Lucien "Luc" Lefevre | 24 | He/Him| Male | 2nd Year Spring Student| Homosexual| Tags: Theodore, Sirenn
Lucian glanced up as the door creaked open, his eyes meeting Sirenn’s tentative form. His quiet greeting caught him just as he was shifting his weight, about to stand. A small smile tugged at his lips. The other boy's hesitation was clear. He had always been a bit like this—shy, careful not to step on anyone's toes. Lucian could relate to that.
“Hey,” he replied with a casual tone, offering a reassuring nod. “Don’t worry about it. You’re not interrupting anything.” He gestured to the empty space beside him and Theodore, the quiet hum of their previous conversation fading into the background.
Theo's reaction was a little more… animated. Luc couldn't help but chuckle softly under his breath at his friend's surprised yelp. Theodore was always a bit wrapped up in his own world, and while it was endearing, Lucian sometimes had to give him a gentle nudge back into reality. Still, he didn’t mind. It felt right having someone who was so present, so... sincere. Like he really *saw* people.
His eyes flicked back to Sirenn, then to Theodore, offering a soft shrug. “The room’s not too full. You don’t need to stand in the doorway.”
The warmth of the space, of Theo’s scattered drawings, and the quiet hum of conversation always felt inviting, even when it was just the two of them. Lucian wasn’t one to dwell on the "what ifs," but it was nice when people seemed to naturally find their place among them. Even Sirenn.
Lila Whitmore|20|She/Her|Female| Winter 1st Year |Demisexual|Tags:Mildred, Horace
Lila glanced over her shoulder, surprised to hear her name spoken by someone she didn’t immediately recognize. She’d noticed the older woman—Mildred—before, mostly because the gentle hum of her presence seemed to quietly stand out amid the clamor of more boisterous students. But she hadn’t expected a greeting, especially not one so warm. The older woman was bundled up in a mint shawl that, despite the scorch marks and messy hair, made her seem both endearing and slightly out of place in the bustling dining hall.
Lila gave a soft, polite smile, offering a small nod. "Of course, Mildred. Please, sit with me." She motioned toward the seat across from her.
Then, she turned her attention to the newcomer, a tall young man with a friendly smile. Horace, he said his name was. "Thank you, Horace," she replied with a hint of curiosity. "I’m Lila, and yes, I’m still getting used to all of this." She let out a small laugh. "But I’m sure we’ll all get the hang of it eventually, right?" Her eyes flicked to Mildred for confirmation, though she wasn’t quite sure if the older woman shared the same optimism yet.
Lila helped herself to a generous spoonful of the stew, the steam curling up in front of her face like a welcome embrace. She gestured toward the empty seat next to her, inviting Horace to sit as well. "There’s no harm in sitting together. Sometimes it’s nice to have a little company." Her tone was light, casual, as she tried to ease the tension that seemed to hang in the air around Mildred. She could sense the uncertainty in the older woman’s eyes, but didn’t want to press. Everyone was still finding their way.
Kai Avery | 23 |He/Him| Male| Summer 2nd Year| Pansexual| Tags: open
Kai walked into the dining hall, his usual confident stride making him easy to spot among the crowd. The midday hustle had just begun to settle into a more relaxed rhythm, and the smell of food was starting to overpower the chatter. His sun-kissed skin and tousled blond hair caught the light, and he couldn’t help but grin as he took in the scene. He had already been through a morning of classes and practice, and now it was time to unwind for a bit.
The forest green and ocean blue of his track uniform stood out against the sea of robes and more formal attire, the colors a stark contrast to his golden skin. He grabbed a tray and surveyed the food options, his stomach already rumbling in anticipation.
“Stew, huh?” he muttered to himself with a raised eyebrow, eyeing the hearty pot. He couldn’t help but wonder how spicy it was—after all, he’d always had a bit of a competitive streak when it came to handling the heat. Without hesitation, he slid closer to the counter, a playful grin tugging at his lips as he decided that today was definitely a day for something bold.
Headmistress Isolde Hawke | 42 | She/Her| Female | Role: Headmistress of Featherwick |Bisexual | Tags: Clara, Peregrine
The knock on Isolde’s door was more forceful than she expected. She was sitting behind her desk, a stack of parchment before her—unfinished notes, some needing revisions. The morning had been filled with the usual demands: reports from the various heads of houses, follow-ups on student progress, and brief moments of reflection on the state of things at Featherwick.
She heard Clara’s quick steps outside the door, betraying a sense of urgency that was all too familiar. The Head of Summer was still settling into her role as an instructor, and though her passion for teaching radiated, Clara often got tangled in the whirlwind of everything else. Isolde couldn’t blame her—teaching at Featherwick was a monumental task, especially amid the unease that hung just beyond the school's walls.
“Come in, Clara,” Isolde called, her voice steady but warm, meant to offer her a moment of calm amidst the chaos.
The door creaked open, and Clara stood in the threshold, flushed with a mix of exertion and nervousness. Her dress was slightly askew, her red hair hastily pulled into a messy ponytail. Isolde could sense the slight panic in Clara’s eyes, though it was clear that her concern was more about her own perceived disorganization than anything else.
“You’re not late, Clara. Don’t worry. I imagine the start of the term has been keeping you on your toes,” Isolde said, a gentle smile playing at her lips. She gestured for Clara to sit, offering her a comforting space to gather her thoughts. “I trust your classes are going well so far, despite the... occasional hiccups?”
Before Clara could respond, another knock echoed through the office. Isolde looked up to see Peregrine standing in the doorway, his characteristic grin softening his sharp features. He held a tin of lavender shortbread in his hand—an offering that never failed to bring a bit of lightness to any room.
“Ah, Peregrine, come in,” Isolde said, motioning for him to enter. “Perfect timing as always. I was just catching up with Clara here.”
Peregrine’s presence always had a calming effect on Isolde. There was a certain steadiness to him, even amidst the chaos of the school year. She couldn’t help but appreciate how well he balanced his responsibilities, especially as the potions instructor.
She turned to Clara with a small, knowing smile. “I’m sure you’ve met Peregrine before. He’s quite the expert on keeping things interesting around here.” Her tone was light and playful, but there was genuine respect in her words. She trusted Peregrine implicitly—his ability to care for both his students and the faculty was invaluable.
With both Clara and Peregrine now present, Isolde felt the weight of the meeting beginning to settle over her. She took a breath, her thoughts gathering for the matters at hand.
“Shall we begin?” she asked, glancing between the two of them. Whatever awaited them, she knew they would face it together.