HARDLY WORKING ( OPEN! )

[gilderoy]

YOU WALKED INTO THE PARTY LIKE YOU WERE WALKING ONTO A YACHT

HAT STRATEGICALLY DIPPED BELOW ONE EYE; YOUR SCARF IT WAS APRICOT

The courtyards dotted around the ground floor of the castle were always a good place to take a bit of a break; catch the gossip as it trickled by, breathe a bit of fresh air, rest oneself after carting stacks of books and ingredients and knickknacks all over the place. Of course, early November in Scotland was a bone-chilling affair, with a constant frigid wind totally cancelling out any heat the whitish sun may have lent the land—even though it was bright enough to light the place up dazzlingly. Certainly bright enough to reflect glossily from Gilderoy's dark gold hair and the strips of non-uniform satin lining his Hogwarts robes. Against regulation, maybe, but ab fab. He’d managed to perfect the charm to sew them in all by himself, a dark blue-lilac to match the Ravenclaw colours.

Currently he was scribbling away in a book bound in light sage-green leather, lounging with his usual effortless style, goosefeather quill waggling and scratching away. He was supposed to be in History of Magic class just then, but he couldn’t really be bothered with all of that—besides which, he quite fancied he knew it all already. Today’s topic was nothing exciting anyway, something about domestic spells invented in Scandinavia and brought to Britain by the Nordic wizards… and not even going into the battles! He didn’t understand why they never studied anything exciting in that class. There had to have been adventures and defeats and amazing feats; people just chose to focus on the dullest things. The lack of imagination was simply pitiful.

Even though what he was currently jotting down enthusiastically could be called imaginative at best, when Gilderoy noticed one of his professors striding through the courtyard with a stack of rolled-up parchment in her arms, he flashed her a brilliant smile and his trademark roguish wink. He even pointed the end of his quill at her, as though there was no doubt that it was her extremely interesting and important homework he was working on. Instead of, say, works of utter fantasy. The homework would be done—only it would be done by an impressionable but smart fourth year Ravenclaw who desperately wanted Quidditch coaching. Even though he didn’t really have that many friends, Gilderoy always beamed at practically everyone that went by. There were many bad things that could be said about the self-obsessed seventeen-year-old… but on a positive note, he was always extremely cheery.

Once the professor had passed (having smiled demurely in response), Gilderoy turned back to his ‘work,’ tapping his quill against the parchment as he thought. A stiff blast of Highland wind sent his shiny curls of hair rumpling and several quills gusting away across the courtyard, but Gilderoy Lockhart hardly seemed to notice. This one was going to be a masterpiece, he was sure. The silky scarf wrapped around his throat, colours matching the homemade lining of his robes, wasn't the best for keeping him warm but it sure looked fabulous.

( wordcount 490 ) ( tagged open! ) ( notes <3 )

[wilhelm]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,margin-bottom:-4px; background-color:#000000][STYLE=width:100px; height:100px; margin:10px; background-image:url(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l536/CarCrashFaggot/Gaspard%20Ulliel/37gu.jpg); float:left] [/style][STYLE=width:229px; background-color:#000000; margin-top:15px; color:#f2f2f2; font-family:georgia; font-weight:bold; font-size:30px; margin-left:120px; letter-spacing:-2px; line-height:20px]you can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness[/style]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][STYLE=border-left:11px solid #000000; padding:10px; background-color:#f2f2f2; width:320px; margin-bottom:-2px; text-align:justify; font-size:10px; line-height:10px; margin-top:-2px]If there was anything Wilhelm disliked, it was boring classes. Arithmancy especially. That class was so boring, and it wasn't like anyone noticed he was gone in the first place. He was a seventh year anyway, his last year and he technically didn't even need that class. So why did they insist he take it? To keep him away from a free period where he could vanish for a while? Sighing to himself he passed a hand through his messy hair and paused so his eyes could adjust to the light filtering through the windows. It was such a nice day out, and he took a deep breath and allowed the taste of fall to settle on his tongue. Licking his lips he slipped down to the kitchens for a minute to ask, kindly enough, for the house elves to provide him with a pumpkin spice coffee. Luckily for him, they were more than happy to oblige the Hufflepuff student, and he sipped the lovely liquid as he ascended to the Ground Floor. Glancing around he stepped back against the wall as a small group of third year girls flew by him, no doubt Gryffindor girls rushing to class. Smiling to himself quietly he wandered, with no particular destination in mind. He nodded at passing professors with arms of books and papers, but otherwise kept his head down and out of people's way. Rubbing the back of his neck he licked his now coffee flavored lips and shivered as a gust of wind rolled against him. Stepping into one of the school's courtyards, he almost didn't notice his fellow student sitting preoccupied. It was only when he glanced up and saw the very handsome curly haired student, he nearly spilled his coffee all over himself in alarm. Though he knew if he stuck to the edge of the courtyard and didn't directly look at him, he wouldn't be noticed. It simply was how he was and how he moved around, and no one ever glanced twice at him. Though there was also that naughty hormonal part of him that wanted to flirt with this boy. Of course being as horridly shy as he was it would never happen, and he didn't even know how to properly flirt! He sighed to himself and sipped the coffee again, allowing the pumpkin spice flavor to settle on his tongue deliciously. After his fifth year scare he was so nervous of talking to other boys he barely talked at all anymore. Most of his friends were Hufflepuffs who he only saw in the common room anyway, and a lot of the people he even talked to were younger than him and needed help with something. He was so caught in his thoughts he barely noticed that he'd moved closer to the boy. He was clearly a Ravenclaw, which just scared him more considering it was a Ravenclaw that had previously rejected him, but there was something about him that was magnetic...[/style]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][STYLE=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font: normal 11px arial; line-height: 14px; border-left:11px solid #000000; background-color:#000000]tagged: gilderoy~!

[/font][/color]
words: no clue 8U[/font][/color]
notes:have fun! c:[/font][/color]
credit:[/font][/color] oxymoron @ back to neverland[/style][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[gilderoy]

YOU WALKED INTO THE PARTY LIKE YOU WERE WALKING ONTO A YACHT

HAT STRATEGICALLY DIPPED BELOW ONE EYE; YOUR SCARF IT WAS APRICOT

The difference between the two Seventh Years was simply remarkable. Gilderoy couldn’t act the demure wallflower if he were paid to. Why withhold his very interesting and important self from the world? He was sure that everyone wanted to know very much exactly what he thought on every little issue. That was part of why he wanted to be a writer, after all; so that everyone could read even more about him and how absolutely bloody wonderful he was. Sure, loads of his classmates called him an obnoxious prat, but Gilderoy rarely heard them over the sound of how bitchingly fantastic he was. They didn’t understand how difficult it was being a saucy sex god.

He too noticed the Hufflepuff boy, and seeing as Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were paired for a few lessons (much like, as ill-advised as it was, Gryffindors and Slytherins often were), he should have known who the boy was. Gilderoy particularly was always gifted with an aptitude for remembering names and faces—it was a Darwinian thing, passed down through generations of schmoozing pureblood wizards who had to constantly socialise at big wizarding events and galas. However, he found that he couldn’t really put a name to his occasional-classmate, though he did notice that he was being glanced at. Pah, well, of course he was. He was Gilderoy Lockhart. People couldn’t help but adore him, he’d never blame them for that. Being so flamboyant and fond of the colour lilac… and pink… there had been plenty enough speculation on Gilderoy’s own sexuality, but he’d never confirmed or denied anything. He wasn’t the kind to hide things, he just sort of existed—loudly and in people’s faces. One thing was certain, Gilderoy was not the kind to be ashamed of anything.

“Excuse me,” he called out with a dazzling smile aimed at the Hufflepuff whose name he did not know, almost as though he were going to say something lovely and bewitching, except he continued: “could you possibly pick up the quill by your boot? There’s a good boy. It’s swans’ feather, you know. I do like your boots, by the way. I’m Gilderoy Lockhart, but I’m sure you already knew that. Didn’t we have Potions together in fifth year?” And so the endless stream of chatter began. Gilderoy could talk anyone’s ear off: he considered it one of his charms.

( wordcount 380 ) ( tagged wilhelm ) ( notes yaaay~ )

[wilhelm]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,margin-bottom:-4px; background-color:#000000][STYLE=width:100px; height:100px; margin:10px; background-image:url(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l536/CarCrashFaggot/Gaspard%20Ulliel/37gu.jpg); float:left] [/style][STYLE=width:229px; background-color:#000000; margin-top:15px; color:#f2f2f2; font-family:georgia; font-weight:bold; font-size:30px; margin-left:120px; letter-spacing:-2px; line-height:20px]you can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness[/style]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][STYLE=border-left:11px solid #000000; padding:10px; background-color:#f2f2f2; width:320px; margin-bottom:-2px; text-align:justify; font-size:10px; line-height:10px; margin-top:-2px]Wilhelm sputtered, turning as he choked on his coffee and nearly spewed it everywhere. He managed to control himself and swallow down the liquid, licking his lips nervously as he glanced back at his fellow seventh year. Just seeing the smile aimed in his direction by another boy, who was also famous for having a questionable sexuality, caused his face to grow hot and his eyes with shock. He glanced down at his finely tailored boots, and bent down to dust his fingers over the quill. Delicately holding the attractive writing instrument in his hand he forced himself to move closer to Gilderoy, and yes he did remember potions with him that year considering he had to do most of the work, and held out his pale hand to present the feather back to it's rightful owner. "You don't remember me I'm assuming. It's alright, no one ever does." His voice came out a quiet purr, no one would guess that at the right time his voice could in fact drip like golden honey, though judging by how he acted he clearly didn't understand his potential. Especially with the light German accent he held courtesy of his mother. Leaning back he placed a hand on his hip and sipped his coffee, attempting to calm his racing heart. He hadn't had a proper conversation with a student from a different house in quite a while, considering his current fellow Huffies helped keep him away from the general public. "I'm Wilhelm, Wilhelm Flume nee Grimm." He was always taught as a proud pureblood to introduce himself with his mother's maiden name included. Most people recognized the Grimm name, the two brothers who were famous for their ground breaking research on magical creatures, and the fairy tales that resulted from their glorious adventures? He allowed himself a small smile, though his shy nature did get the better of him as his fingers twisted in his shirt a bit.[/style]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][STYLE=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font: normal 11px arial; line-height: 14px; border-left:11px solid #000000; background-color:#000000]tagged: gilderoy~!

[/font][/color]
words: no clue 8U[/font][/color]
notes:have fun! c:[/font][/color]
credit:[/font][/color] oxymoron @ back to neverland[/style][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[gilderoy]

YOU WALKED INTO THE PARTY LIKE YOU WERE WALKING ONTO A YACHT

HAT STRATEGICALLY DIPPED BELOW ONE EYE; YOUR SCARF IT WAS APRICOT

Of course Gilderoy noticed the choking, the blushing, the general dithering that occurred when he spoke to the boy, but he scarcely batted an eyelid at it. Well, to him it only seemed natural that people would respond that way to him. He himself had never heard anything from anyone about Wilhelm’s sexuality—he didn’t really pay much attention to gossip that didn’t involve himself and things he’d done, and even when he couldn’t help but overhear things at the dining hall he often couldn’t care less about such quibbles. He much preferred to focus his attention on exciting, brilliant, fashionable things. Reaching out with short, clean nails, he plucked his quill from Wilhelm’s hands.

“Well, that’s not the attitude to have if you want to succeed,” he said briskly as he tucked his quill into the back page of the journal he’d been scribbling enthusiastically in, not giving the boy a verbal thanks but continuing to beam at him as though he were the kindest, most fascinating person in the world. It was a smile that he’d never, ever had to learn: it came naturally to him, right up from his boots, sending a shining beam of light out into the world. It was a bit scarily bright, to be honest, and cheesy as hell, but bless the boy for always having a grin at the ready. “I do remember you—I simply couldn’t recall your name,” he added with a toss of his head, sending his glorious curls bouncing. Gilderoy too had been taught many aspects of wizarding high society, but couldn’t be bothered with it a lot of the time. He was special enough all by himself; he didn’t need the achievements of his ancestors buoying him up! (Besides which, the achievements of his ancestors were few and far between.)

He recalled the way that the seventh year timetables ran and suddenly his nose wrinkled a little bit, mischief clearly written across his boyish face. “Aha—you’re skipping class too, are you? Very naughty.” The quill he’d been using to write was wagged practically in Wilhelm’s face. Gilderoy didn’t even attempt to flirt; it just seemed to mysteriously happen whenever he was within a six-foot radius of anyone at all. And it was never particularly subtle. (Did he even know how to be subtle?)

( wordcount 370 ) ( tagged wilhelm ) ( notes <3 )

[wilhelm]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,margin-bottom:-4px; background-color:#000000][STYLE=width:100px; height:100px; margin:10px; background-image:url(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l536/CarCrashFaggot/Gaspard%20Ulliel/37gu.jpg); float:left] [/style][STYLE=width:229px; background-color:#000000; margin-top:15px; color:#f2f2f2; font-family:georgia; font-weight:bold; font-size:30px; margin-left:120px; letter-spacing:-2px; line-height:20px]you can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness[/style]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][STYLE=border-left:11px solid #000000; padding:10px; background-color:#f2f2f2; width:320px; margin-bottom:-2px; text-align:justify; font-size:10px; line-height:10px; margin-top:-2px]Who said he wanted to succeed? Well....everyone does in some form, but Wilhelm frowned and crossed his arms in a somewhat relaxed fashion. It was only a matter of truth, not like he was purposely down on himself or anything. While he was spacing out for a moment he didn't at first register the smile, but when he popped back to reality he blinked and was somewhat unnerved by it. Shifting from foot to foot he averted his gaze and coughed. Was there something wrong with Gilderoy? He seemed so....bright and happy and care free. His brow furrowed as he attempted to figure out the feeling registering on the tip of his tongue. Annoying? No. Irritating? No. He glanced at his fellow seventh year, his face flushing pink. "It's Arithmancy, I don't like it much. It's too much a nice day to be in class. Plus no one even notices I'm missing, I'm rather invisible." He stated this matter-of-factly and shrugged his shoulders. His nose wrinkled, and he turned and sneezed quietly into his elbow. Even imagining the quill touching his nose caused an itch. Shaking his head he sighed and glanced back at the - he found the word. "Self-absorbed." The Hufflepuff mumbled. That was it. Gilderoy was so self-absorbed he was surprised he even noticed that Wilhelm was there. Smiling slightly to himself in triumph he swirled the remaining coffee in his cup and sipped it, the last of the precious liquid sliding down his throat and causing him to hum pleasantly. Satisfied he shrugged to himself and began to turn his body, expecting that perhaps he had overstayed his welcome with the Ravenclaw. "I feel as though I'm intruding, so I can leave now if you wish."[/style]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][STYLE=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font: normal 11px arial; line-height: 14px; border-left:11px solid #000000; background-color:#000000]tagged: gilderoy~!

[/font][/color]
words: no clue 8U[/font][/color]
notes:have fun! c:[/font][/color]
credit:[/font][/color] oxymoron @ back to neverland[/style][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[gilderoy]

YOU WALKED INTO THE PARTY LIKE YOU WERE WALKING ONTO A YACHT

HAT STRATEGICALLY DIPPED BELOW ONE EYE; YOUR SCARF IT WAS APRICOT

Gilderoy hummed vaguely, propping his chin on his hand again. Oh, he agreed that Arithmancy was a total waste of time. Dull, dull, dull. But he had to think about the fact that his own absence would probably be noticed; after all, he brought so much to every classroom he entered! Oh, well. He was sure that he could talk his way out of trouble. He tended to be good with professors, who didn’t usually spend enough time with him to get severely irritated by him… though a few of the more straight-talking professors often dropped comments on his head and rolled their eyes at his preening.

“Yes, Arithmancy is rather dull,” he agreed seriously, though one corner of his lips was still lifting upwards. Indeed, Gilderoy was one of the most cheerful people one could ever hope to meet—and why wouldn’t he be? He was in the most wonderful of all states: he was in love! Hopelessly, endlessly in love with his very own self. “But that’s simply a given. History of Magic is frustrating because it has so much potential to be interesting… but they always focus on the worst topics.” But, as though it wasn’t something that tore him up too much, Gilderoy shrugged lightly and leaned back on the bench.

His attention had just slipped back to his own writing when Wilhelm murmured his brief description: a fairly accurate encapsulation, but one he didn’t quite catch. “Mm?” he hummed, glancing up from his ‘work’ with his round, blue-green eyes fixed on the boy. “Sorry? I didn’t quite catch that.” He didn’t really care that much—his own words were bound to be far more interesting—but it was always good to make nice with others. In a similar vein to that, when Wilhelm began insinuating that he was being obtrusive, Gilderoy waved his hand unflappably. He was always a friendly lad, perhaps a bit overly so. “Don’t be silly,” he said eagerly, “you’re right about it being a nice day, and nobody checks up on you out here like they do anywhere inside. Anyway, we should do something fun.”

And as though the option of great adventure had already been chosen, he snapped his book shut.

( wordcount 370 ) ( tagged wilhelm ) ( notes <3 )