» think of me, private

[Adelle Ashmore]

Now that many seventh years were drafted and exams were about to start, the school was getting really quiet. On one hand, Adelle disliked Hogwarts when it was so quiet, but on the other hand it was much harder to find a place to sit somewhere and read a book. Adelle longed for some peace and quiet, just to sit and read and don't wonder about anything. Yes, there were many things going on inside her head, but she never disclosed her thoughts to anyone. She knew that not many people are going to understand her, sometimes she didn't even understood herself, so there was no way she could demand that from others.

Yes, miss Ashmore certainly differed from her friends. While most of them thought of such silly things as looking pretty and boys, she thought about how her family is going to survive winter with the little money they have left for it. They overpaid for the house and her father's boss wasn't exactly the most generous one. Elle thought that he underestimates her father. No, she knew he does. Her father was an amazing man, intelligent and hard working. A perfect employee. So why wasn't he rewarded in any way? This was just outrageous! Adelle wished she could be a man and have a talk with that man. Why was her father so poorly treated? He was such a good man and yet, he was not treated as such. What was wrong with this world? 

This kind of question appeared in her head quite often. You see, she was an educated young woman and questioned many things. She did see the hypocrisy of her society, but kept her mouth shut. If there was one thing she was good at it was keeping the appearances. She would have never act in a way that would make her show bad manners, so she mostly kept things to herself, hiding them from anyone who might have compromised her reputation. In safe walls of her house she was free to express them and for now it was enough. Adelle hoped that her future husband will be a lot like her father in that sense he would tolerate her free-spirited nature. It was something her mother always worried about, that her oldest daughter will never find a suitable husband, because of her character. Elle never showed that this words had hurt her, she kept her head up high, as a proud witch was supposed to do.

Even that particular day, after a humiliating fight with her brother Adelle still kept her head up high. She needed comfort, but not from people. Her best friends were always books and every time she was sad, the girl would find in them everything she needed. The only problem was to find a good spot to read a book. Common room was not a safe place, people stared at her or distracted her by talking to her. No, she needed solitude at least for some time. So she decided to slid into the Room of Requirement, which gave her just what she needed – a comfortable sofa and a fireplace with warm fire in it. What more a girl can dream of? Adelle sat on the sofa, taking off her shoes and pulling her legs close to herself. She then began to read, getting lost in the fictional world. Ade was so lost she didn't even notice when someone else entered the room.

outfit

[Owen Sunday]

"Nasmyth," Owen grumbled turning down one passageway, his footsteps echoing through the corridor. His robes flapped like wings behind him, the rushing air of his speed walking propelling the cloth, though his face was thoroughly buried in the dusty pages of a book. "Raeburn," he continued in an utterance more like a whispered musing than a purposeful statement as his eyes perused each page. It was Scottish painters he happened to be looking for, specifically, though which one, he wasn't too sure. As with most of his lesson planning, Professor Sunday figured it to be just as easy to wait for an idea to pop out at him than to actually work to find one.

Portraiture versus landscapes-- it had been narrowed down that far. However, with as much as was happening in the country, and in the world for that matter, Owen couldn't help but lean towards the portrait painters. He found something deeply haunting and romantic about the way one's expression and manner could be caught and immortalized on canvas, the way a time could be captured forever. He wanted his students to be just as enamored with the concept as he, but finding a way to conjure such empathy and interest was easier said than done.
Which was why, as a split-second decision, Owen opted to pull himself from the hastened chaos of his classroom (though he had only his mind for company, it was becoming rather noisy) and embark on a quick adventure to the Room of Requirement. A quiet place to think, he had found the Room as a Seventh Year student searching for artistic inspiration while admiring the tapestry of Barnabas and Barmy, though the silliness of it hadn't sparked anything within him. The Room itself, however, inspired a painting he later sold.

When he came upon the stretch of wall behind which the Room of Requirement was concealed, he paced the mandatory three passes and it revealed itself. He didn't bother closing the book and stepped inside quietly, awaiting the silent inspiration. The first wall he caught sight of held a framed painting, a portrait he recognized as a Ramsay, and Owen smiled a sigh of relief.

"Perfect!" He exclaimed and turned to find a seat, fishing his quill from an inside pocket, ready to take notes and begin further research. Owen began scribbling in the book, a compilation of great English painters through history, Wizard and Muggle, and he lifted his eyes only for a split second as he approached a large wingback chair. However, in his periphery, he caught sight of another human body-- a startling appearance.

"Oh!" He recognized the girl, a student of his: Adelle Ashmore. "Pardon me, lass. Hadn't even thought I'd be encroaching upon another's quiet time. Mind if I should join you? I've got a little preparation to do for my next lesson after exams, and my mind isn't quiet enough to let me keep to my classroom." Owen gestured to the seat he'd been eying and gave a shrug.