through my subconsciousness, open.

[rowan elliot]

Running one final brush of her hand down Amelia, Rowan placed a kiss on her head and grabbed her wand off her bedside table and slid it into her holder for it. It was a nice leather one attached to her thigh that was almost always hidden by her usual attire of dresses. Due to being of elven descent, Rowan didn't feel as anxious as certain wizards and witches got when separated from theirs wands, elves were particularly adept at wandless magic. But this ability came at the cost that they never really bonded with their wands and sometimes had problems casting spells with their wands. As such, Rowan intended to spend the day practicing magic with her wand. Even if it was the last thing she did, she was determined to do well on her next practical test.

Considering how much time and work she had been dedicating to improving her grades, the A she'd gotten on her last practical Transfiguration test had particularly stung. In fact, that very day Rowan had gone about the halls of Beauxbatons, scouting out the perfect place to practice with her wand. After finding an empty classroom that suited her needs, Rowan made a plans to get down to business. And today was that day. She quickly hurried from her door, through the active Sournois common room and down the necessary halls of Beauxbatons. She walked as she always did, quickly and with purpose, an angry look upon her face. Rowan did not want people to get it into their heads that she had time to talk or that she was someone you'd want to stop for a chat.

When she reached the empty classroom a small smile came upon her face and felt a strange trill of excitement. She was kind of shocked by how much she was looking forward to improving her wand skills, a few months ago she would have totally dreaded doing any work. But entering the classroom she felt anything but dread and draw her wand with an unnecessary flourish. Taking a deep, she took her first stance and went over in her mind what she needed to do. Muttering the spell she smoothly moved through the motions, flicking her wand as the textbook said, concentrating on enlarging an abandoned desk in the room. Even though she knew better than to expect complete success upon her first try, Rowan still felt a sinking feeling when her attempt totally failed. Nothing had happened to the desk.

[noir beaumont]

Life was just grand sometimes. At other times, it wasn't. Noir's life at that moment was of the latter. Then again, what students' life would be lovely when they were in school? It wasn't as bad as others so she wouldn't complain. Beauxbatons itself wasn't the problem neither were the staff. It was more of the students. Well, the two that bothered her. She could write a list of what ticked her off. The window lining one of the many corridors showed a beautiful, sunny day. It was certainly the type of weather that called for a walk outside. The unfortunate thing was that she was in no mood to do so. On a day like this, she was often spotted under the oak tree by the school. It was a place where she could gather her thoughts and rarely have someone interrupt her. Noir emitted a sort of aura that warned people not to come close lest they desired a trip to the hospital wing. Ironically, she wasn’t much of the type that lashed out at a person easily. It generally took a lot to get her riled up. It was an event that rarely took place yet, it was a sight to see. She had more of a quiet way of getting revenge. It was like poison, slow yet deadly.

A frown settled upon her face. The annoyances of daily life was just getting to her. She needed a place where she could gather her wits. Noir stood up from her bed, grabbed a book, and left her room. There was no way that her mood was going to improve by the time everyone got back. Noir let out a hiss of frustration when someone bumped into her. She was sorely tempted to bark out an insult but all the fight was out of her. She simply moved out of the way and continued on her trek to a quiet place. Now, the question one was where the place would be. Inside the castle was her first thought. The world outside was out of the question with the little children running around and everything. In a time and day like this, one would think that the children would be staying inside and playing with their magic. They were curious about anything magical.

Noir walked the steps up to the upper floors of the castle. The Sournois students were situated near the dungeons. It wasn't anything that she wasn't used to. After all, she had attended Hogwarts before and the Slytherin students were shoved to the dungeons. The Sournois common room was much more unnerving, however, with the catacombs open. No one knew what could come out of them. The chances are that it was nothing good. She came to a line of empty classrooms. The sound of movement rang in her ears. She couldn't help but feel curious as to who would rather spend a day in a classroom then outside, playing Quidditch. She walked towards the classroom and saw a girl trying to preform a spell. She wasn't close enough to hear what the spell was though. "What are you trying to do?" she asked, tilting her head to the side in that habit of hers.

[rowan elliot]

Rowan was just getting over the disappointing turnout of her last magical attempt and gearing up for the next when the arrival of someone in the room distracted her. Wheeling around on her heel, her brown eyes narrowed on the intruder. The classroom was supposed to be empty, emphasis on empty. She most certainly did not want anyone to witness her lack of skills when it came to certain areas of magic, lest she be labled a squib or perhaps something worse, a muggle. But, Rowan supposed, dealing with the blonde was inevitable as she couldn't simply ignore her, not matter how tempting it seemed. Warily she replied, "None of your business," and turned back towards the desk. On the people who were less determined to speak to someone as unpleasant as Rowan, that was enough to stop conversations in their tracks. Although, lately, that theory had been disproved time and time again. It would seem that people were becoming less frightened by her prickly demeanor.

Just as she lifted her wand to have a go at another spell, deciding not to pay the stranger any mind, when she realized that something was off about the girl. She seemed familiar. Rowan lowered her wand with a huff and turned back towards the blonde and crosses her arms. Now her curiosity was piquedand, as it was for all people, there was no way she'd be able to forget about it until she satisfied it. Her eyes took in her face and moved downwards, trying to place her. They were about the same age and it was easy to assume that it was through school but she was sure that couldn't be it, it was gut feeling of sorts. Maybe they had classes together, maybe they were even in the same house but Rowan was certain she knew her from somewhere and it was on the tip of her tongue. As she wracked her brain for the answer, Rowan continued to level her a glare. Even if the blonde wasn't irritating her, it was correct to assume that glaring was her neutral facial expression.

Then the blonde must surely be familiar from outside of school. Pursing her lips she thought of all the situations where she might have run in with the other girl. She seemed, from the way she dressed to her demeanor, to come from an upper-class family. Maybe they ran in the same circles, perhaps she was a friend of her family. The Elliots were, afterall, an old family in the magical world. They were an respectable elven family who had only recently started expanding to include other species (such as her mother who was, surprisingly, a muggle). They were also rich which made them desirable in high-society. "Do I know you?" she finally gave in and demanded. Rowan was becoming tired of all this pondering and thinking of her social life outside of school only served to anger her. Crossing her arms over her body, she tapped a foot and awaited an answer. She had better things to do today than dither around with this other girl who'd inturrupted her studying.

[noir beaumont]

The spell obviously failed. It was unfortunate but Noir didn't care. Right now, she stared at the stony eyes of the girl before her. She fixed her with a glare of her own. As she stared at her, she realized there was something almost familiar about her. They were probably in classes together but the girl just seemed so familiar. Too familiar. It couldn't just be from school. It was something more. In her past, perhaps? She struggled to remember where she may have met the girl before. As she tried to remember, the brunette's words interrupted her. Noir shrugged. "Fine then. Don't tell me." She casually strolled over to one of the other desks and sat down. "It's no skin off my nose," she muttered to herself before opening her book. The Seer: The Prophetic Power of Visions, Dreams, and Open Heavens. The book wasn't the most interesting read. That title belonged to the odd fantasy of Alice in Wonderland. It was more informative. By now, she had gotten the hang of her dreams and visions. A little light reading never hurt though. The book was also a required reading so it was better to get it over with.

She tried to focus on the book but the stranger distracted her. She couldn't place her finger on it. The only obvious thing was that the two girls had met before. The question was where and when. Lovely. Just when she wanted to escape her past, it comes back to her. The dark eyes gave her the vague memories of balls and parties. Again, nothing clear came to her. It was impossible to remember. If they had met at a party, the girl may as well be like every other girl! Throughout her life, she had met many people and it really was impossible to recall all of them. There had to be something about the girl that would actually catch Noir's attention. Hogwarts? No. If the girl was at Hogwarts, she probably would've known to cast a spell like that. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Think, think, think. Life revolved around thoughts, didn't it?

Her thoughts were again, broken by the other girl. "Perhaps," she answered vaguely. She looked into the girl's brown eyes. "Surely, we meet many people so it's hard to recall just one girl, isn't it?" A name might spark a memory. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet or be as thorny. "What is your name?" she asked, her head tilting to the side as she observed the girl. The familiar stranger was most likely a student in her house but Noir was quite sure that they had met each other out of school. She was slightly surprised that she hadn't encountered the girl before. Being a prefect, she had met tons of people. Then again, she couldn't be expected to recall each and every one of them.

[rowan elliot]

Rowan had hoped that after her cool reaction, the blonde would just leave. Instead, she only offered a cool response in return and began reading. Gritting her teeth, Rowan roller her shoulders back and pulled herself up to her full height. While she was hardly the tallest young woman around, she knew for a fact that when she stood like this it was rather intimidating. The trith of the matter was that Rowan simply had plenty of experience with attempting to be intimidating - it was her preferred state. She thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of being superior and inspiring fear in others. "Honestly," she began slowly, properly enunciating her words so that their intent was clear, "can you really not tell that I would like for you to leave?" Generally, when her subtle attempts to get people to leave her alone failed, Rowan almost always resorted to blunt truth. It was better that way, she was hardly one to sugarcoat what needed to be said.

But still, it irked her how familiar the blonde looked. Every time she turned to have another go at the spell she was practicing, she would get deterred by the sliver of focus she was dedicating to trying to remember who she was. In a way, it was embarrassing how she couldn't remember a simple name but as the blonde said, it was hard to recall just one girl when Rowan had met so many in her lifetime. Rolling her eyes, Rowan turned to face her once again and stated plainly, "I am Rowan Elliot," as if it was the most evident thing in the world. And in her experience, people usually were able to tell who she was - while she and her many siblings were not all identical in looks, anyone who was anyone in the wizarding world had to know who the Elliots were. Actually, usually when people did not recognize her from her physical likeness to her sisters, the would react to the family name (although often would not know there was a Rowan in the family - she was hardly and Elliot to write home about). Crossing her arms, she braced herself for the other girl's reaction.