Headmistress Powell

August 13, 2010 3:30 AM
Another year had come round, and a lot was the same: the Board of Governors was still questioning certain aspects concerning the running of the school, new first year students would still be arriving that morning, some more nervous than others, and once again Sonora was in need of a new Transfiguration Professor. Yes, these three aspects were predictable constants of a new term. Yet there was one aspect that Sadi had been unable to predict. During the family holiday to Romania this year (equal parts to visit the Valson side of the family and to appease Jera’s wishes by taking her dragon-spotting) she had contracted a virus – Neplac’s disease, a degenerative and aggressive illness for which there were assorted treatments, but as of yet there was no cure. As a generally optimistic and calm individual, Sadi was not experiencing great concern, as she had access to both Druids and Healers, but nevertheless she did have days when the virus was getting the better of her. Today happened to be one of those days.

It was customary for the Headmistress to Apparate to school on the first day of term, but she hadn’t the strength, and so had travelled from Colorado on a flying wagon with her daughter and other students, sleeping most of the way. She did not wish to worry her students, so on arrival to the school Sadi took a brief moment to scrutinize her reflection. Her skin was waxy and paler than usual, and dark rings around her eyes were visible but not too prevalent. Her once chestnut hair had grayed considerably over the past couple of weeks, but was tied, as ever, back into a neat knot at the nape of her neck. The Headmistress was wearing robes of a customary warm shade of brown, and wasted little time in returning to the Hall to begin the year.

“Welcome,” she addressed the school once they had settled, her voice shaky even with the assistance of the sonorus charm , “and welcome back to Sonora Academy. First years, your Deputy Head, Professor Dakin, is now handing you a goblet. Please drink its contents and you will be sorted accordingly.” What Sadi neglected to mention was that the potion in the goblets would change the color of the drinkers skin, and by doing so indicate their House: deep red for Crotalus, bright blue for Aladren, sunshine yellow for Teppenpaw, and muddy brown for Pecari. Usually the Headmistress enjoyed watching the sorting, but today she found herself too tired to summon the usual excitement, and when the first years had found seats with their new Housemates, Sadi found it tiring to stand again and continue her address.

“Now for our start of term announcements. I’d like again to congratulate our Head Boy, Thomas Fitzgerald, and our Head Girl, Jera Valson, both of Aladren, and ask them to collect their badges. I would also like to congratulate our new prefects: Alison Sinclair of Pecari, Pippa Brockert of Teppenpaw, Charlotte Abbott for Crotalus, and for Aladren, James Anthony.” Sadi handed out large, shiny metallic badges to each student as they came to the front of the Hall, and offered repeated congratulations. “Finally, we are again in need of a new transfiguration professor. I hope one will have arrived within the next few weeks; until then you may use your class time for independent study.”

With the announcements now complete, Sadi was greatly looking forward to retiring to her quarters. “Let the Opening Feast commence!” she declared, and instantly the tables were full of every conceivable delicious concoction, and the Hall filled with talk and laughter.
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0 Headmistress Powell Opening Feast 0 Headmistress Powell 1 5


Sara Raines

August 13, 2010 8:36 AM
Though she was one of the smallest people in the group, and by no means forceful, Sara had somehow found herself at the front of the line of first years making its way into the Cascade Hall. Since she wasn’t feeling nearly as nervous as she had expected to – or, at least, she was doing a better job of controlling her anxiety than she had expected to – she didn’t find that to be the worst thing that could have happened. It gave her a chance to look around.

The other students were interesting, but the bulk of her attention stayed on the staff table as she allowed her body to do the work of walking for her. These people were something infinitely more important than interesting. These people were the ones with the power. It was like having many mothers and uncles, all with equal authority, and a single father – the Headmistress – who, she expected, would be even more remote than her own father but therefore even more powerful if Sara chose to behave poorly and draw Headmistress Powell’s attention to her. Could good behavior, therefore, draw even more generous rewards than Father gave her? She doubted it, but it was worth thinking about.

She realized, just in the nick of time, that she had gone as far as she needed to and re-attached her mind to what her feet were doing to stop and turn toward the professor holding out a tray to her before she walked into the power table. Praying that her eyes didn’t give her away, she smiled politely and took one of the little clear cups, waiting until she was sure she was supposed to do so to drink from it.

The sensation, more than the taste, bothered her, but she refused to flinch as she finished it off and lowered her cup, holding it in front of her with both hands. Looking around to see if anything was happening to the other students, she gasped aloud when she noticed her nearest neighbor, one hand coming up to cover her mouth in embarrassment at her faux pas. The flash of her arm drew her attention away from her suddenly-blue neighbor and to her own suddenly-brown skin.

Potion. Of course. The potion had turned them these colors. She had known there were four Houses, inclusion in which was based on personality, and that a ceremony involving magic would presumably be needed to admit a student to one of them. This was the ceremony. The colors indicated their new Houses. Thinking back through the books she had read about the school since receiving her letter, she remembered that blue was a primary color of Aladren, and that brown and gold – which was too easy to mix up with the yellow of Teppenpaw for it to be used here, just as maroon was easy to confuse with Crotalus red – were the colors of Pecari.

She was a Pecari, then. She wasn’t quite sure what to think of that. Father was a Crotalus, as was Catherine and Uncle Charles and Aunt Ellie – actually her third and second cousins; Catherine was close enough to her own age to just be ‘Catherine,’ but Charles and Ellie and their sister Margaret and their spouses, as her father’s first cousins, were all called ‘uncle’ and ‘aunt’ both as marks of respect and because they were richer than Father and he wanted them to be fond of Sara and her brother Alan – but she wasn’t sure about Aunt Margaret, who was easily her favorite of them all. Mother had been an Aladren, but that was irrelevant to her at the moment.

There was nothing to be done for it, though, so she would have to make it work somehow. Sara wasn’t too worried about it. She was good at making things work out the way she wanted them to, because people were easy to work with, if you didn’t mind giving up something now for a bigger something later. She went quietly to sit with the other Pecaris, smoothing down her dark green dress and robes and tucking her long, dark hair behind her ears to make sure it didn’t fall in the food that would apparently be served shortly. One of the nicest things about getting older would be the permission to put it all the way up, alleviating the risk of such things. She had no more than a moment to look around the table before the Headmistress stood to address them, causing her to immediately focus her brown eyes on the front of the room.

The Head Boy and Girl, she decided, were like aunts: they had some authority, so she needed to please them if they encountered each other, but they were not as important as the mothers and uncles of the professors. That made the prefects cousins of about Catherine’s level: old enough and important enough to be respected, but not really people to worry too much about. Of course, it was very likely that they were all smarter than Catherine, so she would need to be more careful, but the principle was the same.

When the food appeared, she was presented with an immediate etiquette dilemma: to serve or to speak? Mother believed she was still too young to attend many parties, so she wasn’t sure if the rule was to get her food and then strike up conversation, to strike up conversation and then serve herself, or even wait until someone spoke to her before serving herself. Praying that she wasn’t condemning herself to social isolation forever, she sat up straighter and looked around at the thankfully young students nearest her, trying to make eye contact with each one and maintain a confident – but not improperly so; ladies were to be demure – smile.

“Good evening,” she said. “I’m Sara Raines, of the Illinois Raines’ – and now of Pecari. It’s a great pleasure to meet you all, and to be in your House.”
0 Sara Raines Opening and feasting 179 Sara Raines 0 5


Sophia Jamison

August 13, 2010 7:59 PM
Though Sophie had been away from her home for practically no time at all, she already missed her family. What was her father going to do without her? After all, Sophie reasoned, the only way he kept himself --and the mulitple kiddos at their house-- alive was her telling him when meals were and sometimes even fixing them. Still, the blonde couldn't blame him; when her mother died, he pushed himself not only through his two jobs but also took over his dead wife's. Now Mr. Jamison was a wizard, actively involved in the wizarding world, a muggle lawyer, and he ran the orphanedge. It was easy to see that Jacob Jamison was a busy man. Even slightly more than her father, Sophie missed her god-fathers. Lucky her, she had two. Sophie felt like all of these adult men in her life wouldn't be able to function without her. It actually took pursuading to get her to come to Sonora.

But now, here she was at Sonora, the tiny girl standing in a crowd of first years. Sophie wasn't really nervous, just.. anxious in an unsettling way. She didn't get nervous particularly for anything, just "anxious." It didn't matter to her what house she was in as long as she had someone to talk to; there was no way she could keep quiet for the year.

You're a liar, you know Sophia thought. You're so nervous, you could faint, couldn't you? Another part of her replied. You better not! Excitable Sophie, all four foot, two inches of her, trekked into the Cascade Hall with the other first years, her belly doing backflips.

The next thing Sophie knew, there was a goblet in her hand, and she was being told to drink. What's this going to do to me? she wondered. Maybe this is some sort of cult! Maybe it isn't magical school at all! What if they're poisoning us to "make the journey to the other world?!" However unusually paranoid cautious as she was being, she decided to sip it, and what follows shocked her.

She was brown! Her skin had changed color! Not that she had never encountered magic before --on the contrary, she was pureblooded. This was just... weird. She hadn't expected anything like this to happen. Then again, what did she expect? A sign to appear above her head that said her house? So, being brown meant... Pecari!

Shuffling along in a sea of brown first years, Sophie found her table and took a seat next to her fellow Pecari. It wasn't long before her neighbor spoke to her. "Good evening. “I’m Sara Raines, of the Illinois Raines’ – and now of Pecari. It’s a great pleasure to meet you all, and to be in your House.” That posture, speaking manner, and seemingly harmless smile were all things Sophie knew well; this girl was a pureblood, no doubt about it.

"Sophia Jamison, of the German Jamisons," she returned civially, her British half which she got from her mother completely clear as she spoke. Sophie had spent much time with people like this. Nearly all of her mother's side of the family were this way. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. I suppose we'll likely be roommates."
0 Sophia Jamison Sorting and sitting 0 Sophia Jamison 0 5


Sara

August 14, 2010 6:00 PM
German Jamisons. Sara’s eyes flickered slightly, but she otherwise didn’t betray her confusion because that was impolite. Besides, there was always a way to reason things out and make them make sense. Almost always, anyway, and other children usually weren’t complex enough to ruin the system. Only very old adults could normally do that.

‘Jamison’ sounded English to her, as did the girl’s accent, so it stood to reason that she was referring to very ancient history. A little pompous, in Sara’s opinion, but to each her own so long as Sophia Jamison didn’t demand that Sara go around explaining that her surname was a modern variant of the one used by her Anglo-French ancestors from Brittany. Sara had no objection to the French or the English or being descended from them, and planned to visit both countries before she left Sonora, but the people she was associated with, with the exception of Aunt Margaret and the maternal relations she saw less of, were from Illinois. Being associated with those people guaranteed, until she married, her place in the world. Her family went back a very long way, much further than their money, but that was only relevant when she was in Europe. This was America, land of fortunes two hundred years old or less.

“We will,” Sara said, deciding to take pity on the other girl’s ignorance. She knew what it was like to be confused by the customs of the other countries she had visited, despite the amount of study she had done before she left home each time, and liked it when people helped her out. “It’s the custom here for all the girls in the same House and the same year to share one dorm room. The boys do so as well, but they have a different room. Unless they’ve changed things significantly since last year, anyway. Most of my family has attended Sonora.”

Well, sort of. Grandpapa, like Great-Aunt Virginia and Great-Uncle Miles the fortune-maker, had attended Salem, but Uncle Miles had decided it was a good idea for all their children and grandchildren to attend Sonora, to differentiate them from the poor family they had been before Uncle Miles made all his money and Aunt Ginny’s husband’s broom company took off and Grandpapa became a successful Healer. So far, no great-grandchildren had been Sonorans, since Aunt Margaret’s grandchildren mostly spoke Spanish as their first language, but Catherine’s children would fix that soon enough.

Her third cousin Raines Bradley was here now, but Sara decided not to mention him. He could be…difficult, and she’d prefer for people to think his unfortunate name was a coincidence, not a direct reference to her family. She didn’t want to be judged based on him, not when she might still have Catherine’s legacy to contend with. Her other cousin was sweet, in an automatically rather than truly ideologically snobby way, and a loving mother and adequate hostess and good family member and friend, but she wasn’t very smart; when Sara had been younger, there had been rumors that her father, Uncle Charles, had been forced to pay people off to ensure that she passed enough of her classes to continue to each new year while she was at Sonora.

“I’m sure we’ll be very good friends before long,” she added warmly, with another smile. “Are you looking forward to beginning our classes?”
0 Sara Chatting and analyzing 0 Sara 0 5


Sophia

August 14, 2010 6:41 PM
By this time, Sophie had become supremely homesick, more than she already had been. She missed her father and their three homes, one of which --the California one-- featured the orphanedge. The other two were in Germany and England. Sophia especially loved the England home. Her godfathers lived in England, along with three of her cousins, the other three living in America. All-in-all, Sophie wanted to go home.

Sophie made sure to pay attention as Sara explained the rooming situation at Sonora, nodding to be sure Sara knew she was listening. "Oh, I think I understand," she said when Sara finished. "So you're a legecy student then?" She added in response to Sara stating that most of her family at gone to Sonora. "Most of my family attended Hogwarts, and I wasn't sure if this was different. Dad didn't feel Hogwarts was a good fit for me, and that's why I'm here."

Great, she was talking about her dad and her family. Now she was homesick again. I miss them so much! she thought, groaning internally. A random family thought reminded her that she hadn't seen Grandma Jamison in a while, and maybe she should write her a letter sometime soon. The poor old lady was probably lonely. After all, all three of her children were grown now with children of her own, and Grandpa had been dead for... a really long time. Dad, Aunt Anna, and Aunt Suzanne didn't visit much, considering they were all raising children.

But back to the present. Right now, the eleven year old was sitting with Sara Raines of the Illinois Raines, obviously a pureblood socialite in training. When Sara mentioned them being friends soon, Sophie couldn't help but think, Doubt it. Instead of saying so, she put on a fake, pureblood smile and said invitingly, "The best of friends, I have no doubt."

When Sara asked if Sophie was looking forward to their classes, she felt herself exhale, but she hid the reliefed out-breath with a cough. "I might be catching something," she said briefly before answering the question. "I am definitely looking forward to classes, especially Potions," she confessed. "One of my godfathers is an expert, and he's told and shown me amazing things." Sophia might have shared that she herself aspired to be a potioneer, but pureblood women weren't supposed to have careers; they were housewives, trinkets.

"What about you, Miss Raines?" Sophie asked calmly, openly. "Are you looking forward to classes?"
0 Sophia Making and breaking 0 Sophia 0 5


Sara

August 15, 2010 4:02 PM
Sara tilted her head slightly, confused, at the mention of Sophia’s father sending her to one school because he felt the other wasn’t “a good fit.” What did that even mean? Schools were not suits of clothes, and besides, Sonora and Hogwarts were, from all she’d read, very similar because of the founders of Sonora being Hogwarts graduates. Of course, there were stories that some of Hogwarts’ heads had been downright irresponsible in their conduct over the years, so perhaps that was it. Perhaps that was her father trying to be nice about the fact that their family school was a good place to get killed.

“Yes, I am,” she said, wondering why the need to reiterate what she had already made clear and wondering if she had just misunderstood a term. Legacy students, as she understood them, were students who had family who had attended the school before them. She had just said that. “I don’t expect favoritism because of who my relatives are, though.” Not that she’d get it if she did, probably, though it did help that only one of Catherine’s old professors was still here. “I plan to succeed on my own merits.”

She wanted to lean away when Sophia mentioned that she might be getting sick, but was too polite to actually do it, and nodded along with her enthusiasm about Potions. “I’m also looking forward to Potions,” she said when it was her turn. “My grandpapa and my uncle are Healers – Grandpapa runs a hospital at home, it’s one of the best in the country – so I’ve been hearing about research in the field all my life, except when I travel.” Her eyes lit up at the mention of her travels, but that wasn’t the subject, so she refused to get off on a tangent.

“Truly, I’m looking forward to all of our lessons. Mother’s hardly been able to keep me from stealing wands to practice with for the past year.” She noticed that her tone had become noticeably more formal. She needed to get this friendly, now. “And please, Miss Jamison – call me Sara. We’re going to be spending so much time together, and it’s so much shorter.”
0 Sara What are we making, and why are we breaking it? 0 Sara 0 5


Sophia

August 17, 2010 8:52 AM
Sophia couldn’t resist cracking a smile when Sara said that she planned on succeeded on her own. A lot of purebloods would expect special treatment because of who their families were, whether that be for pureblood reasons or family history at the school. But Sara wasn’t expecting special treatment because of who her relatives are, and Sophie interpreted that to disqualify both possibilities. This proved that, unlike some purebloods, Sara wasn’t just plain out prejudice, Sophie thought, just raised to the pureblood ways. Such an actress was Sophie to not exclaim happily that there was hope for this one. It did her heart good. Perhaps, somewhere along the line, she could subconsciously bring Sara to the other side, show her not all things muggle were bad, including muggleborns.

Feeling that just maybe she should be involved in their conversation, Sophie said calmly, “Ah, I see. Well, that’s a good thing, then. I’d personally hate if the professors tried to treat me differently. It could draw the wrong sort of attention.” Okay, Sophie had no idea what she was doing now. Seriously, what are you thinking?! she demanded of herself silently. You’re going to lose it! Oh, she wished her brain would hush up and let her converse without its approval. Sometimes Sophie just thought too much. Brain, I hate you.

This girl’s uncle and grandfather were Healers? Her grandfather’s hospital was one of the best? Okay, that was pretty cool, Sophia had to admit. That must be where their money comes from, Sophie thought. After all, those high-end purebloods such as her mother’s relatives and this girl here were typically wealthy, weren’t they? “That sounds amazing,” she managed. Then Sara mentioned something about travels. “Oh, do you travel a lot?” the blonde asked. “My father and I travel a bit, but really, it’s usually just between our three homes in three separate countries,” she added, showing off a bit. Sure, they also traveled to visit Sophie’s three wonderful American cousins, as annoying as they were sometimes, but why bother add that? It was less interesting. “Where do you travel?”

Sophie let a lighthearted chuckle of agreement pass when Sara said she was looking forward to all of the classes, and the laugh especially went for her saying that she’d been hardly kept from stealing wands to practice with. Sophie remembered when she took one of her godfather’s wand and accidentally shot fire through his home. If she had been any older at the time, she probably would’ve been in trouble, but she had only been about six, so they let it pass. Her father had just told his old friend that it was what he gets for leaving his wand sitting out with a child running around.

The good memory faded, and Sophie cringed internally when Sara asked her to call her so, but she kept her external composure. It wasn’t a name she wanted to deal with openly, having been her deceased mother’s name. True, Sara or Sarah was a relatively common name, and Sophie had sort of known there was no way to avoid it, but she had done well to since her mother’s death. She had been hoping that would continue. Oh well. Now she had to deal with it, so it was time to cope. “Of course, Sara,” she said with a convincing false smile. She knew how to smile, how to look happy on the outside when her insides could be falling apart. It was a skill she acquired due to who her maternal family was. It was simple to say that she’d had practice. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” It was a completely true statement, just not in the way it was supposed to seem.
0 Sophia My expectations, and I'm not sure why. I'm rather clumsy. 0 Sophia 0 5


Sara

August 17, 2010 9:01 PM
For some reason, Sophia's comments about special treatment made Sara think of conversations she'd overheard when Aunt Lila was present at social events. No one could quite come out and say what they really thought of her because of how powerful Uncle Charles was, but they could use lots of vague, ominous statements. Then, of course, Aunt Lila's only option was to reply in kind, unless they were clearly low-ranking enough to be made to look foolish.

Sara didn't know what Sophia's rank was, but she did know she had to live with her for the next seven years, so she couldn't make her look foolish. So, instead, she said, "I think everything has a downside."

She couldn't help a pleased smile when the hospital was complimented. There was no chance that her father would allow her to become a Healer even if she had the proper qualities for the job, and Sara didn't feel she had the right temperament anyway, but she was very proud of her family and what they had accomplished. She liked all of Father's cousins, but took after Father in feeling just slightly superior to them because her line had acquired their money completely legally after Uncle Miles' early contributions to get the project off the ground. As for those, well...They just didn't talk about those. It was pointless, and besides, most families got their fortune started in much more sinister ways than accepting money slightly tainted by association from their brothers. The smile deepened further when she was actually asked about her travels.

"As often as I can," she said, and kept her face smooth at the likely not remotely casual reference to having three homes in as many countries. "My cousin Margaret is married to the Head of International Magical Cooperation in Spain, and she's allowed me to spend time with her there and in England. My parents have taken me to Paris and Quebec, too." Those trips with her parents had been more about making her immerse herself in French, to prove how much she'd learned and how well she'd learned it, than about seeing the sights, but she felt no need to tell Sophia this. Besides, she had passed their little test with flying colors.

Being smart was the one thing her little brother, Alan, had yet to manage to take away from her. Everyone said that Uncle Charles' little girl, Isabel, was very bright, but no one ever really said that of Alan. He was overshadowed in it by Sara, who was his sister, and Isabel, who was only a few months younger than him and so his future yearmate. Since having certain anatomical differences from them apparently made him their superior in every other way in the opinion of everyone except perhaps Aunt Margaret and Aunt Lila, Sara didn't think it was too much to ask for him to let her and Isabel have that.

Father, of course, disagreed. He would not say it, since she was the Princess and he was bright enough to know she would be offended, but Alan's ability to be out-performed by girls - especially Isabel, who was rumored to really be Aunt Lila's love-child and not really a pureblood at all - was clearly a source of irritation to him.

Sara nodded graciously to the comment about not thinking to call her by her given name. "It's perfectly understandable," she said. "Just not necessary, since we get along and will be living together. May I call you Sophia?"
0 Sara I know a dancing tutor... 0 Sara 0 5


Sophia

August 18, 2010 12:17 PM
By this time, all Sophie wanted was for this conversation --this feast-- to be over. She knew that probably even after this feast, though, the conversation would never end. Sara was a pureblood, and as was Sophie. As yearmates, housemates, and roommates, Sophie would see a lot of Sara over the years, have many conversations. She hated putting on this false smile, arrogant attitude, pureblooded falsehood. Sure, she was a pureblood, but she despised being so. Some of her best friends were Muggles growing up; there was nothing wrong with them. Some of them, she had learned, turned out to be magic, just like her. They were equals. It puzzled her sometimes why purebloods thought so highly of themselves. They probably married their own cousins way back when there was only one thread of the lot. That thought embarrassed her. She was probably the result of a bazillion generations of in-breeding! Gross!

This time, Sophie felt no reason to disagree with Sara. She sort of was right. Everything did have a downside. For instance, Sophie’s dad worked many jobs and made more than enough money, which was amazing, but he wasn’t home that often. It was like her mother’s family, too. Sure, they were decently close and stuff, and she had a cousin her same age, which was great, but they were almost all, in Sophie’s honest opinion, bloody bigheads. Smiling with some sincerity, Sophie replied, “I definitely agree on that one.” Simple, sweet; an easy statement.

Sara’s traveling experience definitely peaked Sophie’s interest, but, as a “pureblood lady,” she kept herself calm and her face stone straight. The facial numbness had been the most difficult to learn, and still, Sophie could never manage to control the way the excitement flickered through those blue eyes of hers. “England’s so nice, isn’t it?” Sophie said, trying to control the joy in her voice. “My favorite of our homes is there. I’m hoping my father will take me to Paris in the summer, is it nice? And I don’t think I’ve seen Quebec. I expect it’s lovely?”

I want to go home… Sophie thought sadly. Mentioning her father again made it worse. Her homesickness was partially an unconscious cover for her nervousness of attending Sonora in the first place, which was weird; Sophie didn’t usually get nervous. This was a girl that could probably bungee-jump off of Mount Rushmore without a single nervous thought or bead of sweat. It’d be fun, she’d tell her father, who’d panic and probably coat the entire ground below in mattresses or pillows or something. Such a worrier. Ileum Spurn, godfather number one, would likely be stopping her or at least attempting. Godfather number two, Serapes Nevus, would probably be “strongly urging” her against “such reckless, meaningless self-endangerment.” And she’d laugh at them and then just jump, probably laughing as she plummeted., carefree and weightless, just like flying but without her broomstick. Hopefully for them, Sophie would never realize the joy of such action or proceed to take it.

Ah, the discussion of their formal name-calling. Of course, Sara couldn’t have known about Sophie’s mother, and it wasn’t her fault that she had the same name. Hosting that false smile, those attempted flat eyes that Sophie couldn’t stand giving or receiving, came her response. “Right. Of course, Sara.” Voicing her supposed friendship, Sophie added, “And of course you may! I’d be honored if you would.” Well, she didn’t know just how influential the Raines family was, so why not throw it all out there, suck up just a little bit? It couldn’t do any harm, but it could possible bring out a world of help. "I'd love if you'd just call me Sophie. Sophia itself just sounds so drearily formal."
0 Sophia Would that help? 0 Sophia 0 5


Sara

August 18, 2010 7:32 PM
Sara nodded her agreement on England, not missing the spark of excitement in Sophia's eyes. It was in odd contrast to her face, which was as immobile as any Sara had ever seen. So her new roommate didn't trust her yet. "I enjoyed my time there," she said graciously, "though we didn't get to stay very long. My cousin Juan was getting married, and I don't think his fiancée's family was very fond of us for taking her away. And they didn't know what to do with an American in a Spanish family."

A curious quirk of the pureblood world, one which a more than casual examination of history indicated that Muggles had even managed to avoid, was the tendency of the higher classes to intermarry among families from their own country instead of branching out. The English, perhaps because they had so very few true families remaining, were especially bad about it, though they had the least reason to be. Aunt Margaret, at least, would have none of it, but Sara had heard discussions about how it might be seen as improper for any family to build an international power base based on direct familial ties instead of the more general bond of magical blood. She supposed it might be at least a little the nature of power in play. Muggle families sometimes represented their governments, but no magical one, unless one counted the occasional vampire who insisted on remaining or becoming a count or countess and managed to commit a few atrocities before a team of appropriately-trained wizards could deal with them, had done so since before the introduction of the Statute of Secrecy.

"Paris is never quite as nice as it's portrayed, though. I think I liked Quebec better. The area we were in was very lovely." And Mother and Father had gotten to attend several parties, though Sara had been left with the elf. She wasn't permitted to attend most adult parties yet, as she'd only be in the way.

Sara had never understood nicknames, but she nodded anyway. What business of it was hers, anyway, if her roommate felt the need to be called by a French form of the name instead of the Greek? "Of course," she said, and smiled at a thought. "Sara means 'princess,'" she said, "and Sophia and Sophie mean 'wisdom.' Yours is a better omen. I wonder if we'll live up to them?"
0 Sara With the clumsiness, I think. 0 Sara 0 5