Ian Grimm

May 08, 2008 9:52 AM

Nothing like a cold to foster conversation. by Ian Grimm

Ian stumbled into the Cascade Hall unusually early. Despite his fastidious manner, early rising was not included in the package. His sleep had been without rest. He woke at least once every hour, disjointed dreams teasing dimly behind his eyes and his thoughts in disarray. He couldn’t place the cause of the poorly spent night; he wasn’t particularly worried or stressed over anything. He was a bit behind on a few of his plans for his first term, and already, it was nearing November. But that shouldn’t have bothered his sleep.

He fell into his normal station in the center of the Hall, the place all but empty as was typical on the weekend. Bleary eyed, he squinted at the table’s contents. As much as he loathed coffee, he would almost welcome it this morning, if only to clear his head from the fuzzy confusion that was nesting. He reached out for the platter of toast only to withdraw his hand. Listlessly, he allowed his head to fall forward until his forehead rested against the cool, smooth material of his breakfast plate. The dish relieved some of the fuzziness.

Dimly, Ian recognized that he might be coming down with something. It would explain the poorly slept night, the disjointed thoughts, and the aching joints. The reflection his bathroom mirror had offered earlier showed findings of the same sort: splotchy complexion, unfocused brown eyes, and dull blond hair that fell away from its usual three-quarter part. Wearily, he made a mental note that after forcing some food into his stomach, he would bother the school nurse for some Pepper-Up.

He lifted his head back up and reached out again for the toast platter, only someone else had made use of it. Dimly, and with none of his usual diction-precise tones, he asked of his table companion, “Can you pass that down when you’re done?”

Hopefully, once he had eaten and swallowed a few liters of tea, he might start to feel more like himself and less like a sniffling, newly turned twelve-year-old boy.
0 Ian Grimm Nothing like a cold to foster conversation. 110 Ian Grimm 1 5


Mollie Buchanan

May 08, 2008 6:21 PM

may be a bit groggy conversation though by Mollie Buchanan

Mollie had always been one to get up early and enjoy the quietest part of the day. Sometimes she would just read in her bed or head directly oustide to enjoy the day before it got too hot. Usually she'd wander down to Boston Commons and people watch, eat an ice cream for breakfast and enjoy the other early risers jogging or relaxing on the green. She also liked the quiet of the house before everybody else got up, but here at school she didn't want to disturb her roommates, so she slipped into some sweatpants and out the door silently. Hopefully they'd be awake by the time she got back from breakfast.

Dressed in a pair of old green sweatpants and a simple gray long-sleeved t-shirt, flip flops on her feet, despite the close proximity to November weather, Mollie hadn't even bothered to brush her hair before leaving the room. Luckily for her it fell into place as she ran her hand through it once, some of the shorter layers sticking out at odd angles like usual, her bangs falling just above her green and blue eyes. The hall was pretty bleak, some of the professors were up and a few students, but other than that, pretty sparse company.

Shrugging to herself, Mollie wandered over to a random table and settled into a huge plate of scrambled eggs, a couple of pancakes, fresh fruit and a glass of milk. The amount and variety of the food on the table never ceased to amazer her. It was a new and welcome change.

Glancing around the hall at the sunshine streaming in the windows, she hardly noticed as a boy sat down on the other side of the table, not too far away. Without paying much attnetion to what she was doing, Mol grabbed the toast for herself and started buttering a piece before she put the raspberry jam on after.

“Can you pass that down when you’re done?”

"Surely, sorry 'bout that." Mollie smiled warmly. The poor guy didn't look so hot, but she passed the toast plate his way as soon as she was done. "Feeling alright there?" She wondered aloud, forgetting she didn't know the boy; she had always had a profound interest in people and helping them when needed.
0 Mollie Buchanan may be a bit groggy conversation though 0 Mollie Buchanan 0 5


Ian Grimm

May 09, 2008 4:01 AM

And often unintentionally funny. by Ian Grimm

Dimly, Ian registered a response to his request and within moments, the platter was in his hands and the toast within reach. He selected a piece, squinting at it briefly, his attempt to distinguish whether it was wheat or otherwise failing completely. Reluctantly, he reached into his pants pocket and withdrew the slim rectangular glasses that he tried to avoid wearing as much as possible. Under normal circumstances, the frames would have been forgone entirely; as it was, he adjusted the glasses and gave his companion a proper notice.

He recognized her vaguely, another first year, although he couldn't quite place which house. Not Aladren, of course; he knew all of his housemates by name and history- his notebook collection had grown since his arrival weeks earlier. He couldn't help but blanch at the amount of food she had piled in front of her; he found it hard to believe that one person could manage it.

"Feeling alright there?"

He started to nod and then regretted the motion, a dull ache striking almost immediately between his temples. He surprised himself by managing a verbal response, and sounding almost friendly in it as well. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have avoided the interaction, preferring his meal times to be dedicated to the meal and not the fellow eaters. "Nothing a Pepper-Up won't fix, I'm sure."

He regarded his toast glumly, wishing that his stomach had the strength to consider cereal instead. The idea of milk, though, had his insides churning. Hot tea and toast would be best, he intoned mutely. "Thank you," he added belatedly, remembering that he hadn't thanked her for returning the toast. And then, almost as if an afterthought, he added, "I'm Ian."

If he had remembered his school robes, he would have gestured to the Aladren patch. As it was, he had barely managed to dress himself let alone remember the proper robes to don. His collared shirt was atypically wrinkled and his slacks clashed with the worn sneakers he had thrown on before leaving the common room. He rose from his chair to reach for the tea carafe, only to be struck once again by a pain above his eyes. "Sorry, but can you pass that down as well?"
0 Ian Grimm And often unintentionally funny. 110 Ian Grimm 0 5


Mollie Buchanan

May 09, 2008 7:27 AM

the best kind of funny by Mollie Buchanan

Tucking in to her eggs first, Mollie just smiled at the poor kid; he didn't look well at all. It was that time of year though when the sicknesses started. The change in weather always gave Mol a short-lasting sniffles attack, but she rarely got fully sick. One of her foster mothers had told her it was because she ate so well and was so active. Having never really put any thought into it, she just took it for granted. She was content to go back to people watching because Ian looked like he had a headache, but her ears perked up when he mentioned some kind of potion.

Potions were her favorite. "What's a Pepper-Up?" She couldn't help it, having just gotten into the magical world, she was still overly curious about its contents. "Oh, no bother." She said in response to his thank you. "I'm Mollie." She didn't recognize him as one of her housemates, she at least knew all of their faces, but he did look about her age.

"Sure thing." Mollie passed the teapot his way when he asked, scooting down a chair to sit closer. Must have been one hell of a headache. She wanted to ask him about other medical potions like the one he had just mentioned, but she assumed talking probably aggravated his headache. Instead she just went back to silently eating her food. "You know, if you wet a napkin with cold water and put it on your forehead it would help until you go to the infirmary." She suggested, that's what she usually did when she had a mild headache.
0 Mollie Buchanan the best kind of funny 0 Mollie Buchanan 0 5


Ian Grimm

May 13, 2008 11:47 PM

Especially when the joke evolves into an inside one. by Ian Grimm

OOC- Terribly sorry about how long this took in replying. You shouldn't have the same wait between replies after this. Sorry again!

IC-

Despite the way the toast seemed to linger in his throat far longer than it ought to- and despite the way the tea, once swallowed, only seemed to force the cloudiness into a concentration; despite this, Ian felt his senses return to some semblance of themselves. Enough so that he could register the need for another addition to his note keeping, under the heading of 'Molly' or 'Mollie' depending upon how she spelled it. He felt fairly confident that, given her reaction to his mentioning of the Pepper-Up, that she was a Muggleborn, or at the very least, was raised as one.

He broke a second piece of toast in half and dipped it carefully into his tea as he thought how best to explain it and not come across terribly condescending. He recognized that he had the slightest of tendencies to be especially impatient when feeling ill. “Pepper-up’s a potion that is a much more efficient and potent equivalent to an over-the-counter cold medicine. It works really well on removing most of the sinus symptoms and the like. Not quite as effective when you’re doused with the flu, but it’ll definitely make you feel more human with it than without it.”

His immediate reaction to her suggestion to jig a makeshift compress was to decline, however, his slowly regaining mental abilities recognized that at the very least, it would cool a bit of the fever and reduce the flush that he felt infused in his cheeks. He withdrew from his pocket an always carried handkerchief, monogrammed with his initials: I.W.G., and cautiously dipped a corner of it into the water pitcher. The lack of politesse involved in the action was not completely out of character for him; Ian was only one to mind the rules when they best served his desired end. He pressed the damp clothe to his heated skin and felt a small measure of relief in the touch.

“You’re right,” he acknowledged, his lips curving into a slight smile unconsciously. With that second piece of toast finished and half of his tea, a surprising interest from his stomach urged him to consider another starch. He plucked free a blueberry muffin from the mountain of grains nearest him. The bittersweet tang of the berries added just the right amount of sugar to encourage him to more conversation. He might as well find the answers to his later questions. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you a Muggleborn then?”
0 Ian Grimm Especially when the joke evolves into an inside one. 110 Ian Grimm 0 5


Mollie

May 14, 2008 6:00 AM

then you can laugh at it and nobody knows what's going on by Mollie

Mollie listened intently as Ian described the Pepper-Up potion and made a mental note to head for the nurse as soon as she ever got a cold. That potion seemed like a miracle, especially to kids who just wanted to be free of the horrible coughing and sneezing. She hated being sick and shuddered a little at the thought. But it made her wonder how these things were made and she made another mental sticky note to look it up in her potions text.

Eating silently while Ian followed her suggestion of the cold compress, she was glad it seemed to help. Her plate was mostly empty so she turned to the large pitcher of orange juice to pour a glass to wash it all down with. It would take a while for her to get used to all of this food. It was simply fascinating to watch it all appear and disappear as plates were finished and renewed. Her fascination also stretched to wonder at where the kitchen might be and how she could gain access; she missed cooking dearly and wanted to get back to it, baking at the very least.

"Oh you know, I'm not sure." She shrugged at his question about her heritage. "I was raised one, but I'm also an orphan, so I don't know anything about my parents. " Mollie had never been reluctant to share this information before this, but now that she had found out she was a witch, it brought up a whole new set of questions about her biological parents. "One of both could be magical, or I could really be a muggleborn after all." This new peak in her curiosity kind of bothered her because she wasn't used to it.

After what seemed like her twenty-fifth switch between foster homes she'd resolved not to worry about her real parents and enjoy the ones she had at the moment. She'd also learned to watch her emotions because funny things had happened when she was angry or upset. Now she realized that was the magic finding its way to the surface, but suppressing it had helped her move around less because those strange things no longer happened when she was in the room.
0 Mollie then you can laugh at it and nobody knows what's going on 0 Mollie 0 5


Ian

May 15, 2008 9:57 PM

WotW: And then there's the false air of superiority. by Ian

Ian's mental notebook continued its inscribing. To add after 'Molly' or 'Mollie,' were brief notes regarding her unknown background; as was typical, this unknown area piqued his interest. Most mysteries that came his way were easily solved. He could either wait until his dad went off on a business trip and invade that hidden room's innumerable cabinets for files that might relate to the mystery, or he could be more upfront about it and simply ask his dad to borrow said resources. The business of pedigree was, after all, an exceptionally involved one. A series of questions ran through his still somewhat numbed mind: Was her name one given her by her birth parents or one assigned to her? What was her blood type? Had she any heirlooms or items from her birth family? When and where had she been born?

And so on. He wisely kept those questions to himself. Once he opened his own branch here at Sonora, then he might offer his services. As it was, this first year was to be one of planning and information. He still hadn't decided on what sort of currency he would offer his services for. Bartering still seemed like the best choice.

Still though, it was curious. He propped his head up with an able palm and considered his breakfast partner. She was surprisingly upfront with her information; it was interesting- she was interesting, and Ian enjoyed interesting things. "What do you plan to do during the winter holidays then? Will you go home," he placed the slightest hint of emphasis on the last word, "or stay here at Sonora? If you were interested in how a wizarding family operated, then-"

He only just stopped himself from continuing with an invitation to his family's house in Massachusetts; he frowned, annoyed at himself that such a consideration had been so close to following. It was a particular aspect of his personality that he disliked- his relatively easy attachment to interesting things. Ian was certain that his family’s always on-call therapist would throw the typical psychobabble at him: only child, last in the family line, familial pressure, ad nauseam. During one (unwilling) session, the kook had stumbled upon a most profound and epiphanous conclusion: Ian Grimm needed a friend. Ian had disagreed. The only upside to the whole encounter was that it provided Ian with the proper incentive to pull off his second try at blackmail. A few choice words about extramarital affairs, a convenient photograph, and Ian was able to spend every session afterward watching the news and indulging in fast food. Overall, Ian rated the incident a success.

Smoothly, he recovered, his voice fluid despite his congestion and sore throat. “Then feel free to ask me questions about mine.”
0 Ian WotW: And then there's the false air of superiority. 0 Ian 0 5


Mollie

May 16, 2008 7:04 AM

and people wonder what's so funny by Mollie

Finishing off her glass of orange juice and leaning back, Mollie wondered at Ian's questions. She hadn't actually thought about what she was going to do at the midterm. Right now she was taking it one day at a time and learning as much as she could, but now that it was brought up, she supposed she'd have to investigate it. "Don't suppose I know, do they let students stay for the holidays?" That would be fabulous. Her last foster family had been great, but she didn't really look forward to fabricating an entire story about the mysterious boarding school that had offered to take her. Obviously she couldn't tell them the truth.

"It would be easier if I could stay, though my last foster parents were really nice." They had bought her new clothes and Binx, her kitten. They had been puzled when she had said a pet was one of her school requirements, but oblidged anyway. She also thought it was definitely going to be harder to find a place to stay now though, she wasn't too sure a lot of foster homes took kids and cats, maybe she could stay at school over the summer too. Or maybe there were wizarding orphanages and foster homes that she could go to. Her best source of information for this would probably be the Heads, or her HoH.

Intrigued at his invitation to ask about the magical world, Mollie bit back the flow of questions she had and chose one that was of particular interest. "What was it like growing up around magic?" She had done her fair share of reading out of the library, about the Decree for Underage Magic and other laws. Once she had found out about magic, she wanted to know all about it. Now she knew it was an integral part of her life, she felt behind of those who had grown up around it and didn't want to wait for lectures. "You knew what it was but you couldn't use it, was it frustrating?" It certainly would have been frustrating for her, but her biggest worry as a child was somebody making fun of her different-colored eyes, one green, one blue.
0 Mollie and people wonder what's so funny 0 Mollie 0 5


Ian Grimm

May 18, 2008 12:49 AM

But when you explain it, it's suddenly not so funny. by Ian Grimm

"They do," he responded automatically. Sonora was a boarding school after all. "I imagine you could also probably have a sponsor arranged for you- someone who took guardianship when the school wasn't in session, possibly even a professor."

Ian was not entirely certain what the procedure entailed, but he was fairly certain Mollie's circumstances were not unfamiliar ones for the school and staff. At St. Jude's, his primary school, the Headmistress herself had acted as guardian ad litem for a student, granted that was due to legal matters. The student in question had solicited the courts for emancipation; a Muggleborn, if he recalled correctly, whose birth parents were members of a cult that believed magic to be a curse from the devil. The whole situation had escalated and filled the Boston news, Muggle and Wizarding, for weeks during that summer. From the sounds of it, Mollie’s situation didn’t seem quite as dire.

“What was it like growing up around magic? You knew what it was but you couldn’t use it, was it frustrating?”

His shoulders folded into a shrug automatically; a fairly typical question from someone raised by Muggles only. “My family is not your average wizarding family,” he prefaced. “The Grimms are seven generations blood pure, but for the last three, we’ve lived in both worlds, with businesses in each. So, I was always surrounded by magic, but not in your typical antiquated sense.”

He paused, irritated that he wasn’t being able to word it exactly as he thought it. Another annoyance he decided to blame on his sniffling nose and raw throat. A tad hoarsely, Ian tried again. “That is to say, I had other things to distract me than whether or not I was allowed to use my wand. I could practice potion making, work in the gardens, or do normal things.”

Ian had always found it particularly silly of Wizarding law makers and their rules on underage magic use. The rules all centered on wand-use, and yet that was only one- still, admittedly major- aspect of magic. His mother was a die hard astrology follower and was always trying her hand at pseudo-love potions; Ian had been the unwilling participant in many a trial. And his father, when not fabricating some nouveau-riche wizard’s history to include a notorious black wizard, loved to dither about in the green house. Again, Ian was the frequent companion to those exploits.

He supposed he could understand the interest someone might have in such things, but for him, he really would have preferred to have been left to his meanderings. Research, market studies, potential business opportunities, and of course, the latest in curse proofing- all of which could have kept him very much busy and very much unaware of whatever frustration he was supposed to have felt. “So really, no. It’s sort of like driving; I saw my parents and other adults driving cars, but I couldn’t. I might have occasionally envied it, but I knew that eventually I would get to do it, too. Besides, my magic didn’t really display itself in a concentrated form until I was nine. That’s why we don’t start school until eleven; the magic hasn’t matured enough for us to properly wield it.”
0 Ian Grimm But when you explain it, it's suddenly not so funny. 110 Ian Grimm 0 5


Mollie

May 18, 2008 4:57 PM

unfortunately it does lose some of the appeal by Mollie

Mollie's eyes widened at the prospect of one of her professors taking her in for the summer. How awesome would that be! She'd have to get to know them and then approach the one who she thought would be the best choice. Keeping that little tidbit of information in the back of her mind for now, she listened, intrigued as Ian explained what it was like growing up with magic in the house. It wasn't at all what she expected, but his analogy made it easier to understand.

"I suppose that makes sense." She nodded, her imagination kicking into gear. What would it have been like to grow up in a magial household? Would her mother, had she been a witch, have let her play with potions in the kitchen? Would her dad have taken her for flights on his broom? Would she have had magical siblings? Suddenly whistful, she pushed those thoughts aside.

Curious about Ian's family and their generations of pure blood, she had to ask, "Are there a lot of other families like yours, who have stayed within magical ties?" She knew through her research that a pureblood was somebody who had an all magical heritage, a muggleborn was somebody without magical parents and then there were those who had mixed. "You know, through marriages and stuff, is that still common?" It seemed sort of olden days to her, but then again, she was still new to this whole thing.

"How are you feeling by the way?" Ian seemed to have perked up a little, without a Pepper-Up potion, but she didn't want to detain him with a zillion questions if he still felt miserable.
0 Mollie unfortunately it does lose some of the appeal 0 Mollie 0 5


Ian

May 20, 2008 3:23 AM

And I've come to a blank. by Ian

Ian readied himself another serving of tea, adding a drip of honey to counteract the bitterness. The hot liquid helped ease some of the soreness in his throat, coating it enough that when he next spoke, his voice returned to its usual smoothness. “Actually, my family is in a very small minority when it comes to Purebloods and their reasons for being so. If you haven’t already picked up on it, a majority of Purebloods are that way due to some medieval beliefs about magical purity and like. The Grimms have always been about marrying advantageously.” He shrugged, drawing again from the tea. “It just so happened that marrying advantageously has also included wealthy Purebloods.”

His family was an extreme minority to be completely truthful. Ian’s grandfather’s grandfather had needed funds to create the proper image for his budding business, and the money was always to be found in the old wizarding families. It just so happened that those same families were almost always Purebloods as well and neck high in second cousins who were also brother-in-laws and the like. The Grimms were young in terms of history, theirs could only be traced back six generations. No one had cared to note the distinction before then.

“And yes, it’s still very common. People still stupidly think blood has anything to do with superiority.” Ian’s opinions on the blood elitism were very much evident in the harsh tones. He thought it ridiculous for people, of supposedly sane and rational minds, to give the matter any credence whatsoever. Muggleborn or Pureblood- in his world, the only thing that mattered was ability.

He straightened, a touch surprised after the inquiry into his health. He nodded, slowly, realizing that he was indeed feeling improved since eating and talking. The Pepper-Up would be more than enough to kill off the cold entirely, he felt sure of. “Better. Thanks.”

His brown eyes darted to his companion’s briefly and then fell back to his grasped tea. Perhaps it would come across as overly presumptuous- no matter; he was curious and there was nothing for it when he was curious about a thing. “Have you had any run-ins yet, then, with students of that sort?”
0 Ian And I've come to a blank. 0 Ian 0 5


Mollie

May 25, 2008 6:01 PM

awww that's sad by Mollie

OOC- sorry the RL trip home from Ireland got me a little jet lagged and waaaaaay behind in everything.

BIC-
"Huh." Mollie said simply as Ian explained further about his family. She was keeping a little mental encyclopediea for herself about the magical world, cataloguing the information as she got it and tucking it away in the back of her mind. Judging by the tone in his voice, Mollie assumed that he didn't quite agree with some of the more pureblood thoughts on people of different social levels, which was good; she didn't really want to make friends with those kinds of people because she thought their thinking was a little backwards.

"Good to hear." Glad that he seemed to be feeling better, Mollie relaxed by placing her elbows on the table and her face in her hands. It wasn't rude because she wasn't eating any more. Manners were something she knew she had to work at. Having had such a scattered childhood, it was hard sometimes to mesh everything she had been taught together. However, since she knew she would be in mixed company, she tried to stay as polite as possible, she had never been raised, by any of her foster parents, to be impolite, but some houses were more relaxed than others.

Shifting in her seat to acclamate to her new position, she found herself looking up at Ian, a little startled as his question. It wasn't so much the question that seemed odd to her, but the way he asked it. "No, no problems." She smiled reassuringly. "I've just been doing a lot of reading and I know that those kinds of people are out there, that there are probably some here at school." Mollie had always been a kind of people person and she liked to think herself intuative enough to seek out those who would accept her, but in coming to the magical world, she had had to do some research in order to find out what the social atmosphere was like.

"Are there a lot of people like that here?" She was curious, because she thought that kind of thinking didn't really have a place in a school where all students were taught. But then again, she supposed that not everybody had to think along the same line.
0 Mollie awww that's sad 0 Mollie 0 5


Ian

June 08, 2008 3:06 PM

Yet not as sad as how late this reply was. Sorry! by Ian

"A reasonable amount," he answered after a pause. "At least, most of them keep their differences of opinion to verbal means only."

Ian- whenever he was unable to worm his way out of them- took his time at social gatherings to observe and record. Couples from the oldest families; couples from the newer ones- the bluebloods and the recently bought-in bloods: the whole of it was like a grand dance that had a basic pattern to the movements, yet invited the occasional interpretative motion to spice things up. Polite society demanded that their prejudices be kept to purely polite terms. There were never any references to the pogrom scourges of the past, or to the angry younger generation who wished to relive those days.

Still though- his brown eyes darkened briefly- those same polite, well-mannered people dressed to the nines and intent upon showing-up their neighbors with pedigree and purity; those same people would not hesitate for a second to dismiss Mollie regardless of how talented she might be one day or how kind she might be or how intelligent. For them, blood spelled ability. It was a mentality Ian loathed, and someday, when the family businesses were his, there were certain changes he was going to make.

"You'll be able to tell if you're dealing with someone who thinks like that," he advised, unconsciously donning his glasses to relieve the ocular headache forming behind his squint. "They'll probably be all politeness, but you'll still hear the insult behind the words."

He pushed up from the table after straightening his emptied plate and cup for easy retrieval, a habit ingrained from years of dealing with his mother's love for four star restaurants. Even thought the Prairie Elves used magic for their cleaning, the purely Muggle habit was hard to break as of yet. "I think I've ignored getting the Pepper-Up long enough."

He paused again, his hesitance driven by something other than his normal desire to calculate his future words. The words escaped slightly strained, perhaps because when he proffered his thanks, it was with genuine sincerity. "Thanks for the conversation and. . .the company. I'll see you in class."

He had intended his last statement to signal a close to the conversation, however, his inflection left the words hanging, as if requiring a confirmation. Still, he really had enjoyed talking with Mollie over breakfast. It had been oddly soothing after weeks of limited interactions with his house mates and stilted dialogues in class.
0 Ian Yet not as sad as how late this reply was. Sorry! 0 Ian 0 5


Mollie

June 08, 2008 7:23 PM

haha I had to re-read to see where we were! by Mollie

Tucking Ian's advice into the back of her mind, she knew she might be a little more cautious about who she approached at school. Mollie supposed she had gotten lucky with Ian, obviously he wasn't of that pure-blood frame of mind. Unfortunately Mollie was all too trusting sometimes in her eagerness to find friends. Again, she had been lucky, talking to Kaden at the opening feast, meeting her twin in life, Krisalyn and then Ian. Pretty good so far.

Watching as Ian straightened up his plates, Mollie unconciously did the same, still unused to not having to clean up after herself following a meal. Sometimes it was nice, but somtimes she felt bad. When she was in a hurry to class it really was handy to just leave you things and know they would be cleaned up, but Mollie had always been responsible for herself in these kinds of situations, it was strange not to have to do it, even though she wasn't thinking about it.

"Oh yeah, sure." Mollie grinned as Ian stood to leave. She assumed he was going to the infirmary to get his Pepper-Up potion. She was curious about it, but decided she could probably find it in her potions text. Besides, it was a gorgeous day outside, she should probably make her way outside and enjoy some of the sunshine. Standing up herself, she smiled at him again. "I'll see you around."
0 Mollie haha I had to re-read to see where we were! 0 Mollie 0 5