Supper

Keera gazed at the pictures that hung on the hallway walls; they enchanted her every time she saw them, even now, after so many years of watching them move about within their frame. Being a half-blood, Keera had grown up seeing pictures that were always still, unless they were video taped, and so she would forever be amazed by the wonder that was wizard photography. She woke from her trance when she realized that Wilson had stopped. She read the small sign that was hung on the wood door, “James Wilson” she read aloud with a smile. James. That was a nice name. Keera had forgotten about the fact that she hadn’t learned his name yet, and it amused her.

Wilson went inside the office and shut the door behind him, leaving Keera to stand out in the hallways- but she understood it. He was making sure that she didn’t hear or see his clock, & so she waited. The loud chattering of children could be heard from the great hall, and Keera couldn’t help but smirked bitterly. She remembered her days of sitting at the Ravenclaw table, watching the students converse while she drank her pumpkin juice. It had been her fault, really; had she been able to put her distrust aside for even the shortest moment, she would have had a better childhood, and she knew that.

“Yes,” she replied, stepping inside, shrugging her cloak off of her shoulders for him to take. Keera sat down in one of the two chairs that sat near the table and rested her arms on her knees. “Thank you,” she said, genuinely grateful, “for, well, everything.”

Nodding, Keera drummed her fingers against the table’s surface, watching them as she spoke, a smile upon her lips, “What house were you in when you went to school here at Hogwarts?” she asked, assuming that he had in fact attended classes there. She was curious as to which house the hat had chosen to place him in. The house a person was sorted into told a lot about that person. For example, Keera had been placed in Ravenclaw, so she had to be pretty intelligent, and most Ravenclaws kept to themselves, which was also one of her traits, though her motives were different than most's.

Keera’s piercing green eyes darted around the walls, the ceiling, and any other place she could see; she was taking in the details, familiarizing herself with the office so not to feel out of place. The lighting in Wilson’s office was quite a bit brighter than that in Keera’s; she liked to keep hers rather cold because those were two things that helped her relax; a cool temperature and very dim lighting. Keera liked to remember smaller details, such as specific times or book titles- or in that instant, what made up the room she was sitting in- simply because it would feel familiar and safe the next time those details were there.

[I hope you don’t mind my description of Wilson’s office. If it is too off, feel free to correct me]

Keera smiled, she hadn’t expected him to have been sorted into Gryffindor. Maybe Ravenclaw or Slytherin, but Gryffindor had been the last on her list of guesses. It seemed she would be wrong every time she tried to guess anything about Wilson. As for him, well, he could shout out guesses all evening and she was sure he would get at least half of them correct. Sure enough, Wilson guessed what house she had been in, correctly. “Dang it!” she said with a laugh, faking disappointment. “What is it with you? Are you some sort of mind reader? Stalker?” she asked, her voice full of amusement.

“Head of Gryffindor? Well, well, look at you and your important job,” she teased childishly. It was something Keera did without noticing; when she felt comfortable around someone, the childish behavior that she hadn’t allowed herself to act upon during her childhood, broke through. Keera brought her legs up towards her, folding them so that she felt more comfortable sitting there, and started playing with her shoelaces.

Keera took her plate when it was handed to her, thanking Wilson and then the house elf, though she didn’t look in the creature’s direction; she didn’t like the little things, they were often grouchy towards her and Keera once found out that they liked to steal valuable things from your suitcase.

“Do you get along well with the children? She seem so very protective over them, is there a reason for that or are you just dying to play the hero role?” she asked, grinning still. Keera held her glass of pumpkin juice in her hand, taking a sip of it. It felt odd drinking from a glass; she usually transferred all of her drinks from the glass she was given during that meal, to her own flask since there was a possibility of the elves or anyone else there at the school could poison her. Was it caution? No, more like paranoia. She trusted Wilson enough to know that there wouldn’t be anything in her glass of juice other than juice, but it still felt weird to switch things up.

“Good going, you’ve planted suspicion in me,” she replied with a roll of her eyes, though it was obvious that she wasn’t serious. Her cheeks turned a shade that was slightly darker than her usual fair skin when he complimented her once again. Was she…blushing? Knock it off you fool, her mind shouted at her, nagging her relentlessly.

“So far I have been able to keep my temper around the children when they go against what I say or… bring a watch to class,” Keera stated, recalling her past weak or so at Hogwarts, “oh, except for one boy- I never actually learned his name, but I remember him well enough,” she added, speaking of the Gryffindor boy who had challenged her during one of her Herbology classes. She had almost lost her temper with that one,- no, actually, she had- and had been inches away from breaking his nose or giving him a black eye, depending on how hard her fist would have collided with his face. She had gotten lucky; that had been the first time she had ever stopped herself from acting out.

Keera looked down at her hands, which were rested on her shins. She laughed at herself for a moment before looking back up at him. Her thoughts had quieted a bit when Keera felt Wilson brush his fingertips along her cheek, but they started up again as soon as she laughed; it sounded too forced and she knew that. She felt like a fool.