Home Sweet Home

[Claude Laroche]

The late autumn weather chilled Claude’s skin even with her heavy cloak pulled around her small frame. She had woken up early that morning to head up to the Owlery to have both a letter delivered and to drop off her own pet. Her fellow roommates hadn’t appreciated her tropical bird’s constant stream of squawks and random phrases. So now she was walking up the outer stairs to reach her destination, watching for patches of ice and other potential hazards while holding a cage that held a cranky parrot.

“Froid! Froid! Très froid!” The green cheeked parrot squawked as it buried his deep into his wing feathers. “Sauf moi! Très froid!”

Claude pitied her pet, but her roommates were right. Bijoux could get very annoying very quickly. “Bijoux! Tais-toi et soyez tranquille pendant une fois dedans votre vie!” She snapped as she pushed open the heavy door that kept all the warmth inside of the Owlery. The first thing she saw as her eyes adjusted to the darker lighting were the random pellets that littered the floor. She cringed and her body stiffened as the images of the rodents that made up the pellets used to look like before they had gone through various owls’ gullets. “Je suis désolé que tu devies rester ici, Bijoux. Je promets de te rendre visite toutes les fois que j'ai le temps, mais juste parce que tu obtenes la sympathie ne signifie pas que tu ne deves pas tirer votre part du poids autour d'ici. Aidez les elfs de maison jusqu'à ce qu'il fasse plus chaud, puis tu pouves fournir des messages encore.” She added before setting the parrot’s cage on the window sill and opening it to let the bird free into its temporarily new home.

Bijoux was putting up a fuss like usual so Claude resorted to putting her hand in the bird’s cage and pulling his taloned feet from his perch and forced him to rest on her finger, her thumb holding him in place. She took him out of the cage and proceeded to just walk around, avoiding the owl pellets, so that the bird could get used to the place. After a few minutes of nothing but soothing words on her part, Bijoux poked his head out from under his wing and looked around.
The French girl smiled to herself, glad that the Owlery was warm enough for her pet and that he had regained his curiosity. Slowly she relieved the pressure her thumb had put on his feet and let the bird open his wings and take flight. Her smile grew as she went to sit on the window sill, letter to her family in hand, watching Bijoux fly in circles squawking his obnoctious head off. Soon the owls were hooting back and all seemed well. That is until she couldn’t get a single owl’s attention so that she could deliver her letter.

[katniss]

Katniss stared up at the ceiling in her dormitory, idly twirling a loose thread on her comforter around her finger. She was bored. She'd been bored all day, ignoring whatever homework she had been assigned and instead sleeping for about thirteen hours, ignoring everyone and everything. But she had spent up all her sleep time and was now about as tired as she would be if she had just drunk an entire gallon of Red Bull. And what now? She sighed and rolled out of her bed, landing lightly on the cold wooden floor. Where was there to go? Not the library, of course, and all of her friends were. . . well, she didn't have that many friends, and she didn't know where any of them were. The owlery, maybe? She'd always loved just sitting in there watching the owls fly around, listening to them hoot and stroking their sleek feathers. She didn't have an owl of her own, although she'd rather like one.

The sun was trying to peek over the horizon, clawing it's way up into the sky in an effort to spread it's warmth and joy over the camp. A cold breeze suddenly wafted through, chilling her to the bone. Katniss shivered and pulled her thin sweater more tightly around her; she wasn't expecting it to be quite that cold. But, thankfully, the wind was away before long. It was shaping up to be a nice day--no clouds except for the wispy, threadlike, white feather clouds of ice crystals, cirrus clouds that held no promise of rain. Katniss, although she had absolutely nothing against rain, loved the feeling of the sun on her skin. Rain just didn't make being outside as enjoyable as it generally was. While she knew it was pretty important for the world to have rain, she didn't really like to stand outside while it poured and she got soaked to the bone. It just wasn't her idea of a good time. The sun was a welcome arrival in these times as well, since it had been fighting the mists and the grey haze for months now.

The Owlery came into view and she smiled as she walked up the stairs, being careful not to slip on the ice. It was always hard for her to walk on frozen stairs, frozen floors, frozen anything, really, since she had a bit of a penchant for being rather clumsy. She gripped onto the wall to steady herself, breathing deeply from the steep climb. She stepped into the warm, humid air of the Owlery--really, the only bad part of the place was the smell--and stopped when she noticed someone standing by the owls. It was a girl, that much she could discern, but she was fairly certain she wasn't a Hufflepuff, and she couldn't even hazard a guess at her name. "Hello there!" she said brightly, moving towards her. "Are you having trouble?"

--- W O R D S - not enough ):
--- T A G G E D - claude
--- L I S T E N I N G T O - n/a
--- N O T E S - n/a
--- CREDITS -
drfrankensara of CAUTION for the header
baylee of CAUTION for the text

[Claude Laroche]

Claude jumped, trying to catch the flying owls, her fingers brushing against their feathers just before they were out of reach once more. The ones that stayed roosted were still out of her reach, choosing to remain close to and within the rafters of the small tower. Her patience was wearing thin, dangerously thin, and she was frustrated. Why did her damn bird have to be so stupid and get himself kicked out of the dorms? If Bijoux had kept his mouth shut for once in his sorry little life, she wouldn’t be acting like a crazed maniac trying to get someone to deliver her letter, or standing in owl pellets. She looked down at her feet just as she felt something beneath it go ‘squish’. Lifting her foot off the item, the French girl saw the mess of bone and fur that was once a shrew.

She screamed before slapping a hand over her mouth and backing away from the broken pellet, her eyes wide. She was a few feet away from it now, but her back had hit a hot wall, a human wall. Her hand was already in place to stop herself from screaming again, so she turned to great whom ever had witnessed her moment of weakness. It was a girl, but defiantly not a Ravenclaw, and with no school uniform to tell what house she belonged to, it was 33.333% chance that she would guess correctly.

“Um... Hello,” She said once she had regained her composure and had removed her hand. “I did not hear you come in. Sorry if I scared you. The ghost of the pellet can haunt me for breaking it. I do not want a rat following me places all the time. But owls are not helping. Mine cannot take letter, and others will not hold still.” She admitted, revealing the letter she meant to send from her back pocket.

Remembering her manners, Claude stuck out her hand. “I am Claude Laroche, fifth year Ravenclaw.”