I come bearing gifts (Tag Professor Brooding and Ailuros) on Potions

Dorian Montoir

September 22, 2019 10:16 AM

I come bearing gifts (Tag Professor Brooding and Ailuros) by Dorian Montoir

Dorian hung back after the first class of term, a slight smile on his face that suggested he knew he was being entirely predictable here. So what? He was feeling optimistic enough not to really care what anyone else read into his behaviour, only that it was nice to be reunited with friends. He waited for the rest of the class to filter out before crossing to Professor Brooding and Ailuros, greeting his teacher with a hug and her pet with an affectionate stroke. He didn’t really need to ask whether a hug was okay any more, it was just taken as standard, and he was pretty sure if his sister’s thoughts about them hadn’t been enough to suggest he was getting too big for that and there needed to be ‘boundaries’ then that point was never coming. He guessed it probably helped that Professor Brooding knew those kind of thoughts were never going to be crossing his mind. Being who he was came with a heck of a lot of problems, but he guessed it had its plus points too. Hugs as standard was definitely a nice place to be.

“I have things for you,” he declared, opening his satchel and pulling out a trio of brightly wrapped presents, “For you,” he declared, handing a pair to Professor Brooding, “And you,” he added, placing one down in front of Ailuros. He had wrapped hers more loosely, so that if she got whiff of the catnip stuffed mouse inside, she might well be able to get at it without help. “And for…” English lacked a plural ‘you’ to make the remark distinctive, so he merely gestured to the words on the front of the card he had also pulled out, which read ‘Les Deux Professeurs Brooding-Hawthorne.’ He had felt a little bit self-conscious carrying that around all day. Luckily, his satchel had a little area where he could tuck a document that he wanted to keep separate and private from the rest, so he had safely stowed it there, thus avoiding the risk that he’d pull it out by accident with his spare parchment or his homework. Rationally, he knew it was not going to leap out of his satchel of its own accord and start dancing on his desk (a fact he could be ninety percent certain of, even with the unpredictability of magic, given that he didn’t want that to happen at all) but it felt like carrying a secret, in the much more literal sense than usual, and he was relieved to hand it over. He had got the card from the art section of the store, blank and ready to be turned to any occasion, because he knew from trying to buy a wedding card last year that, where he lived anyway, everything targeted at couples featured nothing but women paired with men. Pretty much all of them, he had noticed, were white too. It was horribly depressing to look through row upon row of cards and be told that the only way in which human sexuality varied was the hair colour of the bride. People like him existed. People like him existed, and were damn well going to get married, and deserved cards too. Perhaps anniversary cards wouldn’t have been so bad, would have just featured flowers or abstract images, but he knew they intended them for straight people and resented it. He’d found a card with a nice sunset over a beach, and that was better anyway. It felt a little weird sending a card to Professor Hawthorne because he still didn’t know her that well - he knew Professor Xavier better, and it wasn’t like he gave him anniversary cards - but he couldn’t exactly just send an anniversary card to one half of a couple, and he very much wanted to celebrate Professor Brooding’s anniversary.

“You can open your presents,” he advised, because these were just for her and Ailuros. He had decided it was weirder if he got Professor Hawthorne one than didn’t, and that Christmas and their anniversary didn’t have to be intrinsically linked just because they had happened so close together. Both parcels were rectangular, though one was much deeper than the other. It contained a box full of maple syrup flavoured buttercream cookies. Some form of maple syrup gift was getting pretty traditional for winter break at this point. The other was a small book, detailing the contents of the Potions room in the Québec Magical Museum. Dorian had often looked over the little museum guides, available in a variety of languages, and wondered what the point was - why someone wouldn’t just go to the museum. Or, if they had been, why they would need it in book form. However, as he had wandered through the museum, that particular room of course calling his favourite professor to mind, he had realised how very unlikely it was that she would ever find herself there. Well, that perhaps was unreasonable - Québec was a lovely place to visit. But she wasn’t exactly going to come and see him there during the holidays. That was one of those lines that wouldn’t easily get crossed. This felt like a nice way of showing her the place that meant so much to him - the museum, in particular, being somewhere he had gone a lot.

“Did you have a nice anniversary?” he asked.

13 Dorian Montoir I come bearing gifts (Tag Professor Brooding and Ailuros) 1401 Dorian Montoir 1 5

Professor Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

September 22, 2019 3:07 PM

You are a gift yourself! by Professor Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

Mary was still not used to the fact that a student cared enough about her to hang back after class. She supposed she should have been considering it was mutual fondness that kept Dorian Montoir in class, but it still made Mary feel a pleasant swirl of nerves and pleasure. She was always glad to play a role in someone's life, and she was always afraid that it was because no one else had been willing to play that role for them. The fact that Dorian had apparently also remembered Mary's anniversary made the nerves dissolve and the pleasure grow; she felt cared for and loved, which was not something many teachers got to say of their student relationships.

Mary returned the hug with a grin, surprised still at how much Dorian was growing inside and out, and then released him. "It's good to see you."

Ailuros got to her present first. Offering Dorian a loving nip and a quick rub of her face on his hand, she tore into the package with surprising grace and ferocity, swiftly rolling around on and with the toy mouse. She paused for a moment to blink up at Dorian, the closest thing a creature like Ailuros could get to saying thank you, and went about her play time.

"That's so sweet of you, Dorian," Mary cooed, happy to see Ailuros enjoying herself, and happy to be thought of. She didn't know enough French to say for sure what the front of the card said, but it was a safe guess that "Les Deux" was two, and Mary chuckled at the address. "Tabitha will be very grateful too," she assured him.

Mary often wondered whether Tabitha was jealous of the relationship Mary had with Dorian, and with other students, but she suspected that her wife was just so glad not to have to engage with humans as much as with creatures that she didn't mind. Besides, Tabitha was a bit more like Ailuros than she let on, and a contented blink went a long way for the both of them.

Mary obliged and opened her gifts, letting out an excited chirp to find cookies inside. Before opening the second gift, she turned to set a kettle boiling and retrieved tea options, deciding that hot chocolate might be the wrong choice for something that was already flavored so deliciously. She took one cookie and began nibbling at it as she waited, and opened the second parcel.

"These are delicious," she told him. "Thank you so much." When the second gift was opened, her eyes lit up and she thanked him again. "Dorian, this is so thoughtful!"

She flipped through it for just a moment, knowing that it would be rude to just begin reading the entire thing right now, but also wanting to make sure he knew how appreciated the gift really was. "I'd love to visit this place someday. Wow. Thank you so much, Dorian."

"I have gifts for you as well," she smiled. It felt a bit odd to get a gift for one student and not the others, but her relationship with Dorian was undeniably different than with other students, and she'd gotten small somethings for each of her assistants too, so it wasn't terribly outlandish. "It isn't perfect, as it's a skill I've been working on with only some success, but the charm and potion should work just fine."

She retrieved a hard tube, inside which a fabric scroll was rolled up and placed. Upon it, simple paintings of three plants were depicted in the same style that Tabitha had used for her field notes. With an emphasis on accuracy and detail, there was something adventurous about the lines there, despite the fact that they were obviously not painted by someone with the experience Tabitha had. The first plant was a succulent native to the desert surrounding Sonora; the second was a hawthorn flower as might grow in parts of Canada; and the third was a dove tree flower, from China. Each was moving lightly as if in an invisible breeze. The succulent had sharp shadows and highlights, as if in a bright sunshine, whereas the other two were more subtle, as if under a cloudy sky.

"I didn't have the precise locations for where your family is in China or Canada, so those two are based on the weather in the capital cities of each right now. They'll change and move, although I suspect the Arizona one will always be pretty sunny," she explained once he'd opened it and had a moment to take it in. "Tabitha's artwork inspired me and I thought you might like something from your different homes. You can hang it up or just pull it out when you want to see it."

22 Professor Mary Brooding-Hawthorne You are a gift yourself! 1424 Professor Mary Brooding-Hawthorne 0 5

Dorian

September 23, 2019 6:46 AM

It's true. But cookies and books are good too. by Dorian

"Méi wèntí, Xiǎo Ài," Dorian assured both kneazle and owner, as Ailuros rubbed against his hand and Professor Brooding translated the gratitude. "No problem," he translated himself. He figured it was obvious from context but sometimes it was nice to get exact words or confirmation. He smiled at being called sweet, and was glad that she thought Professor Hawthorne would be grateful. It was still very weird to hear her called 'Tabitha.'

"I would like that too," he nodded, when she talked about visiting the museum. He decided not to point out that that might be complicated or a long way off because he suspected they both knew that, and it was nicer to focus on the happier parts right now instead. "Until then, you have the book though," he smiled, "I spend a lot of time there - present tense still correct," he clarified, "And did spent when I was smaller too. I used to think the Chinese room had more information than all the others because Mama would tell me so many things there, and in other rooms just a few words - it is a pot, it is from this year. Then I learned to read the labels myself and that it was not that way. She was telling me things she knew. I was a little bit sad when I realised because I thought the museum thought those things were extra special. I mean, it wouldn't make any sense," he added, wanting to make it clear he didn't still feel that way - it had just been one of those moments where the childish and fallible logic around which we build our worlds, based on was central to us, had been forced to confront reality and had come off better informed but with its feelings slightly the worse for the encounter, "but it was back before I could read so," he shrugged, pretty sure children of whatever age that had been were not famed for their robust logic.

He was intrigued as Professor Brooding informed him his present was home-made again, and admitted to it not being perfect. That was a struggle he knew well, as he always handmade Jehan's presents, frequently frustrating himself in the process. It was strange to hear an adult admit to not doing something perfectly, and to be willing to share something they felt that way about with him. Whilst he was a strict critic with himself, and wanted absolute perfection before he would hand over or display anything he had made, it struck him totally differently when coming from someone else. He appreciated the vulnerability - that Professor Brooding was willing to let him in as she learnt, rather than just hiding away, trying to be finished and polished and perfect. Of course, there was every possibility that she was being modest, because when he unrolled the picture, he could not see a single flaw. Of course, there was every possibility that his eyes were incredibly biased.

"It's beautiful," he assured her. As she had done with the book, he took a long moment to let his eyes wander appreciatively over each line, and to watch the flowers move in their enchanted breezes. "It's all of me, on one page," he echoed her explanation, running his fingers down the paper. Here he was. He was real. He existed, and someone saw him. Yes, she was his friend, and that knowledge was not new or surprising, but it helped. It helped so much to have someone put it down on a page when no one else would. "All my places," he added, because he supposed there was more to him than the places he was from - and the place he had come to, he thought, his fingers returning to linger an extra moment on the little desert plant, happy that Sonora was included as one of his homes. It most definitely qualified.

"Thank you. I love it," he said, and there was no room for doubting that he meant that. "I will hang it up," he assured her. He knew she hadn't necessarily been asking but he thought it was nice for her to know. He liked being able to imagine presents he had given going about their daily lives, becoming nestled and embedded in the places they were meant to occupy, as they became possessions in addition to gifts. He could picture Tatya's combs in her jewellery box, or the paper cranes which he hoped still flapped their wings above Jehan's head as he slept or stared at his canopy, and it made him feel happy. Partly it was the happiness of existing in their lives, and knowing they might think about him. He certainly couldn't deny that he spent time lying in his bed in Teppenpaw hoping, or maybe wishing, that Jehan was doing the same about him. But even if his friends were to lose their memories of who had given them the gifts, something he had done existed in their lives and, he hoped, made them happy. That was the point, and it was enough to know that he added to their happiness, even if they were to stop giving him the credit for it. And it allowed him to imagine something solid about the closed off parts of their lives that happened without him. All of that was pleasant and reassuring.

He carefully rolled the picture back up, so that it would not risk getting tea spilt on it, although as soon as it was gone, he found he wanted to look at it again, convinced he couldn’t quite remember every line just the way it was.

“For Canada, Québec… We are outside the cities, and anyway Ottowa is very close,” he said, once it was away, and it was clear he was adding the information for the sake of information, rather than correction, “In China, Xian. X-I-A-N,” he spelt, because the idea of something close to a ‘sh’ sound being made by an ‘x’ was deeply unintuitive to most North Americans. “Your little plant maybe has more difficulties - Beijing has more cold and snow,” he explained with a smile.

“Did you have a nice anniversary?” he asked.

13 Dorian It's true. But cookies and books are good too. 1401 Dorian 0 5

Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

September 24, 2019 12:26 AM

Fair point. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

Mary loved to imagine her students even smaller than they were when she met them, and she now knew Mrs. Dorian's Mom well enough to know that such a display of love and passion - both for her role as Dorian's mom and as a steward of heritage and knowledge - was a special thing indeed. It warmed Mary to think that others had that, and made her think gratefully of time she'd spent with her mother. It hadn't been enough, but she was grateful and happy for those memories, regardless.

Dorian was very satisfying to give gifts to because he always seemed so appreciative. Mary knew that the gift itself meant only half as much as the gift giving to Dorian, and she appreciated being appreciated. "Ah," she groaned with a smile to show that she was not too disappointed to have gotten the location in China wrong. "I may be able to charm it to work for Xian, but I think I probably wouldn't be the right person for that. If you'd like me to ask Professor Wright, I'm happy to do that." She grinned, clearly not worried either way. "I'm glad you like it."

It was sweet of him to ask about her anniversary and Mary wondered how much he'd like to hear. Figuring that it would be nice to catch up without necessarily getting too much into the romantic ins and outs of her relationship with another of his professors, Mary settled on the vague.

"It was really wonderful," she smiled. "And perfect. Christmas was such a wonderful time to get married because we get snow and lights and pretty things for our anniversary now. And a school holiday. Which reminds me: tell me more about your break! What did you do? How was it? Anything exciting in the world of Dorian?"

22 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne Fair point. 1424 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne 0 5

Dorian

September 24, 2019 9:51 AM

Do we have a problem? by Dorian

"No, I will keep it this way, thank you," he answered. He wasn't sure why Professor Brooding wouldn't be able to change it if she had done it in the first place but that was a moot point. It was how she had made it, and it was like... even if she got better at painting, he wouldn’t expect her to come back and start shading in the plants. She had made it this way, and therefore this way was how it was meant to be. He would have been hesitant enough about having her change anything but he definitely didn’t want to if it involved letting Professor Wright poke it. Professor Wright was perfectly nice, of course, but he was nothing to do with this.

"That sounds very romantic," he smiled, as she talked about snow and lights. Those were definitely things he liked about Christmas, and would be romantic for a special occasion too. "You did not go to Greece again then?" he guessed, based on the weather report.

And then she asked about his holiday. And he had known that she would, and he had thought up a few different ways of telling her... But he hadn't really settled on one yet, or on how and where to begin. He thought that telling her he'd broken his wrist might make her worry or turn that into the main focus, even though it was obviously fine now, but a lot of the story didn't make sense without it. There was also what had happened in that time. He still felt sort of bad about it for all sorts of reasons, and he hadn't been able to talk to anyone... But he was also happy, and the thought of just rambling about all the nice things that had happened was deeply appealing.

"Uh… Maybe a few things" he answered, and there was a slightly sheepish grin on his face, "I think the kettle is boiling," he pointed out. He picked up the tea options that Professor Brooding had placed on the desk, hanging his head forward to hide his face as he looked through them, still wondering how much to say. He told Professor Brooding almost everything, but he was sort of embarrassed about some of this, and part of him wanted to keep it to himself, and part of him wanted to tell her everything and- he flinched slightly as a paw appeared between him and the box, reaching out to bat him on the cheek.

"Hey," he protested, looking up. Initially, he assumed that Ailuros wanted her mouse thrown, but he found that she was surveying him intently, her tail flicking ever so slightly back and forth.

"Mrow," she pointed out, narrowing her eyes slightly. It was a very kneazley stare.

"I'm not hiding things,” he answered guiltily, given that he’d been considering it, “I'm just... trying to collect my thoughts. This is treachery now?" he queried. Ailuros did not answer. She did not seem to think this was totally untrue, but nor did she back down. She just stared, waiting to judge the quality of his answer.

"Quite a lot happened," he stated, passing over his teabag selection, trying to see whether Professor Brooding was scrutinising him anywhere near as thoroughly as the kneazle, "Or... maybe not. I made a friend, and it's really nice. Maybe I should just... try and not find it complicated. It's mostly just nice," he answered. “Or better than nice,” he added, realising the bland adjective potentially undersold things.

13 Dorian Do we have a problem? 1401 Dorian 0 5

Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

September 27, 2019 12:29 AM

Sounds like quite the opposite. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

Mary shook her head, thinking of the winter break she'd shared with Tabitha. "No, we stayed in a rental home more locally," she said, proud of herself for managing not to blush and for managing to push aside thoughts of what all winter break had entailed.

As the conversation turned to Dorian's break, she watched his face. His eyes usually said something about how things were going with his family and Mary worried near ceaselessly about that. For the first time that she could remember, his eyes were . . . maybe sheepish? He seemed preoccupied, but not in a threatened, harmed way. Maybe she was reading him wrong? Maybe he didn't want to tell her something? She wasn't sure whether the best course of action was to encourage him to talk about it or to sit and let him only say what he wanted to. If it were family, she would encourage it for his safety. But this? She wasn't sure.

She sat, anticipating a cup of tea soon and that Dorian would take the seat beside her - she had not taken the seat at her desk, but instead one of the plush chairs they had sat in to consult on her wedding dress the previous year - and watched with some surprise as Ailuros reacted to something that Mary could not detect alone.

"New friends are nice," Mary agreed, cocking an eyebrow. "Would you like to tell me about your new friend?"

22 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne Sounds like quite the opposite. 1424 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne 0 5

Dorian

September 28, 2019 10:47 PM

It's the same crux... by Dorian

Dorian took his tea and settled in one of the comfier seats at the edge of the office. It was the kind of chair where you didn't have to mind your posture, and he kicked off his shoes so he could draw his feet up, hugging his own legs and resting his chin on his knee. Sometimes this was an anxious posture, but today, without the hunched shoulders and tight expression that would have accompanied that mood, it simply spoke of someone who was comfortable enough with making himself comfortable where he was.

His smile continued as Professor Brooding asked if he wanted to talk about his new friend. He did. He wanted that very much.

"His name is Jean-Loup. Actually, I met him first last year, at the birthday of my brother. He and my brother are not really friends, but it's just how it is at home - if you have a big party, you just invite everyone, and it was Matthieu's seventeenth. Anyway, he thinks Matthieu is a jerk. And he seems to like me," he explained. Dorian did not discuss his brother much, and had certainly given no indication to Professor Brooding that there were any problems. However, the lack of appearances he made in Dorian's narratives spoke at least of them not being in any way close. The default information he provided anyone when they asked about Matthieu was his age, his Quidditch position and the fact he was very into the sport. This was enough for most people to conclude that he and Dorian must be vastly different people. His tone now, and the way he grinned down into his teacup suggested he very much agreed with the assessment he had ascribed to Jean-Loup, but also found is surprising that someone had reached that conclusion, especially the part about liking him instead.

"I think I didn't mention him before. Sometimes, you meet someone at a party and it is nice but then that's the end. He is the brother of my sister's best friend, so I guess there are more chances...

"About him... He's very sweet. He likes to look after?" his tone rose slightly, checking he was getting the message across, as he failed to find a single, specific word for his idea. "He plays Beater but he isn't rough or nasty. It's because his sister plays the Seeker and he wants to protect her. He wants to be a healer. During the winter break, he is... like an assistant to the medical tent at the ice skating lake. Actually, um... this is how we meet again. I broke my wrist, and he took care of me," he explained, his tone warm and affectionate, and it would undoubtedly be unsurprising to someone who knew him so well that Dorian found being looked after a valuable trait in a friend. Even though it had been Jean-Loup's job, he still had to have a certain kind of temperament to want to do that in the first place, and thus Dorian was more than willing to give him a glowing endorsement based on that fact. "He is very good at it," he added, still smiling.

13 Dorian It's the same crux... 1401 Dorian 0 5

Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

September 29, 2019 4:05 AM

But is it though? by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

Mary took a cup of tea as well, blowing softly on it while Dorian spoke. She tried not to let her eyes search his face too deeply or for too long, but she couldn't help see the way he changed when he spoke of his new friend, and she could hear it too. Jean-Loup. Mary's heart burst at the thought of anyone making Dorian so happy and was glad he'd found a new friend. She wanted to reach through time and space to thank the boy for his influence on her young friend.

She nodded to indicate that his words made sense and then let herself smile more plainly. Except then Dorian said he broke his wrist. Mary had done so herself when she'd first come to Sonora and Tabitha had healed it with a charm. It was a kind gesture but not one that had worked particularly well and she ought to have known better at the time. She'd gone to the Hospital Wing shortly after to make sure it had gone well and was glad to have gotten so lucky.

"Ouch! How did you break your wrist?" Mary asked with a sharp intake of sympathising breath. She rubbed her own absentmindedly. "Is it still troubling you? Did they heal it okay?"

When Dorian explained about Jean-Loup's role in the situation, Mary smiled again. "He sounds very kind," she agreed. "I'm glad you found somebody so nice. You deserve to have good people in your life. You seem happier than usual. Did you get to spend much time with him after he helped you with your wrist?"

OOC - Mary's wrist breaking was part of one of her first threads at Sonora, when she fell after running out of Cascade Hall at her first feast (back when I had a flair for melodrama. *hair flip* Tabitha healing it was also part of that thread, but I don't think either of us had considered that that may not work so well for wrists, so I am retconning Mary's having gone to the Hospital Wing afterwards. It would have been a boring post to write anyway.

22 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne But is it though? 1424 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne 0 5

Dorian

September 29, 2019 2:35 PM

You'd think I'd have learnt enough... by Dorian

"Skating," Dorian answered quietly, his eyes staying on his tea. Obviously it was natural that Professor Brooding would ask about that. It was normal. It didn't mean he had to get any further into it than that. The arms around his knees hugged them just a little closer, suggesting that the particulars of the incident weren't really what he wanted to talk about. "And yeah, it's fine now," he confirmed.

"I'm glad you think he's special," he added, his smile returning. Admittedly, Professor Brooding hadn't exactly used that word but she was being warm and enthusiastic. "It feels like he doesn't want me to think that. Or... I don't know. When he explains it, it's like it makes sense in that moment but then when I try to explain or recreate it in my head, it doesn't any more. Maybe it's like what you just said... He thinks that I deserve everything he's giving me. In a nice way... And, I mean... I'm not saying I deserve people to be mean instead but it doesn't stop him from being special. I think it's good to value niceness. And every time he tells me not to think he's special, it makes it a little bit harder not to do so.

"I saw him more times," he admitted, "I wanted to thank him..." he added, his speech slowing, his animation decreasing again, back to that nervous person who wasn't sure what reception they would get to what they were saying, "With my wrist, they wanted to be extra careful, so they did it the slow way. With healing serum and painkillers. Guess the practical experience with confusing concotions came in useful," he added, his finger tracing around the rim of his teacup. Professor Brooding had witnessed some of his behaviour on that, and she had read his essay. He had tried not to be openly damning of her class experiment, but even without outright stating he had hated it, it was pretty obvious from the effects it had had that it had not been an enjoyable experience. "I'm not sure I was better or worse behaved than I was for Parker... I did not yell or become difficult about things..." he summoned himself a teaspoon even though his beverage had no practical need for it. He needed it. He needed something to be doing, as he weighed up whether he needed to explain himself further. He sort of knew that he would not have begun that sentence without wanting to, and the guilt had been weighing him down. He wondered if this would somehow have been easier if Jean-Loup had been horrified, had condemned him somehow. Not that they'd talked about it further since. And obviously, he didn't want that, not really. But it felt like he'd done something wrong and the only person who knew about it wasn't willing to be anything except gracious. He needed to confess. "I tried to kiss him though. It was just... a mistake. I was-" but the point of confession was not to make excuses. "Am I a terrible person?" he asked anxiously.

OOC - eh, speaking of flares for the dramatic, I wanted an excuse to drug Dorian up. I expect there's more than one way to heal a break, depending on the type, even if both are wrists ;-)

13 Dorian You'd think I'd have learnt enough... 1401 Dorian 0 5

Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

October 03, 2019 12:10 AM

You have, sweet boy. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

Mary hid her smile in a sip of her drink, thinking fast and carefully before she responded. In part, she wanted to give Dorian a moment to be calm. However, she didn't want him to think anything was wrong, so she didn't let the moment go on too long, either.

"You're not a terrible person at all," she promised. "First of all, you were under the influence of a potion that can alter your brain state. Take it from me that your actions are bound to be a little less inhibited in those circumstances. At the same time, you wouldn't be a terrible person if you tried to kiss him even if that weren't the case. It's okay to want to kiss people. Did you respect his boundaries? If both people are good with what's going on, and both people respect each other's boundaries, then you're doing okay."

Mary quickly reviewed what she'd said in her head to make sure it needed no addendum. Confident that she would stand by that advice in most reasonable situations, and that she hadn't said anything that would leave room for Dorian to feel too much like he was getting a talk about sex and consent right now, she cocked her head at him with a small smile. She thought about the first time she and Tabitha had kissed and all the flurry of feelings that had gone with that as well. Tabitha hadn't been aware of much interest in women before meeting Mary, and that made the flurries all the more challenging. Mary pondered whether that would be a helpful factoid to share with Dorian, and decided that, while it might be, it would likely make him more uncomfortable than anything else.

"How do you feel about it now that you aren't under the influence of anything?" she asked softly. Her voice was even, neither probing, judging, or projecting. It would be equally fine to give a one word answer or a very long answer, and Mary sat just as comfortably as she had a moment before. In this part of the world, this little corner, there were few things that could cause quakes. Mary hoped that was true for all of her students.

22 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne You have, sweet boy. 1424 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne 0 5

Dorian

October 03, 2019 6:13 PM

To let my heart go by Dorian

“But I’m in love with Jehan,” Dorian pointed out, when Professor Brooding stated that there was nothing wrong with the situation. Yes, he agreed with the part about him not being in his right mind at the time - he could just about make his peace with that. But she didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with it if he’d been thinking straight. He was trying to tell himself that that wouldn’t be an issue - that when his brain wasn’t all scrambled, he wouldn’t make that kind of decision, and that it would be a moot point. But then she asked… And there was the other half of it. And she hadn’t judged him thus far, and he knew it would be safe to tell her.

“Confused,” he answered, when she asked how he was feeling now. “I… I feel like it was just a stupid mistake because of the potion. That’s what I want it to be. But it’s harder to stop thinking about it than I want it to be,” he admitted with a sigh. “But… it’s just because I put it inside my own head right? And it’s going to go away? I love someone else. I shouldn’t be thinking about kissing some other guy. And like you said… I should respect Jean-Loup’s boundaries, and I don’t think he wants me to think of him that way, so it feels… rude.” He had thought that too, a long time ago, about making Jehan do things in his head that he suspected the real Jehan had no interest in doing with him. He was pretty sure Jehan would be unimpressed, to say the least, if he could read Dorian’s mind, and possibly think he was really gross. He still felt sort of guilty about it sometimes, like he was somehow misusing him, but he had given it up as sort of inevitable. Doing it to someone else though raised all kinds of questions and issues…

13 Dorian To let my heart go 1401 Dorian 0 5

Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

October 03, 2019 6:46 PM

It is not a dichotomy. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

Mary raised her shoulders, acquiescing the point. "Sometimes, we are not in love with one person forever. Did you know that I loved someone very much before I met Professor Hawthorne? Now that person loves somebody else." Tabitha had, of course, loved somebody else as well, but that was a much murkier situation that was awkward at best and downright horrific in the colder light of day. "Sometimes we do," she added before he could argue. "You have a life time ahead to find that out for yourself."

Dorian explained his confusion with a sigh, which was better than Mary had hoped for. "It could be the potion," Mary agreed. "It could also be that you have feelings for someone who is being kind to you. Either of those is okay. You aren't dating Jehan, so if you like someone else or if you don't like someone else but sometimes maybe you want to kiss them, that's okay. If you were dating, you would want to talk about that with the person you were dating."

She stirred her drink. It was this sort of practiced silence that she found most often set people at ease. It allowed people the room to squirm inside their own heads, take a big breath, relax, or think about something else as they pleased. She never wanted to push unless someone was in danger, and she never wanted to make anyone feel like they were smaller than she was. In this space, she wasn't a professor, just an adult, and the world needed more safe, comfortable adults for youth.

22 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne It is not a dichotomy. 1424 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne 0 5

Dorian

October 04, 2019 5:30 AM

But it is safest if I try to deny this by Dorian

It was strange, thinking of Professor Brooding before now. Rationally, he knew she had been an adult person with some kind of life outside of the timeframe in which he had known her. But it wasn’t really anything he’d ever given any thought to. She had started Sonora, she had become his teacher, she had met and fallen in love with Professor Hawthorne. Anything outside of that had been fuzzy, indistinct and irrelevant.

“That’s different,” he shook his head at her example when she tried to tell him that it was possible to be in love with different people in your life. “You hadn’t met Professor Hawthorne then. And now you have-” and now she had, she had to realise that previous relationship was a mistake. She had thought she was in love with that person, he decided, rewriting her information to fit with his world view. That was okay, he reasoned, desperate for both his impression of Professor Brooding and his understanding of how the world worked to come out of this conversation in tact. She had just made a mistake because she hadn’t known who was waiting for her. He could see how that was possible - if he had met Jean-Loup first, he might have done things differently. But he hadn’t. “Once you meet your soulmate, that’s forever. That’s what makes it special.

“No they’re not,” he protested, when she listed various things that sounded completely alien to him and stated that they were all okay, though he sounded more confused than argumentative. “You kiss the person you love. And they’re the only one for you,” he added, wondering if he had misheard or misunderstood either of those points because they just didn’t make sense to him. If - when he was dating Jehan, surely that would be enough in itself to take any thoughts of other boys out of his head? He was just confused right now. Confused, and somewhat frustrated, and it was making his brain play tricks on him. “Jehan’s my soulmate. That’s what makes it acceptable. And I have to behave properly. Just because we’re both boys… It doesn’t mean we can’t do things properly.”

13 Dorian But it is safest if I try to deny this 1401 Dorian 0 5

Professor Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

October 14, 2019 11:15 PM

But do not deny my truth. by Professor Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

Mary had the hardest time with topics that were too real for her. It hurt a little bit, like when the cold weather hits and you find yourself rubbing old scars you had almost forgotten about. "Dorian," Mary said quietly, looking at him with dark eyes. There was no anger or disappointment in her voice, only a heaviness that pointed at a sadness she was keeping to herself. "Please do not dismiss the feelings I had about people before I met Professor Hawthorne."

She shifted a little in her seat, providing a visual transition to go with her new relaxed tone as she continued. "I don't personally believe in soulmates, but I can also respect you and your beliefs. Also, it's okay not to know right now, or to disagree with me."

She wondered a little bit about whether he really heard himself, and whether he would say the same things about her. Would he tell her what she had with Tabitha or had had with Michelle wasn't acceptable for any reason? She doubted it. "Either way, it's okay if later on, you find out that someone else is your soulmate, or if you have more than one, or if you have a new soulmate later. It's okay if you want to be with someone else at some point. And if you don't," she added before he could interrupt. "That's okay too. You can like boys, not just one boy. Or you can just like one boy. Both of those are okay. I am curious though. If Tabitha is my soulmate, then what would be the right thing for me to do if she wasn't interested in dating me? Would I just have to be alone for the rest of my life?"

22 Professor Mary Brooding-Hawthorne But do not deny my truth. 1424 Professor Mary Brooding-Hawthorne 0 5

Dorian

October 15, 2019 9:41 AM

But you're making reality shake by Dorian

“I’m not,” Dorian protested, when Professor Brooding said he was dismissing her feelings. He was floundering, out of depth somewhat in this conversation, and he wasn’t totally sure what that meant, but it didn’t sound nice or like something he wanted to be doing, and he didn’t want them to fight. He could feel his throat getting tight at the possibility that he was making her angry with him, even if she didn’t sound it. He couldn’t see anything wrong with what he had said… He hadn’t said anything about what she had felt before, even if maybe he slightly believed it shouldn’t count. But all he had said was that Professor Hawthorne was special. “But… but… she’s…” he searched for another word, seeing as ‘special’ had somehow made him in the wrong here. “She’s the one you’re married to. It… There has to be something…” he struggled, wanting to say there had to be something different there, something that hadn’t been there in the people she had known before, but he was scared to wade into that unknown part of Professor Brooding’s like. It felt like he was a trespasser there, and so far like he was not very welcome.

The look that crossed his face as she said she didn’t believe in soulmates was approximately as horrified as if she had just admitted that she enjoyed murdering kittens. It was a belief he’d come across before, of course. In the cold, hard world of Pureblood society where people much more frequently married for convenience or status or reputation - for some kind of tawdry gain. Even people who wanted to marry someone they cared for didn’t always necessarily believe in that sort of destiny. He wasn’t firmly sure whether Émilie believed in the idea. She was certainly a lot more casual and a little more cynical when it came to romance than him, even if deep down he knew she wanted to marry for love, not designer handbags. But Professor Brooding… Professor Brooding was outside of that system and free to choose. She struck him as such a romantic person. And she was the one who had been giving him all this advice and reassurance and yet she didn’t believe something that was so fundamental to how his universe worked.

“You can’t have more than one soulmate,” he corrected the first flaw in her logic, “And… and that just doesn’t happen,” he answered her question, “Your soulmate has to love you back, and want you, otherwise they wouldn’t be your soulmate. Maybe… sometimes, it’s complicated, or things get in the way,” he acknowledged, “or people don’t realise they’re meant to be together at first. But in the end, it will work out. It has to. And that’s what you’re always telling me. You… keep saying you know it will,” he pointed out, and he didn’t ask the question that followed on from that - he didn’t want to annoy Professor Brooding or express his doubts when he’d already said one thing wrong without even knowing how. But it was obvious from how his voice was tightening, and how - with a mumbled curse in French - his tea slopped over his shaking hands, that her pulling the idea of soulmates out of that was destabilising the very foundations of the idea. Because if she didn’t believe in them, how could she possibly know that things would work out for him?

13 Dorian But you're making reality shake 1401 Dorian 0 5

Professor Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

October 18, 2019 5:45 PM

Let us unshake it then. by Professor Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

Mary smiled with a small, reassuring expression that she hoped promised that she really wasn't mad. "Please stop me if I make you at all uncomfortable," she began, conscious of the fact that he may very well not prefer to talk at all about romance with his professor, or with a woman, or with her in particular. She was open to any of those possibilities.

It wasn't really a topic that she was entirely comfortable with herself, but she did see the importance of it. The problem for her was that she always felt a bit out of her depth. While she had spoken some to both of her parents about such things before their passing, she had hardly been old enough to put much stock in it. Or she hadn't been the sort to at least, as she had been older than Dorian was now. Her parents had also had more traditional views than she did herself. Her time spent with queer communities of wizards, witches, non-binary magical people, and queer Muggles around the world had been enough to convince her that most of what she had thought she'd known about people loving other people had been wrong. Dorian, of course, had not yet been exposed to such ideas, and she couldn't blame him for being taken aback by what she was saying. She also could be wrong; perhaps there were soulmates. It wasn't an idea she currently stood by, but she wasn't opposed to it entirely.

"Professor Hawthorne is special and I love her very much, but if something were to happen to her, I don't think either of us would want for me to spend the rest of my life alone. I don't believe in soulmates because I don't believe there's only one chance for everyone to find love. What about people who love many people over the course of their lives? Or many people at the same time? What about people who fall in love deeply and then their partner passes away? For me - and it's alright if you think something differently - there are many opportunities to find love and joy with somebody."

It was a cold, neutral thought for her, and not one that hurt to discuss. In many ways, she was more objective about love than even Tabitha was. Michelle's departure from her life had been heartbreaking, sure, but it had hardly felt like the end of the world. Even now - if Tabitha suddenly chose to leave her, she would be devastated only briefly. Perhaps it was her experience with surviving extreme grief in the past that had taught her there was nothing she couldn't survive. She felt strongly that people weren't capable of going through things they weren't meant to go through, and if they could get through grief and loss and heartbreak and break-ups of all levels, then they were meant to do so at times.

"If we do have soulmates, I don't think that I'm smart enough to find mine. I'd rather love deeply and truly now and hope I get lucky," she smiled softly again. It hurt her to hear him talk about Jehan as his soulmate because it seemed likely to her that he was not. By his own logic, somebody who didn't love him back must not be his soulmate. Perhaps Mary was simply wrong on that front, or perhaps it was the second case wherein Jehan simply hadn't realized yet. Still, it was a hard sell on her part and not an issue she wanted to probe too far.

"I am confident that it will work out," she agreed, already knowing that what she was going to say was going to suck a lot for both of them. "My life has worked out. But if you had asked me what 'working out' meant five years ago, I would've expected something very different. You will find great love, great happiness, and great success, however, whatever, and with whomever that means for you."

Mary set her cup down and took a moment to pause, siphoning away the tea that had spilled and offering to take Dorian's cup if he didn't want to hold it. She passed him a cloth with which to wipe his hands, aware that the action and the destruction might be needed. This was the sort of conversation that she hated because she knew she was never the one meant to have it with students; it should have been a loving family that helped guide both of them through dating and romance, and somehow, for very different reasons, neither of them got to have that. She was also quite aware that Dorian was generally unstable at this point in his life, and she wasn't entirely sure whether he was going to run away, dissociate, agree, or something else. It was hard to tell and she well remembered the world-shattering feelings that so often came with stressful teenage years. Adolescence - the time for identity shaping - was much harder when the adolescent's identity was not yet known.

22 Professor Mary Brooding-Hawthorne Let us unshake it then. 1424 Professor Mary Brooding-Hawthorne 0 5

Dorian

October 19, 2019 11:53 AM

You do that by letting me keep my tea by Dorian

With a mumbled decline of the offer, Dorian kept a firm hold of his cup. He needed it. He needed some guiding force in the universe right now that wasn’t going to start snatching the rug from under him. It had to be tea. He hoped and prayed to anyone that might be listening that surely tea would never ever let him down. He took a few long sips, both to reduce the contents of the cup, so that it posed less of a risk, and to calm himself, buying some thinking time into the process.

There were things he did not know. He did know what happened if someone died, except that it sounded too scary and lonely for him to want to deal with it or discuss it. The point of this was knowing you weren’t going to be alone. He did not know where horrible people factored into this equation - did they not have soulmates, or did they just not bother looking for them? He didn’t want a cold, rational argument about this, partly because it scared him that he and Professor Brooding were disagreeing and because he could sense that there were weak spots in his understanding, and he did not want to have her tear apart his beliefs - both because he did not want them destroyed but also because he couldn’t bear to have her being the one doing it, systematically attacking and destroying something that mattered so much to him when she was someone he had trusted to look after him.

Her arguments seemed to hinge on two points; that it would work out either because it would, or because he would change what he wanted. Neither of those was a satisfying or reassuring enough answer. He didn’t want to change his mind about Jehan, or about soulmates, and just become an insincere person who went around throwing themselves at whoever just because it was fun and because nothing mattered. He wanted something solid, something real, and something permanent. To his young mind, where love was all still ahead, and really felt like it could be true and be something to be done once and with sincerity, that sounded all wrong. He loved Jehan, he wanted to love him forever. He buried himself in his tea, not wanting to feel like he was starting a fight.

And the other trouble with what she was saying… If he didn’t change his mind, he just had to trust that it would work out of its own accord. Why would it? To some people, the thought of some mysterious power in the universe, one that went around picking individual people and pairing them up, weaving their lives through time to bring them together, would be utterly unbelievable. But without it, Professor Brooding was asking him to accept a much more challenging alternative. To believe in himself. To believe in his own power to make someone else want him. Even with his belief in soulmates, it still nipped at heels, the fear that no one ever would. And that was the thing he used to shoot that down when it got too much. Someone would. Someone had to. Because that was how it worked. He could not imagine a world where there was no guiding force to give him a helping hand and where he wouldn’t end up alone.

He sipped his tea. The point about soulmates had, to him, been the most convincing evidence that he needed to stop feeling this way. However, having gone down the surprising diversion into whether they even existed, the other point he’d raised had not been rebutted, and maybe - if Professor Brooding didn’t believe in soulmates - it would carry more weight with her.

“I don’t think he- Jean-Loup,” he clarified, “wants me to feel like that about him,” he reminded her. Admittedly, he thought there was a strong chance that Jehan didn’t either, but he wasn’t ready to rip that particular sticking plaster away yet and reveal the gaping wound underneath, made up of the mess of fear of being alone, fear of being wrong for what he was feeling and fear of losing his best friend, all rolled into one. “So then, it’s still not a good idea. I still need it to go away.”

13 Dorian You do that by letting me keep my tea 1401 Dorian 0 5