A Tower(ing) Conversation

Vivianna sat in her favorite spot, in her favorite tower. She figured she liked this tower best because it was the tallest of all the towers in Hogwarts. Although, it could also be that she was never disturbed here. She was sitting on the tower ledge, one knee propped up with her potions homework rested on it, and the other firmly planted on the stone floor of the tower. She let out a huff of annoyance as she glanced down at the assignment balanced on her knee. She was very good at Potions, she was well aware that it was by far her strongest subject, but this essay was killing her. I had to be at least twenty inches long, but she was fourteen inches in and had already proven her point twice over.

She knew that she had the ability to sit her OWL right then, and scrape an O without breaking a sweat, so she tended to use Potions class to discretely work on other homework. She was also more than aware that she wasn't the best at Transfiguration, and while she could pull off Charms, at least half of the class tended to master any spell before her.

Glancing out at the sky, and registering that she only had an hour or two before dinner, Vivianna figured that she might as well give up. It wasn't as if she was going to get any more work done on the stupid essay.

Just as she was about to shove the assignment in the bag by her foot, she heard a noise. Vivianna's muscles tensed slightly, as she jerked her head toward the entrance to the tower. She'd never run into someone up here before.

Henri did not understand the concept of subtlety. She was not one to move quietly, or discreetly, or even politely. She liked to make an impression, and the impression that was typically made was a very loud one. She thought that no one remembered a girl who was quiet, no matter how great she was in every other way - Henri simply could not see any benefit in being quiet.

So, she sang. She preferred American muggle rock, as that was what she had been raised on. Even though she was technically sneaking off, her manner was anything but sneaky. The American girl absolutely loved attention, good or bad, and she was definitely getting a little of both from those she passed.

"THEY TRIED TO MAKE ME GO TO REHAB, I SAID NO, NO, NO!" The irony was, as she walked, she fished through her jean pockets for a cigarette. Her classes were over, so she was wearing a more causal, comfortable outfit in lieu of the frumpy Ravenclaw uniform the school had forced upon their students.

She found her cigarette and placed it between her lips, as she growled the ending lines : "Just try to make me go to rehab, I won't go, go, go." With the conclusion of the song, she turned upwards and began to ascend the staircase up to the Astronomy Tower, her lips wrapping around the cigarette. She raised her wand and tapped the tip of it to the end of the cigarette, effectively lighting it.

As she was doing this, she reached for the door and ran into the surface, so distracted by the nicotine she was. "Damn it all to hell!" she grumbled, before pushing open the door.

She looked up, seeing she was not alone. Henri didn't know the girl - she had only been in Hogwarts a few months, after all. She hardly knew anyone, though she was slowly but surely becoming famous for her antics. Henri smiled at the girl, deviously amicable as she needed to be. She did have a reputation to maintain, after all. "Hey! Mind some company?"

She went and approached the ledge the girl was sitting atop. She leaned her head out into the air and blew some smoke out. She plucked the cigarette from her lips and turned to survey the girl. "You have nice hair. You know, putting a blue or purple undertone under the top layer of hair would really make it pop."

Vivianna watched as the door opened, and a girl walked through. Vivianna knew who this was, it was that crazy American fourth year. She'd never spoken to her before, but knew the girl by her reputation; the Hogwarts gossip mill had always been rather impressive.

She examined the girl quickly, eyes lingering for a moment on the cigarette she was smoking, before schooling her features into a facade of nonchalance. Vivianna's mind was whirring a mile a minute. She figured that this girl would be fun, and goodness knows she needed that, but she wasn't exactly sure that this was what she wanted to be associated with.

It wasn't until the other girl approached her, and complemented her hair, that Vivianna cracked a smile. "Thanks," she replied, tugging on a loose strand, "I'd actually considered putting streaks in it once, but could never bring myself to do it." She had gone through a faze last year where she’d been desperate to spice up her appearance, but had never had the courage to go through with it. Eventually, the Slytherin had just dropped the idea.

Letting her eyes graze over the other girl yet again, Vivianna decided that the least she could do was be cordial until she decided if she wanted to properly get to know this girl. "So, you're the new American student, I'm Vivianna Varnes. I apologize for not knowing your name or year..." she said, before trailing off.

Of course, she was fully aware that the girl was a fourth year, but she wasn't about to let her know that. Vivianna was a Slytherin for a reason, she wasn't about to up and tell someone that they were well known, and even looked up to by some. She wasn't a fan of other people holding power over her, no matter the type. At least, that was what the Sorting Hat said.

Although, Vivianna thought she could genuinely like this girl. She was clearly a very blunt and outspoken person, and Vivianna liked that she wouldn't have to internally analyze everything the other girl said. It did get incredibly tiring sometimes, living in a house of Slytherins.

Most people seemed absolutely shocked when she suggested modifying their appearance, even in the smallest, least substantial of ways. Henri thought it was hilarious to watch the insecurities people had about themselves play out when she suggested what seemed like obvious, simple modifications that would do them absolute wonders. And yet everyone always got their panties in a bunch.

But this girl seemed more open to it - she responded easily, readily, as though the idea of dying her hair was not horrendous. Thank goodness, one student in the whole wide school who knew how to relax and have a little fun! Henri had searched far and wide so far with little to no success. It was nice for the American girl to see that there was an exception to the rule.

"You should definitely try. The worst thing that can happen is you could burn your hair off, but what better place to try than a school where your teacher can grow it back to the original. If you you don't want to, I could help. I have five colors on me." She rummaged through her huge bag of goodies and pulled a few canisters sporting bright, synthetic hair colors.

The girl introduced herself and Henri began to set out the colors so the girl could look through them if it pleased her too. Henri smiled at her, saying, "Nice to meet you, V. I'm Henrietta Finch, but you can call me Henri. I'm a fourth year Ravenclaw - whoop, whopp, or whatever," she ended dully. "I haven't really bought into the school spirit yet." She shrugged.

Henri spotted a hang nail on one of her black-painted nails and immediately brought it to her mouth, catching it in her teeth and ripping it off of her nail, and spitting it out the window. She glanced at the girl, and tapped one of her longer nails against the metal canisters. "So, whatcha thinking? Yay or nay on the hair color? I could do it right here, and you don't seem terrible busy."

Vivianna just raised an eyebrow as Henri pulled five hair colours right out of her bag! Vivianna eyed the bag for a moment, wondering when else was kept in there. She couldn't decide if it would be fun to raid the thing, or if she just really didn't want to know. Vivianna just sat in silence as the other girl nicknamed her without permission and introduced herself. After a single moment’s deliberation, Vivianna decided she liked V alright. She figured that was a good thing, she doubted the younger girl would stop calling her that even if Vivianna wasn't fond of it.

The Slytherin let out a snort as Henri introduced herself as a Ravenclaw. How on Earth had this girl gotten sorted there? With her bold attitude, Vivianna would have pegged her as a Gryffindor. So Henri's got a thirst for knowledge, Vivianna thought to herself, but what kind of knowledge? The Slytherin filed this information away for later.

"You're in Ravenclaw?" Vivianna asked as she examined the canisters, "you've got to bored as hell in there." Even if this girl was a Ravenclaw, Vivianna figured she'd honestly be happier in any other house. She'd have friends in Gryffindor; the lions would be attracted to her bold and blunt nature. Someone like her would probably collect groupies in Hufflepuff, and Vivianna doubted she'd mind. And even if the 4th year was a bit open for a Slytherin, at least she seemed to know how to work sarcasm. Vivianna had also noted her slightly twisted sense of humor. This girl would be able to survive in the snake den.

Sliding the blue, green, and black hair colours forwards, Vivianna tilted her head to the side. If she was going to do this, she definitely didn't want anything too dramatic. Perhaps she'd just do a single streak in the under layers. Vivianna bit the inside of her mouth, that sounded like a good idea. The only thing left to decide was the colour.

"I was thinking something more subtle, a single streak," Vivianna told the other girl as she pondered over colour choices. Perhaps she was acting a bit rashly, but she had long ago decided that she would get a tattoo as soon as she turned seventeen, and this was nothing compared to that. "So what colour?" Vivianna asked Henri, gesturing towards her three possibilities.

V asked the question Henri had been asked a lot lately. No one seemed to believe she belonged in Ravenclaw. She ought to have been offended, but she really couldn't be when her track record spoke against her. She had a terrible attendance record, and was on the verge of failing most, if not all, of her classes. Henri supposed she had been sorted into the House of Brains because she was receptive to small changes around her. She had a calculating, exacting mind that knew how to twist circumstances until they begged for mercy from her.

Henri nodded. "Yeah, I'm one of the uptight nerds, can't you tell?" She smirked. "It's never boring. Everyone in the House needs to cut loose but has no idea how to. Throw me into the mix, and it's like taking a bunch of Amish girls to a party. They overcompensate like crazy to catch up on all the wrongdoing they have never been able to do before. It fits me perfectly."

Henri typically was not honest with others, even in trivial conversations like this where pleasantries were the commodities being traded, but Henri simply could not find a reason to lie about her House. It was bragging, really; her talking about how well suited she was to teach her fellow Ravenclaws how to enjoy life. Her pride was what was preventing her from going about her typical lying ways.

V said she was hoping for something subtle and Henri blew a raspberry. "Booo! Subtle is lame; subtle is boring. If you're going to make a change, make it one that people will actually notice." She lifted the back of her hair and turned, so that the Slytherin girl could see the faded wisps of pink all about her neckline. She dropped her hair and turned back. "That's the style. That's an old job - I'm waiting on my brother's girlfriend to send me my favorite product before I redo it. But I think it's work great with your hair too - and add a matching streak through the bangs and - BAM. You've got people's attention."

Henri looked between the colors and then tapped her nails on the blue canister. "Definitely blue - this color will really pop in your red. The green would be too Christimas-y, and black doesn't work well on red, unless you're dipping, so..." Henri sounded like an expert because, well, she had a bit of experience. She packed up the green and black and pulled out a canister meant to bleach. "We'd have to bleach the spots first, to make the color really stand out."

Vivianna nodded slowly, smirking slightly at the girl's sarcasm. She hadn't considered that about the Ravenclaw's. Sure, she had figured there would be a few, but she hadn't taken into account that a sizable amount of the Ravenclaw population would be repressed nerds. It truly was an interesting fact, one that she many be able to use to her advantage at a later date.

"Well that's gotta be fun for you then," Vivianna acknowledged. Henri seemed like just the person that would love to corrupt the entire Ravenclaw house. The Slytherin wouldn't even be surprised if the younger girl had made it her mission, it seemed like a very Henri thing to do.

The elder girl repressed the urge to shake her head as her companion blew a raspberry and informed her that subtle was lame. She could overlook the raspberry, it seemed to just be a part of the American's personality, but she couldn't overlook the other part. Had Vivianna really thought that this girl would be an alright Slytherin? She took it back, she hadn't known what she was thinking.

Subtlety was everything! Sure, even Vivianna had to admit that there were times where you needed to abandon the glares, and jump to getting right up in someone's face and threatening them. But even then, it was the subtle things that mattered. The small glances people's eyes made, or the way other's held themselves.

Which was exactly why Vivianna was confused. This girl was smart, her sorting proved that. But Vivianna was interested in her eyes. Henri's eyes were intelligent, and calculating in a way that wasn't so dissimilar to hers. So why was the Ravenclaw insisting that bigger is better, even as her eyes captured the little details? The Slytherin was determined to solve this puzzle, was the girl unaware what she was doing?

"There are time when it pays to be subtle," Vivianna said simply, leaning over to pick up the blue canister. She wasn't sure if it would make the other girl think or not, but a part of her hoped so. She flipped the canister over to read the back, knowing that she would sure as hell be casting a revealing charm or two before putting this stuff in her hair.

Henri rolled her eyes. "Yeah, at funerals." She pushed herself onto the ledge so she was sitting with her back to the starry sky, and faced this girl full. "Look, V, I'm not saying your whole head will be blue. Trust me, if I wanted you to look like Smurfette, you would look like her already." Henri did not bother explaining the muggle reference, so usually lost on wizards and witches alike. She didn't have the time or energy.

"You'll just see blue poking through the red. It'll make your red hair, which is gorgeous, by the way - I told you that, right? That it was really pretty? - it'll make it look electric red. It will 'subtly'-" she air quoted and rolled her eyes at the very word, "the natural color of your hair. And then, when people see a strand of blue poking out, there will be mystery. Then you scoop your hair into a ponytail and - WHAM. They get a shocker."

Henri had always been an animated speaker. Onomatopoeia sprinkled through her sentences like salt on french fries. Her face moved quickly, shuffling through expressions as they were necessary. And Henri had found, when trying convince people to do as she thought appropriate, sincere expressions were a very useful tool in her arsenal of rhetoric.

She sighed. "Trust me, okay? Back at my old school, I did EVERYONE'S hair. And I never had a complaint. If you really don't like my blue idea, I could add black tips to your hair. If you fade it right, it gives the impression of fire. It's amazing too."

Vivianna pursed her lips. This girl was very convincing, almost too convincing. Ah, there was that paranoia again. But really, what was the worst that could happen? If her hair got burnt to a crisp, a potion would grow it back. If she hated it, she could dye it back. Truthfully, it did sound cool.

Vivianna loved being a mystery, even thrived on it in some cases. That was why she had gone for the streak. It could be hidden, or shown off, or just glimpsed sometimes enough to intrigue. But dying the underneath sounded like it could do all that too, and would look better at the same time. If she was being honest with herself, she would admit that out of all the options she liked the black tips the best, but that wasn't something you could hide, so was out of the question. She had certain reputations to maintain with certain people, and something like that might crack the mirror.

"How about this," Vivianna sighed, "we do the blue underneath but in streaks, I still want some red under there. Maybe, two thick streaks on either side?" The Slytherin frowned as she attempted to visualize, her had automatically disappearing into her hair.

The red-head stood up then, balancing on the stone ledge she'd previously been sitting on. "And yah, you did say that already. Thanks though," she said. As untamable as it could be, the girl was rather proud of her hair. It was one of the things her father had given her that she could enjoy, just like her eyes.

The girl ventured out, and Henri could tell she had pretty much won the girl over with her arguments, and her only hesitation was the hesitation to give in to a stranger. Still, Henri knew a victory when she heard one, and she felt the evil little flutter inside her that beat against her rib cage in proud ecstasy. Any therapist would be worried about her joy in manipulation, for the girl was sure to be branded a sociopath if she ever stepped into any sort of medical office, but she paid it no more mind than she ever did.

"Of course I'll leave red!" she said, hopping off the ledge. "I just told you that I liked your hair, I'm not going to ruin it. It'll look great." She scooped her supplies into her arms and said, "Right. Off to the bathroom." She reached out, caught the girl's wrist, and pulled her along. "It's easiest to do in the bathroom so you can wash your hair as we go. It's the best way."