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Thread: A Tidy Solution (Professor Medina, Ella Archer, Damara Liakos)

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    Default A Tidy Solution (Professor Medina, Ella Archer, Damara Liakos)


    Thursday, September 2nd, 2117.
    The Slytherin Commonroom - 6:30 AM.



    Ella woke with a groan, her normally perfect brown locks resembling a half-built birds' nest; tangled around her head. Her forehead creased against the dull throb of the headache leftover by last nights' interaction with the half-drained bottle beside her. She pushed it out of sight, beneath her pillow, then slipped past those students still sleeping in the dorm-room, down the hall, into the bathroom. With a grateful sigh, she immersed herself in steaming water.

    When she emerged from the room twenty minutes later, she looked her usual self - composed, her robes crisp and clean, the shiny prefects badge in place on her breast, her hair immaculate once more. As she decended the staircase into the commonroom, she greeted the woman waiting there with a polite, friendly smile.

    "Good morning, Professor."

    "Good Morning, Miss Archer." Emilia Medina was standing beside the merrily crackling fire, her hands clasped behind her back. She took a seat, now, in one of the pillowed green armchairs, and gestured to a chaise lounge across from her. Ella sat obediently, sweeping her hands beneath her as she did, to smooth her robes.

    She waited expectantly for Medina to explain why she had asked her to meet, but the Professor offered no such explanation. After a moment, Ella shifted in her seat.

    "Professor, why...?"

    "Patience, Archer. Miss Liakos will be down in a moment, I'm sure. I will explain everything then."

    Liakos, Ella repeated in her mind, running through the mental list she stored of those students in her house. She had heard the name... In the sorting; of course. So it was one of the new first years... At this moment, Ella realised; Medina had said Miss Liakos, but she had looked up to the staircase on the right. It was the faux girl, then. But what was this about?

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    She hadn’t moved a muscle. Sleep was unnatural to her this night. It happened, but waking from it awarded her with stiffness across her body. Paranoia, anxiety, they had crawled under skin during the night and kept. It hurt to wake up, Damara not fondly remembering what had become of her and where exactly she lay. The snoring of one of the student’s sleeping reminded her she was in the boy’s room.

    Sitting up, the Greecian girl pulled her skirt she had wadded up at the thighs to guard her from viewing. With disdain, she looked over to the mudblood asleep. If the gods were kind, they would humiliate him and give him punishment greater fold than what had been done to her.

    “Ow.” She whimpered, covering her lips as she stood. Damara didn’t want to wake the boys, half of her hair was frizzy from laying on it. Realizing she was clear, Damara quickly exited the room, returning to the boy’s hallway. Here she sat for a time, not wanting to brave downstairs yet and be made a mockery and afraid of what would happen if she walked into the boy’s bathroom. Her tears were shed already, she instead sat in a solitude of misery. It dulled what her heart experienced. The girl missed her familiar and yearned to see Kons soon.

    Being entirely incompetent to do anything to tend to herself, the first year sat there with smeared makeup aiding in her sloppy appearance. A boy was coming up from the stairs. She looked over and saw the face, remembering his hazel speckled brown eyes, thick black hair and tanned skin. Damara still didn’t remember his name but the boy had a look about him in those eyes that made her rub her knees together and look down with shame.

    Malachi came up to the image of the one girl here looking a bit undone. He guessed she looked how she felt. Transgender girls were in the muggle world, he could see, and never really thought of, them being a part of the magical world. She was a high esteemed pureblood but she was being treated less than that. His face grimaced, her here was still awkward. He put a smile on his face for her, bringing what he thought would be good news.

    “I was coming to get you. The Headmistress wanted to see you” He waved his thick Iraqi brows in a little dance, getting Damara smile meekly. He lowered a hand to help her stand, now seeing one of her socks tied around her shin. “You…should have gotten that looked at yesterday.” He blurted, realizing maybe he shouldn’t have said that given to what happened to her. Miss Liakos grabbed his hand, wondering if he was a pureblood or not, and stood. Her hand didn’t allow contact to remain after. The stood at the exact same height, Damara averting her eyes and nodding gently before briskly leaving to go downstairs.

    Descending the boys’ set of stairs, the messy newly minded Slyhtherin came down and set foot on the first floor. Her eyes scathingly stared at Ella, missing the Headmistress for a brief time. She came closer and looked at the two females, concerned as to the agenda of the head of Hogwarts. Damara had a reputation to salvage and it was necessary for her to thrive at this school for her family’s sake.
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    "Good morrning, Miss Liakos."

    The silver-haired headmistress didn't miss a beat at Damara's dishevelled appearance, but; with Medina's eyes turned safely from her, the judgement Ella laid on the girl with her gaze was painfully clear. Her eyes travelled slowly over each element of the girls' unravelled person, finally rising to meet her eyes with an unflinching stare. Emilia Medina showed neither pity or praise, and if her eyes didn't display such a sharpness, making it clear she missed very little, one could have thought she didn't notice how unkempt the first year was.

    "Take a seat," she told the child, gesturing to the other side of the lounge where Ella sat. The prefect's hand moved to her thigh, tucking her robes under her leg; kept firmly on her own side of the couch. Medina's left eyebrow rose infinitesimally; an almost unnoticeable movement. Despite her movement suggesting distaste at Damara sitting beside her, Ella offered the girl a friendly smile as she approached; it was surprisingly convincing, if one had not experienced the older students' usual attitude.

    "I have been informed of the mishap that occurred yesterday evening," Medina began, addressing Damara. "I apologise that your difficulty in accessing the girls' dormitories was not pre-empted, or preparations would have been made. Unfortunately, the magic imbued in these walls is old magic, and not always understanding of the progressions of modern society. Nor is it easily manipulated; however, I have devised a solution to the issue."

    From beside the chair, Medina produced an unobtrusive matte-black handbag. It had a firm, hard-lined flat bottom, soft sides rising to extend into looped handles, long enough for a student to easily loop over their shoulder.

    "This will provide transport in and out of your dormitory, until such time as we can affect another solution. I cannot guarantee when, or if that will occur, however, but I think you'll find this quite comfortable."

    She reached out, offering the bag to Damara. Ella was watching the scene in silence, obviously determined to offer a polite and friendly front for their headmistress, but plainly wondering why she needed to be there.

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    Damara was backed into a corner. Her young eyes never pulled to far from the Headmistress whose presence demanded acknowledgment with unspoken compulsion which threaded on intimidating. Damara was surprised how powerful in personality she felt when in intimate conversation with the woman, somehow it swallows while her self-pity and made her compliant.

    The Liakos first born took what was offered, confused and lacking the imagination to see what it was to be used for. She set it down at her feet between hers and the prefect's. The dark skinned child took a moment to find her words, touching one of her teardrop earrings.

    "How will it do as you say?" Damara asked, not knowing what magic would be combined with a handbag.
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    Ella's eyes moved from the bag to their Headmistress, plainly curious how she would answer the younger girl's question. She hid her indignance at the thought of the boy being allowed entrance to the girls' dormitory well, but it still burned within her. The Archers' were not a tolerant family; and the stiffness that applied to the old magic of the castle could be found in the old families, as well - the Wizarding community did not handle change as well as Muggles.

    Medina made a gesture with her fingertips, and the clasp of the handbag popped open; Ella, unsurprised by the wandless magic she had seen her headmistress perform many times (though it had impressed her immensely, when she had first seen it) leaned forward to peer into its' depths. She was surprised to see the contents of the bag were well lit, as though illuminated from within; which, in fact, they were. She was peering into what looked like a spacious sitting room; bedecked in the Slytherin house colours.

    "He'll get inside the bag?" she said in surprise, not realising her slip until Medina responded sternly in correction.

    "She will indeed. Step inside, and you will find the furnishings are larger than they appear from above. You simply enter the room, Damara, and a classmate will be able to carry you upstairs; which is why I have asked you here, Miss Archer. As a Prefect of this house, I will expect you to take responsibility for ensuring that someone is available to assist Miss Liakos with this. I am also confident you will ensure that her transition to the girls' dormitory is well-received, and her right to a place there is understood."

    Ella looked indignant, as though she was going to protest. She caught herself, however, saying with a hint of stiffness, "Of course, Professor."

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    Damara was unnerved by the headmistress’ wandless magic, not expecting whatsoever. The presentation of power made her curious to look down into the handbag herself. She could see what might have been a miniature version of the common room: a snake emblem rug aesthetically held at center a dark maroon love-seat. It was made of a rich leather, reflecting the light of the fireplace burning in the depths. In an interesting way the love seat sat in a way to break the winding snake in half: the head and tail emerging out from under the legs as if slithering beneath.

    “Tch” Damara hissed under her breath, taken straight out of her enjoyment by the prefect’s disrespect. The Greek girl eased herself into good graces, the headmistress’ lecture was sweet and deserved to the pureblood who did not respect the merit of Liakos. After the prefect bit her tongue, Damara looked at her once to take in the victory and eyed the head of Hogwarts. It was good to know a respectful pureblood was leading this castle.

    “After these accommodations where can to have my injuries helped?” She alluded to her fall by the rejecting stairs. Her hip still hurt and throbbed from the fall and subsequent slide down.

    Most of all Damara wanted this change into the girl’s dorm to be quick, she wanted to see Tamara – if the girl would still accept her as friend after what had happened.
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    "You can go to the hospital wing," Professor Medina answered, "Our Matron will only take a moment to treat your injuries; plenty of time before breakfast." Her eyes moved to meet Ella's, and both students could see a sparkle within them, as though whatever thought had struck her brain amused her.

    "Miss Archer will be happy to show you where it is; after she has assisted you to go upstairs and dress. Now, I have other matters to attend to." The headmistress stood, her mane of grey curls bouncing as she nodded farewell to the two students. "I hope your first lessons are instructive and interesting, Miss Liakos. Good day to you both."

    With that, she had swept out of the commonroom, leaving the two alone by the fire. Ella sighed with the attitude of someone being forced to perform an arduous task. "Alright, let's get this over with, Liakos. I will, of course, do as Medina asks. But if you think I'm going to be your bodyguard up there, you're sadly mistaken. Respect is earned in this house, not demanded - as I'm sure you well know." She stood, one hand lifting casually to her hip as she waited for the younger girl to step into the bag, the tapping of her foot muffled by the plush rug beneath it.

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    “Then why did you speak?” Damara snapped back to the prefect, her tone proudful, snippy and free now that the Headmistress had left them. The pureblood girl stared up to the other, pulled by the wanting of solidarity between those of the right blood, and hatred coming from the most vulnerable place in her heart. “It will be my respect you will want. My family makes history in this world like yours never will. You should be a part of our history, not against it. You’ll lose and no one will remember your family name a thousand years from now” Damara smiled, shining through her what had passed. The wound would exist for a while, the shame would linger, but Damara wouldn’t relinquish her dignity to people who didn’t speak the Liakos name with deep respect. Humiliation and determination wove so well together in her.

    The young witch raised her foot and took her first step down, sinking into a cooler warmth as her foot was more distant from the fireplace in the handbag than the fireplace the rest of her body stood by. The sensation was jarring for her brain to understand.

    “Err.” Her brunette brows furrowed before she pushed herself down into the handbag more. Her skirt and gray wool brushed against the handles the further she sunk in. Seemingly vanishing from the world, Damara felt a small fall and landed easily on her feet with another startle. Now in this new room she turned around to look closer. This sort of magic reminded her of the Crete Planes – two existences in one place. The Liakos first born turned her eyes up, waiting for the bag to close and for her to reunite with Tamara.
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    Ella blinked and scowled, obviously unaccustomed to being spoken to this way. She watched as Damara stepped into the bag, then picked it up; a handle in each hand, sternly peering down at the girl who was transformed into a perfect miniature of herself, inside.

    "Miss Liakos. I am four years your elder, and a Prefect," she said, her voice icy, but calm. "So unless you'd like to earn yourself a detention, you will watch your tone. If you'd like to be treated with respect, start by showing some. Your family has proven themselves time and time again. Your contribution to that legacy remains to be seen." She closed the bag, sliding her arm through the hoops to rest the handles on her shoulder.

    "Aside from which, you wouldn't want me to drop you by mistake, would you?" Quietly, she was impressed at the magic; though it had a weight to it, the handbag certainly didn't feel heavy enough to contain an entire room, and a student. She stepped onto the staircase with only a moments hesitation; she trusted Medina's ability, but couldn't help imagining herself taking the same nasty tumble the first years had the night before.

    No shudder came, no shifting from stairs to slide; Ella climbed the stairs without incident, ascending around the corner and out of sight.

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