017 18:43:37 GMT -7
Was it bad that Cecelia was surprised when Grey appeared in the doorway? Probably, she told herself, though she smiled tiredly at her boyfriend when he approached. It wasn’t either of their faults that she wasn’t used to being cared for in the way that he cared for her (and the way that she, in turn, cared for him). For a moment, Cecelia’s mind flickered to Braelynn. She had been contemplating sending letters to her sister for quite some time now, but she feared that if she wrote only to tell her sister of the injuries, then the other girl would get the wrong sort of idea, and would think that Cecelia only wanted her pity. No, Cecelia had long since grown past wanting pity. It was her own choices that had gotten her in her situation – both with the Quidditch injury and with everything else – and it was going to be her own choices that would get her out of her situation (though that applied more to the former than to the latter). Cecelia reached over to where Grey was sitting, brushing her hand against his leg and wondering if this was the sort of situation that demanded holding hands.
Cecelia burst out into surprised laughter when Grey offered to beat up the kid that hit her with the Bludger. She knew his name – Cameron Greene – though really, she wished she didn’t, so that she’d have that as a defense as to why Grey couldn’t hunt the Ravenclaw down. “I thought vengeance wasn’t in the Gryffindor spirit?” She said, deciding to follow Grey’s lead of making light of the situation in lieu of acknowledging the potential it had to be serious. Slytherins seemed to be the ones that were more obsessed with getting even, though Gryffindors did have a nasty habit of lashing out against those they believed had harmed one of their own, usually with less finesse (and more punching) than the Slytherin brand of revenge. Cecelia supposed that her case definitely qualified as being harmed, though she didn’t much care about getting back. Sure, it had been a poor shot on Cameron’s part, but she was fairly certain that he wasn’t being intentionally malignant. And if he was, then he was doing a really poor job of it, considering that Cecelia had all but walked the injury off… though she had paid for that, hence why she was in the hospital wing.
“We didn’t even win.” Cecelia lamented. Getting injured in a game wasn’t a fun experience, but at least when her team won she could pretend that her sacrifice had led to the win. She knew that it was only a scrimmage, but there was some level of disappointment in losing nonetheless. This game had all but solidified her choice not to go into professional Quidditch, though – she didn’t want to take pummelings like that one for the rest of her life, even if she was being paid for it.
grey xavier slater
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grey xavier slater
HOGWARTS ALUM DAILY PROPHET QUIDDITCH REPORTER
673 posts
played by Colin
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last online May 28, 2023 18:00:12 GMT -7
WIZARDING ADULT
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Sept 24, 2017 21:41:55 GMT -7
Post by grey xavier slater on Sept 24, 2017 21:41:55 GMT -7
@cecelia Cecelia brushing her hand on his leg reminded him that those were things that happened now. If his current self went back two months and talked to past self, he would probably laugh at himself. While those feelings had been present then, he never would have thought that he would act on them. There were so many things that he should have done while at Hogwarts, but he always stopped himself short. Not this time. Grey took her hand gently in his but making sure that it was firm enough to show that he was there and it wasn’t simply out of obligation. He had seen that in movies. Thankfully they had helped him figure a few things out so far. Everything else was basically like getting thrown into a lake without knowing how to swim. Exhilarating at times, and absolutely terrifying at others. Right now though, holding her hand gave him that airy, light feeling that he only got when he was around her. Apparently this was what being on cloud nine was. Supposedly it eventually dulled, but almost two months in and he’d yet to see a change in it. At least that meant he wasn’t as dead inside as he had thought. Just took a little coaxing to get feelings and emotions going.
She laughed at his idea about beating up the Beater. That was good right? Meant that she wasn’t as hurt as she looked? Or at the most, he had made the right move by trying to make light of everything. He nodded his head as she stated that it didn’t sound very Gryffindor to go after someone like that. She had a point. “It isn’t,” he agreed. “But there’s a first for everything, right?” Grey grinned at her. He wouldn’t actually hurt the kid. Maybe just give him a stern talking to and tell him to practice more so that it didn’t happen again. They had been teammates for the time being, and the one thing teammates were supposed to do was keep each other safe throughout the match. If another Beater launched a bludger at one of your Chasers, you returned it right back at one of theirs. That was how the game went. But the kid messed up and his recklessness had gotten Cecelia hurt. Grey was sure there were other factors at play in all of it too, like the rain and the boy’s inexperience at the sport, but the fact remained that he still hit the bludger that led to her crashing.
Grey desperately wanted to say that winning wasn’t everything, or that there was always a next time. He knew that probably wasn’t true though. Since she wasn’t planning on playing professionally, that scrimmage was the last official match of Quidditch she would ever play. There was probably a certain level of disappointment that accompanied it. Having never played a sport though, Grey wasn’t sure if he could truly understand that feeling. “At least you’re not in the rain anymore,” he tried to reason. There had to be some kind of positive in all of that. The rain had sucked all the excitement out of the match in his opinion. Everything else just piled on top of that by the time it finished.
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Sept 29, 2017 8:13:21 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Sept 29, 2017 8:13:21 GMT -7
Cecelia had been unsure about holding hands, but apparently Grey was not. His hand was cool (probably because of all of the time he had spent in the rain, Cecelia mused, though she had also been outside and was probably equally as cold) but comforting, like an anchor to the world. It was amazing how someone could be both gentle and firm at the same time, but Grey managed to do it. The comfort of the hand in hers drained away some of the worried, about Braelynn and Desirae and the future. Even if she couldn’t tell Grey the extent of everything that faced the two of them, she was sure that he was going to be there as long as she let him. Her boyfriend agreed that vengeance definitely wasn’t in the Gryffindor spirit, but there could be a first time for it, and she chuckled humorlessly at his accompanying grin. “I think he learned his lesson already.” If it were Cecelia who had made the mistake, just being forced to watch her teammate take that sort of fall would be enough of a punishment. If said teammate’s significant other came to shake some sense into her, she would probably just burst into tears. Not that Cameron was anything like her, but Cecelia had a feeling Grey would not deal well with having to comfort a crying Ravenclaw.
Grey’s response to her comment about losing – that at least she wasn’t in the rain anymore – pulled another laugh out of Cecelia, though she had to pause at that. The nurses had told her that two of her ribs were broken, so laughter probably wasn’t the best medicine in this case, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Feeling better emotionally was worth the physical pain. “And now you’re out of the rain, too.” Cecelia agreed. “You didn’t have to watch, you know.” It couldn’t have been the responsibility of writing for the newspaper that brought him there, since he was only required to write about official matches, and the scrimmage had been just that – a scrimmage. Sitting in the cold and the rain in the stands couldn’t have been much fun. Cecelia doubted that most people could actually see what was happening. She had a hard time keeping track of it herself, and she had the advantage of being much closer to the action. Cecelia waited a moment more before adding to her previous statement. “But I’m glad you did.” Cecelia avoided meeting Grey’s gaze for a moment before deciding that she ought to steer the conversation away from the Quidditch match and her injuries. “Has it changed your mind at all about wanting to be an Auror instead of a journalist? You could get paid to watch people fall off their brooms.” The joke was a little macabre, but Cecelia had to admit that it was easier to stomach the idea of Grey watching other people but themselves in danger than to have him putting himself in danger, as he would being an Auror. That wasn’t her choice, though, and Cecelia knew as much. Just as Grey would stand beside her, she would stand behind him, not try to persuade him to do what she wanted. They were equals – partners – and would be for a long time, if Cecelia had anything to say about it.
grey xavier slater
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grey xavier slater
HOGWARTS ALUM DAILY PROPHET QUIDDITCH REPORTER
673 posts
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Oct 1, 2017 21:01:46 GMT -7
Post by grey xavier slater on Oct 1, 2017 21:01:46 GMT -7
@cecelia Had the Ravenclaw boy learned his lesson though? Possibly. Grey didn’t want to outright admit that he thought the same, since he felt like it was necessary to act like he was tough right now. The boy was just a fifth year though, and going after him for an accident would be overboard. He simply nodded his head in agreement. In the end, this was all a learning experience at Cecelia’s expense. Grey wasn’t sure what the extent of her injuries yet, not really wanting to jump onto that subject unless necessary, or if the nurse kicked him out. The only other learning experience that would possibly come out of this would be how to end up in Azkaban in ten seconds flat. Because that would happen if he went after the kid. He couldn’t get off of that for some reason. It was frustrating because he wanted to do something about it, but knew that he shouldn’t; that it wasn’t worth it.
At least they were moving on from that, and the discussion about the weather took over. Being out of the rain was wonderful. Despite being a huge fan of drizzly, chilly mornings, today was certainly the exception to that love. No one could be happy in that kind of downpour. It literally sucked the life out of you. There was a reason Cecelia had been hit with the bludger and subsequently crashed. Already sloppy games only got worse in awful weather. He knew that he would never truly understand what playing Quidditch in the rain was like, but just watching was enough to get an idea. Years of observing matches and practices had taught him a lot about the techniques and plans set forth in inclement weather. What transpired earlier was somewhat of an effort to work through it. “And miss the last Quidditch match I’ll ever see at Hogwarts?” And actually watch it for her? Grey didn’t need another reason to go to it, he would have gone regardless. Having Cecelia playing was just the icing on the cake. He had probably seen her play dozens of times prior to today, but never watched it because of her. It was strange to think of the match that way. The additional part about her being glad he showed had him grinning for a few seconds. He definitely still wasn’t used to all of this.
Their conversation shifted once again, this time to his prospective jobs. Only a few more months before that started. Grey knew what she was asking without her actually saying it. Their concerns were one in the same. Maybe if he had graduated a few years earlier and went on to become an auror, it wouldn’t have been the same as it was now. It seemed like nobody wanted to follow through with the training because it was too dangerous once you got out of it. Hell, he worried constantly about Claire’s safety, even if she didn’t care that he did. There were legitimate concerns about being law enforcement these days, and while being a journalist was his true calling, he knew that he couldn’t give up being an auror just because he was scared. Not without giving the training a shot first. “If it was about the money, maybe. Honestly, I’d love to be a journalist over an Auror, but someone has to be there for those that can’t defend themselves.” Just saying that sounded gross, even if it was true. It was such a canned response for a Gryffindor that was an aspiring Auror. Finn and Rai had apparently taught him well. “Plus I’ve already invested time into it…” He was pretty sure he hadn’t mentioned the part about practicing to be an animagus yet to her. Most of the ‘practice’, if it could really be called that, was just meditation. But he was far enough along now where the real training could start at any moment. Becoming an animal was probably useful for a journalist in some manner, but it fit more for being an Auror. At least that was what he had convinced himself to believe.
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Oct 22, 2017 19:24:46 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Oct 22, 2017 19:24:46 GMT -7
Grey didn’t say anything else about going after Cameron, so Cecelia was going to consider her boyfriend off of the warpath. She didn’t believe that Grey would actually hurt someone, but there was also a helplessness that came with watching the people you cared for be hurt, and sometimes that helplessness could make people do things that weren’t typical of them.
Cecelia’s stomach did a strange flip-flop when Grey asked about missing the last Quidditch match he would see at Hogwarts. It was still weird to think about the finality of being in their seventh year – all of the last times they would be doing things without even realizing it. Hopefully, this would be Cecelia’s last visit to the hospital wing while at school. There would be a last trip to the library, and a last walk around the grounds, and a last late night spent in the common room making sure that everyone was getting in before curfew. There were so many lasts… but also so many firsts waiting to happen. The first steps they took in the outside world, as graduates of Hogwarts. The first day (or, for Cecelia, night) at their job. Their first rent payment. The adult world was looming in front of them, but… Cecelia squeezed Grey’s hand again. She had thought, once upon a time, that she would enter the world alone. But she didn’t have to – she had someone by her side. “After we graduate, we should see about getting tickets for a professional game.” Cecelia commented. She wasn’t sure how many pro games Grey had seen, but it would be a fun way to spend time together when they were otherwise busy with work. It felt good to make plans for the future, Cecelia thought, because for the first time in a long time, she could see the future spread before her, like a brilliant tapestry of light and life and beauty.
Cecelia tried to keep the frown from pulling at her face when Grey said that he’d love to be a journalist, but that someone had to be there to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves. Part of the reason Cecelia was trying not to frown was because it made her facial bruising smart, but more importantly, she didn’t want her opinion to sway Grey one way or another. He had wanted to be an Auror before they started dating, and she didn’t want him to think that he needed to turn his world upside down to please her. That wasn’t what love was, and a relationship where one person made decisions for both people was definitely not a healthy one. “There’s more than one way to protect someone.” Cecelia said. She wasn’t going to dictate Grey’s future, but she wanted to make sure that if he was going to put himself in the line of fire, it was for the right reasons. Having a reporter like Grey would protect people – not in a physical sense, but in an emotional sense. Cecelia had been on the receiving end of sideways glances and whispered conversations, and while there was good reason for them, there were people about whom rumors were spread, and who were accused of things unfairly. One intrepid journalist could stand up for truth and integrity in reporting, and Cece knew that that was what Grey was capable of. Her boyfriend said that he had already invested time into becoming an Auror, and Cecelia nodded. It would be easy to point out that he had also invested time into journalism – he didn’t become the editor of the newspaper on a whim – but she didn’t want to turn this into an argument. Grey had made his choice, and even if it wasn’t her favorite choice, it was Cecelia’s responsibility as both his friend and girlfriend to support it.
grey xavier slater
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grey xavier slater
HOGWARTS ALUM DAILY PROPHET QUIDDITCH REPORTER
673 posts
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last online May 28, 2023 18:00:12 GMT -7
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Oct 25, 2017 20:29:34 GMT -7
Post by grey xavier slater on Oct 25, 2017 20:29:34 GMT -7
@cecelia Grey had no way of telling what exactly elicited Cecelia to squeeze his hand once again, but if he had to take an educated guess, it had something to do with what he said. Which was the comment on this being the last Quidditch match they would see at Hogwarts as students. The last match she would play in. Obviously it hadn’t gone exactly as planned, and while unpredictable as the sport could be, there were plenty of better results than this one. The days were ticking down, and soon it would only be a matter of hours until they were done here. He would be lying to himself if he tried to reason that the thought alone didn’t scare him. There was so much unknown out there, and they were expected to brave it before they were even twenty years old. Grey found himself nodding to her idea of getting tickets to a professional Quidditch match before he even realized it. The first thought was to go to a Ballycastle Bats match. They weren’t all that popular anymore, but the crowd was still enjoyable. Being an Irish team, their fans certainly knew how to put on a show. “Definitely. International is always fun. Best of both worlds with players going up against teammates or working together with rivals,” he added. Going to one together would certainly take the edge off of their jobs, at least for a night. “Anyone you know going pro? Could try and catch one of their games.” He could only imagine how terrifying the leap to the professional level was, compared to Hogwarts matches. A little support from former classmates could never hurt.
There were more ways to protect people than just through magical law enforcement. That was true. Then again, he wasn’t sure if his reasoning was even valid to begin with. He had convinced himself over the last few years that he needed to become an auror in order to prove that he was just as good as Claire, but that he also wasn’t her. Anything less than that was, well, a failure in his eyes. The drive was there still, though he felt that he could actually make a difference with what he knew now. It wasn’t about proving a point to his family as much as proving to himself that anything was possible if he put the effort into it. That should have been easier for him to understand considering the amount of time he placed into the school paper, but it took years regardless. “I know,” he responded after mulling over the statement for a few seconds. “That’s why I have journalism as a fall back. In case being an Auror really isn’t for me. But there’s no way to tell or not until I complete the training.” With the newspaper, whether he went to an independent publication or the Prophet, things were essentially run the same way the school newspaper had been for years. Modeling it off of the more popular papers had been the ingenuity of one of the club founders years ago, and that was also why it had such a great track record of sending editors and top journalists immediately into paying positions for the Prophet. He was the enigma here and that was fine with him. Like he told her, things could change. There was a chance law enforcement wasn’t really for him. But not trying at this point in time would be a waste considering what he had already accomplished.
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Oct 26, 2017 12:19:16 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Oct 26, 2017 12:19:16 GMT -7
Grey commented that international games were always fun, and Cecelia raised her eyebrows – which was promptly followed by a wince as the bruised skin on her face was stretched by the motion. She was surprised that Grey had suggested international games first, though she settled somewhat when Grey asked if she knew anyone who was going pro. Cecelia would have expected that question to come first. “Roxy Weasley is, I think.” Cecelia shrugged. There were definitely others, but as far as she knew, Grey wasn’t acquainted with the other girls that were playing professional Quidditch, since neither of them were in the Gryffindor house. Cecelia didn’t even know Roxy that well – and certainly not well enough that she’d want to go to the other girl’s games simply because Roxy was playing. She doubted the other Gryffindor would even care if the pair attended a game. Cecelia would much rather see an interesting match than one that one of her school mates was playing in. Not that the same match couldn’t be both, but as Grey had pointed out, international games had an extra level of oomph to them due to the twisted allegiances that came for playing for your country instead of your team. If Cece were to have played in an international league, tradition would dictate she play for France, since it was her home country. “No one’s saying we can’t do both.” She added. Time was likely to be the limiting factor, not money. Since Cecelia was now the sole heir to the Rousseau family fortune, money wasn’t a problem. There was, of course, the pride that came with using her own funds to purchase things but she wasn’t above dipping into the fortune that she was going to inherit anyways.
Cecelia nodded when Grey said that he knew there was more than one way to help people. As long as he knew that, she was fine, because it meant he was making an educated choice, and not just shooting in the dark. “You might not even need to complete the training.” Cecelia said fairly. Auror training was intentionally rigorous to make sure the one who passed were the best of the best, and Cece was sure that it was one of those things that either worked for you, or didn’t – the answer would be obvious in the first few weeks, after you couldn’t chalk your misery up to having a hard time adjusting to the new lifestyle. “My parents bought me an apartment to stay in for the foreseeable future, so I don’t have to go back to France.” Cece began conversationally. “You’re welcome to visit.” She wasn’t sure that the two of them were in a state where moving in together was wise, but she didn’t want her career, and Grey’s, to keep them from spending time together. Becoming adults didn’t have to mean the end of their relationship.
grey xavier slater
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grey xavier slater
HOGWARTS ALUM DAILY PROPHET QUIDDITCH REPORTER
673 posts
played by Colin
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last online May 28, 2023 18:00:12 GMT -7
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Oct 29, 2017 20:53:09 GMT -7
Post by grey xavier slater on Oct 29, 2017 20:53:09 GMT -7
@cecelia Roxy Weasley going pro. That made sense. She had the blood in her to do it. Not that meant anything anymore, but it certainly helped. Dedication and name alone still went a long way. Sometimes he wondered if that was the only reason he was being accepted into the auror training program. If that was the case, then the first thing he would have to do was stamp out any beliefs that he was just a second Claire. That comparison could never be made because they were vastly different, as much as Roxy probably was to her mother. No one ever wanted to be constantly compared and criticized for not being the same as a family member that went before them, even when it was in good faith. At least that was his view on the whole thing. He was his own person, which was sometimes forgotten by his parents, and at times, Claire too. They had beaten that horse to death months ago and yet it was still bothering him despite making their stances on it fairly clear. He supposed old habits and feelings died harder than everyone always said.
“We could do both,” he agreed. The only thing in the way anymore was their work schedules, and those were only a finite number of hours per week. Matches were already set up to accommodate the average working person, so it was the perfect storm to catch one or two over the summer. “Just have to find something that accommodates both of our schedules I suppose,” Grey voiced his earlier thoughts. He wasn’t exactly sure what a new astronomer would be subjected to, but the job virtually required evenings to get any observations done. Weekday matches, which would be easier on the wallet, were probably out of the question in that case. He kind of hoped training wouldn’t wipe him out for the weekends too. Things were going to be difficult enough at the start that weekends were going to be precious time to recuperate. Sleeping through forty-eight hours of freedom to do whatever he wanted would suck whatever life out of him that he had left. Hogwarts had already taken its share over the last seven years.
Grey hadn’t even noticed that he was staring aimlessly across the room until his head snapped back onto Cece as she mentioned that she had an apartment her parents had gotten her. That kind of thing – an apartment – hadn’t even crossed his mind yet. He figured living at home for the next few years, at least until it was a guarantee that he would be an auror, was a decent way to save money. It would prove to his parents that he was working hard instead of slacking off, which they had assumed the entire time he was in school. They weren’t always wrong about that. “I’d love to,” he responded. “That’s really generous of them...” Then again, the morbid truth was that she was also their only surviving child now. They probably felt obligated to do something to make up for everything else. He couldn’t help but feel guilty about the fact that his own sister had killed hers. That was still going to be a lot of explaining to do, the kind of which he still wasn’t sure he knew how to put into words. “Do they know about us?”
#GreyFor0.5K
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Oct 31, 2017 14:56:52 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Oct 31, 2017 14:56:52 GMT -7
Grey agreed that they could do both, and Cecelia forced herself not to smile again and risk more pain. He commented that they were going to have to find something to accommodate both of their schedules, and Cecelia nodded. “I think mine might be a bit more flexible than yours.” The good thing about astronomy was that it was cyclical – if she missed something, there was a good chance that she was going to be able to see it again relatively soon. While there were some special days and events that couldn’t be missed, those didn’t happen very often, meaning that overall she was freer than Grey, who would have to subscribe to the rigorous Auror training schedule. “I’m trying to think of a thesis to study so I can get published.” Cecelia said absentmindedly, tracing her thumb over Grey’s knuckles as she spoke. Just looking at the stars wasn’t enough to be an astronomer – there had to be studying involved, a sort of scientific process to see if they sky above could give any hints as to happenings on the earth below. Maybe, Cecelia thought, she could make a business of creating new constellations. That would certainly be easier than publishing something about the eclipsing of Saturn’s rings or something only other astronomers would find joy in.
Cece looked away from Grey when he said that her parents were generous to get her an apartment. There was still a part of her was uncomfortable with the gift, which felt somewhat like a bribe and a way to keep her far away from the family estate in France. “My family isn’t exactly poor-off, Grey.” Cecelia reminded him gently. It was easy to remember when they were all in school, and all had the same quarters regardless of familial wealth, but in the end there was a minority of students in Hogwarts whose family holdings exceeded the wealth of the rest of the student body. Cecelia’s family wasn’t stupidly rich, but she would have a comfortable life and money to pass on to her children (if she had children) no matter what occupation she chose – which was part of the reason she was comfortable in choosing the less-lucrative vocation of astronomy. Grey asked if her parents knew about their relationship, and Cecelia winced. She hoped that Grey would think it was a wince of pain, but considering she hadn’t moved whatsoever, let alone in a way that would exacerbate any of her injuries, she knew that hope was ill-founded. “I haven’t written a letter to my parents in months.” Since Desirae died, Cecelia and her parents hadn’t written. Even before then they hadn’t written much, either, but when Cecelia became the only surviving child, she couldn’t help but think that her parents had given up on her. The silence suited Cecelia just fine, since it wasn’t a demand that she come home or marry some pureblood boy. She wasn’t sure how much she could trust her parents anymore, either. She wouldn’t have been surprised if they, too, were a part of the Purifiers. In any case, the lack of communication with her parents meant that Cecelia hadn’t mentioned Grey whatsoever, let alone in the context of being her partner. “…Does that bother you?” Cece decided to ask. It wasn’t like she was actively keeping Grey from her parents, since she wasn’t talking to them about anything, but if it was a problem for her boyfriend, Cecelia supposed she could strike up a rapport with her parents again just to drop the bomb.
grey xavier slater
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grey xavier slater
HOGWARTS ALUM DAILY PROPHET QUIDDITCH REPORTER
673 posts
played by Colin
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last online May 28, 2023 18:00:12 GMT -7
WIZARDING ADULT
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Nov 5, 2017 21:44:46 GMT -7
Post by grey xavier slater on Nov 5, 2017 21:44:46 GMT -7
@cecelia Here they were, sitting in the Hospital Wing, close to graduating, making plans for the future. It hit him then that this was all real. Obviously it had been all along, but there was a difference between realizing it as things were moving forward and looking at it idealistically in the future. That was something he had never really done before. Little things, but nothing as permanent as this. “True,” he answered. Planning was probably something that would have to happen a lot more from now on. Especially when it came to their schedules. At least it sounded like his end of things would be relatively concrete. It would be a few years until he made it to being a full auror, if he even progressed that far, so his timeline of training would be the same as with every other auror ever in existence. That was one of the things the Ministry couldn’t skimp on. Not anymore at least. “Once you get published, you’ll have even more free time,” Grey said, positive of the fact that Cecelia would eventually have that chance. “If you put in half of the effort you used for your Prefect duties, it’ll be easy.”He knew that the Rousseaus had a considerable amount of money. There were times where he forgot that, and then others where it was apparent in the way people treated Cecelia. It really only applied to the Beauxbatons students and the remaining members of the elitist Pureblood families; the ones that were still antiquated in virtually all aspects of life. He had never really understood the reasoning behind maintaining bloodlines, ancestry, and basically marrying of children before they were old enough to voice their own opinions on the matter. Then again, there wasn’t much to understand as a half-blood, which is exactly how they would scoff and wave him away. The possibility of that happening was all in due time now that he was with Cecelia. There were only so many scenarios that could play out once they each told their parents about the other – Grey had a feeling that his wouldn’t be able to understand what was going through his head, dating the sister of the girl that had fought to the death with Claire. He dreaded having that conversation. They would say it was another act of rebellion, or whatever it was that they blamed him for these days. He called it being his own person. There was also a high probability that Mr. and Mrs. Rousseau wouldn’t take kindly to him for the exact same reason. At least their parents would agree on something in the long run. “Not at all,” he finally responded, breaking the silence he had maintained since asking the question. “I haven’t mentioned it with mine either. Never done this before, so I’m not sure how to even bring it up in the first place, considering…” he stopped, knowing that he didn’t need to elaborate on that any more than he already had. The other option was that he could be like Claire, and maintain a secret relationship until they were married. That had been a hell of an eye opener. The sound of a throat clearing drew Grey’s attention away from Cecelia, his eyes flicking up to see one of the nurses standing nearby. “That probably means I need to go now,” he looked back at the nurse to see her nodding her head in agreement. Standing up slowly, he gave Cecelia’s hand one last gentle squeeze before letting it go. “I’ll stop by in the morning. I’ve heard the breakfast the house elves bring up here is better than in the Great Hall,” smiling, he gave his girlfriend a small wave before exiting the hospital wing. [grey out~]
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