A third empty glass chinks down on the bar beside two others, but only the first carries a trace of the lingering foam of harmless butterbeer. The dregs at the bottom of the second and third carry a far stronger scent, as does the young woman who sits over them, shoulders hunched and cloak hanging loosely about her shoulders. “‘nother rum, thanks…” she barks toward the barman with a brief wave of one hand, before diving into a pocket to full out a few more pieces of change. Julie Wolffe has obviously been here for a while, and though her mood has eased up considerably since she first entered, there’s still creases upon her forehead and a bit of a hotted up gleam to her eyes. The stools either side of her are… quite empty.

Breathing in a sigh of distinct relief as she wanders into the shop, Eva seems rather pleased as she strides into the pub and takes a seat one over from Julie. “Firewhiskey, please,” she asks and grins at the person behind the bar while she waits. She exchanges vague sociabilities with the person behind the bar as he gets her drink, glancing ever several moments at Julie, her eyebrows seeming to knit together in thought. While Eva is not attracted to women particularly, she does run her hand over her corset and her hair to make sure she looks respectable. She’s a vain creature, after all. It seems a long pause after she gets her drink and takes a sip of it before she finally turns to Julie. “You’re… Julie, right?” she asks, her cheeks pinkening ever so slightly at her inability to remember this person who she vaguely remembers from school.

Another small glass of rum is clunked in front of Julie‘s nose shortly after the firewhisky is delivered, and she grunts her thanks to the bartender just as she hears her name spoken. Wrinkling her nose, she twists her body to give the woman a partially squinted stare, idly running a finger about the rim of her glass as she does so. “…yeah?” she answers, wondering for a moment why she’s being addressed at all, before the faintest of memories sparks a hint of recognition in her mind. “You… we were at Hogwarts, right? ‘t the same time, I mean…?” Julie frowns a little as she speaks, and makes absolutely no attempt to recall names. With her mind starting to get addled by all the rum as it is, just visual recognition is quite enough for now!

“Eva Fallon,” the woman offers with a bit of a grin. The glasses in front of Julie seem to demonstrate to Eva that she’s in no way to remember anyway, and why would she? Eva only vaguely remembers her. “Well, I was Eva Wexler at the time. You’ve likely known some of my siblings as well, though… you were in… Slytherin, am I right? I only had one brother in Slytherin, and he was a seventh year when I started. Class of ’18, ah.” Chuckling, Eva moves to the stool next to Julie, watching for her answers, and just hoping that she hasn’t gotten it all wrong. For Eva‘s part, she can’t remember Julie’s last name at all, but this does not seem relevant, as Julie herself isn’t in a place to remember her name, either.

“Mmm-hmmm, Slytherin and proud!” she replies, with a hearty gulp of her drink, giving a slight wriggle as it goes down. “I s’pose I still -am-, now that I’ve gone back there and all…” Julie gives a wry sort of chuckle at this that probably underplays how pleased she is in fact to be working at Hogwarts. Shifting in her seat, she shakes a bit of hair from her face in what might be an attempt to ‘neaten up’, but in truth she looks just as disheveled as she did a moment ago. The thought to offer her surname, of course, doesn’t occur to her in the least. “And you were in….?”

“Ravenclaw,” Eva supplies happily. “Also proud.” It is playfully that she tacks this on, and she chuckles. “So, are you working at Hogwarts, then?” the woman asks congenially, leaning one arm on the bar as she takes a hefty sip of her firewhiskey. It is clear that Eva is enjoying her time not being pregnant for the time being. “A friend of ours recently started there, too, at the start of last year. She teaches Astronomy — Avery Go– er, Fallon. She’s my sister-in-law. I’m sure you know her; I’m not sure why I’m going on at length about it!” Eva laughs happily, and it is clear that the firewhiskey is already starting to take toll on her spirits, making her quite cheerful and red-nosed as she takes another sip.

A brusque nod is offered at the assumption, before Julie takes another swig of her drink. “Yes, yes. At least, see her around in the lounge now and again, though-” here she hiccups, and looks quite surprised at herself for doing so. She blinks, shakes her head, shrugs, and goes on. “Don’ really cross paths too much, see. After all, she works most in the towers, an’ I’m generally out on the grounds. Gamekeeper.” A smile tugs at her lips as she announces her new title, and a little warmth flickers in her expression before creasing back into a frown. “Still! ‘s loads better ‘n some of the others ‘t work there. Humph!” Both elbows bang into the bar as though punctuating her words, and another sip taken.

“Oh,” is all Eva can think to say in response to Julie’s comment about those who work there. After all, the only faculty she knows on the Hogwarts staff are her two sisters-in-law, and Eva cannot help but hope that neither is the subject of this ill-thought. The fire-whiskey does take its effect, however, and just a moment after thinking it, she makes the rash decision to say it. “Well, I should hope Avery and Sibyl aren’t included in these ‘others’.” Eva tries her best to sound cheerful, but her own fierce family loyalty is beginning to overshadow her ability to be cordial as she watches Julie carefully, taking another healthy drink of her whiskey, breathing deeply after such a large swig.

“Sibyl?” The briefest of smiles flits accross Julie‘s face as she echoes the name, and then shakes her head quite firmly. “Oh, nonono. She’s one o’ the nicest ‘n most civil folk there! Only one who offered t’ show me ’round the place proper, too, aside from Keelan ‘fcourse. Crazy how much has changed since I was there, ‘ve youbeen since?” The more she speaks, the more obviously slurred her words have become, but at least she can handle her drinks well enough for her scentences to keep sense to them. She takes another drink, and then slams it down as her thoughts turn to the more sour kind. “‘s that damned Helit man!” Julie suddenly bursts out with a snarl. “That… that… that man!”

“I have, actually! I was the exclusive sweets caterer for the Governor’s Ball there. It’s been wonderful for my shop.” Eva breathes in and sighs happily at this. “Sibyl’s another of my sisters-in-law; lord love her, she married my oldest brother. The things she has to put up with… I don’t know how she does it.” Eva makes it sound as if Basil is perhaps a serial killer the way she says this and shakes her head. “Ah, but my neice, Briony, was sure to tell me all about how the school had rearranged. I wish someone had mentioned that it would be more difficult to find the Great Hall before I tried to get there to set up my sweets, though.” She chuckles, but then her face falls as Julie mentions ‘the Helit man’. “Oh is he the — er — the one who has trouble with women?” is all Eva can manage in response. To be honest, she hasn’t heard a great deal about him, just that he had never looked any woman directly in the eye. “Is he really so bad as all the rumors? And they’re letting him teach still?”

Were she in a better frame of mind, she might have payed a little more attention to the more pleasant topics, and even had her curiosity roused when ‘sweets’ were mentioned. But being in the state she currently is, Julie latches quite firmly onto the topic that has roused her anger. “I d’nno why he’s getting paid t’do aanything at all!” she seethes, her incredulous, furiously confounded expression turned once more to Eva. “He is th’ most irritating! Frustrating! INFURIATING beast of a person I’ve ever met..” her voice becomes startlingly loud, enough so to attract a few glances from other patrons and a bit of a warning glance from the bartender. Then Julie scowls. “…beast is too good a word. I like beasts. He… he…” she waves her hands, fingers tightly curled, in front of her face, and her voice trails off as she tries (and fails) to find the right words to express herself.

“Er, cad?” Eva offers, her hand out flat before her, palm up as if literally offering to her the suggested word. It is not held out for long before Eva takes another drink. Yes, talk about men like this clearly requires Eva to be quite drunk, else she’s liable to be quite as livid and loud as Julie is becomming. “Perhaps you should talk to the headmistress about him. She seems a sensible sort; surely she won’t have someone so — er — well, awful on her staff as him. Or perhaps the governors can do something. Don’t some of the staff have close connections to the Board of Governors anyway?” Eva‘s suggestions all seem so simple, and it is clear she hasn’t quite the full idea of the severity of the situation, nor what the situation specifically is. After all, Sibyl’s never mentioned it in her letters, so Eva‘s at quite a loss.

“If theyaven’tdun anything about ‘im yet, why’d they bother doinanythin’ on my account?” Julie responds, with a fierce little brandish of a her fist. Taking up her glass again, she peers into it, blanches slightly, and then takes a tiny sip with a grunt. “Governors dun’ do anything useful. Argh!” she throws her hands into the air with the sheer frustration of it all, letting loose a -lot- of pent-up tension. “I’ve bin doing my job forhooowlong, now? ‘n he still! Still! Treats me likeIcan’t. Talking me stupid ‘nfront of the students. Actin’ like ‘m gonna be the death of ‘alf the school any minute. All on account o’ me being a girl!”

“Well, he certainly shouldn’t get away with it. Women are not dolls to be ordered about. We’re intelligent beings!” Shaking her head, Eva finishes off her firewhiskey and frowns, the annoyance of the situation getting to herself finally. “I hold that you ought to take it to the Headmistress. I wouldn’t be letting him get away with it. I mean, I work and run a perfectly good shop, which I own, with only the help of my cousin — I can’t make candy, after all, though I make dandy tarts — and my husband, bless him, stays at home with our kids. Actually, my brother’s doin’at too, so Sibyl can work at the school! He moved an’ everything! Eva‘s own speech slurs a bit, though she still has quite a bit more control over her speech than Julie has, it appears.

“‘n we can handle bigger ‘n fiercer beasts ‘n he EVERcould, too!” Julie interjects her own piece to Eva’s ‘speech’, as though it were the most perfectly appropriate statement that any self-respecting woman should be proud to uphold. Yes; ‘Woman Can Handle Bigger Animals Than Quintus’ …if that was a sticker, she’d probably have it plastered all over the front door of her hut. “Mebbe I’ll see’er..” she finally tones down a fraction, eyeing her drink carefully as she swirls it, then takes a hearty gulp that comes awfully close to draining it. “Whoo! Thattits the spot.” She pauses then, looking a touch confused for a moment, then carries on. “Yeah. Mebbe I’ll try ‘n talk to ‘eadmistress.” Again that confused expression, before her brain makes a connection. “Y’sell candy? Not ‘oneydukes, though…?”

Eva lets out a bit of a sputtering laugh and clutches her side as Julie nearly shouts this to the whole room. “Thanks,” she tells the man and takes her newly full glass of firewhiskey, taking a healthy swig. “Hooo,” she pauses and takes a deep breath. “Well, I used to co-own Honeydukes. S’a long story,” she tells Julie a wide grin. “We basically fell back on our sheer skills of persuasion to get the store. It was doin’ alright, but then we both started having kids and it was getting crowded, and when I married Tommy, it jus’ wasn’t fitting to live together above the shop anymore, so I was going to move out, and instead of just moving into Hogsmeade, I moved to Diagon Alley and bought an old shop there and set up Cordial Confections. Innit catchy?” Eva looks quite proud of this name indeed. “An’ I’ve been there a couple’a years now, and we’re doing pretty well. We sell little cakes and tarts and things, too, rather than just sweets. Think of it as Honeydukes, only higher scale.” She nods cheerfully and grins at Julie.

“Ne’er really gone anywhere bu’ ‘oneydukes fer sweets,” Julie admits, toying with her glass as she stares almost a little too hard at that last drop of rum at the bottom. Not to mention, of course, that Julie had gone quite a time without sweets of any sort when paying the rent had been a bit of a struggle. “‘llave t’come by sometime. Tarts’re good. Y’got carmemmeltarts?” Now that she’s ‘triumphed’ over her seething anger, falling back to the pleasant topic of sweets is a fair bit easier.

“Ah, yes, finally perfected them last week. They go so fast, though, I’ll have to think of a faster way to make them.” Eva chuckles as she says this, clearly not bothered by the prospect of selling twice or even three times as many tarts of just that one type. “The blazeberry ones are the favorite, though. I might even have to hire someone else just to help me keep up with demand. That ball was just the thing to help my shop prosper. Not that Honeydukes ‘s bad, by any means, o’course.” Eva shakes her head fervently. “I could never say that; I was part of making it what it is t’day.” With a grin on her face, Eva rummages through her pockets. Alas, no cards. “Well, I haven’t any cards right now, but we’re in Diagon Alley. The blue and purple sign. You should definitely stop by. Best to come either early in the morning or around closing time; the kiddies clog up the shop the rest of the time.”

Julie Wolffe grins broadly, albeit crookedly, and gives a firm series of nods. “Oh, ‘llbe sure to!” she says, and at the same moment makes the firm decision to finish off her drink, tilting the glass high to tip the final few drops down her throat. Clunking the now-empty glass with the other three, Julie eyes the for a moment, then casts her gaze over to the row of bottles shelved behind the bar, then looks guiltily back toward Eva with a small shrug. “S’pose I shoulddn’ ‘ave anymore,” she hiccups, wrinkling her nose and then resigning to the fact. “‘spent enough o’ my change alriddy.” At that, she gives a chortle, and pushes back her seat a touch. “‘ctually, Ishould prob’ly be off. Buck’ll be wantin’ is feed. Blasted rain. A goat should be able t’ feed ‘isself!” But these grumbles are good natured enough, and the woman gives Eva a fair nod as she slides off her barstool. “Wasnice chattin’ though! Seeyouround, eh?”

Putting her hand out and standing as Julie does, Eva smiles broadly. Now, why hadn’t she met this woman at school? Of course, Eva was different now. She puts the thought out of her head and chuckles belatedly about the goat. “Well, I imagine goats are a little like men, and they’re just too damn dependent to bother doing it themselves.” It is with a wink that she says this and then she pauses. “Well, perhaps goats are a little better. They’re not likely to order you around and tell you you’re a waste of space. Ah, well.” It is another pause before Eva sputters, “But then, Tommy’s never said that to me.” Shaking her head at her own near-mishap, she shrugs and breathes deeply, finishing off her firewhiskey in a rather brave gulp. “HOOO. Yes, anyway, stop by soon! I’ll be seeing you!” And whether Julie has shaken her hand or not, Eva turns and makes her way out of the tavern, in higher spirits than she had even entered it and a muffled CRACK is heard from outside, signifying that Eva has apparated, presumably back to her home.

Fingers intwined, gently tugging on her arm to lead her to the courtyard, Joseph affects a rather self-assured smile, a sort of knowing, thoughtful expression. “Alright, here.” He offers quietly as they enter the courtyard. “The present isn’t something that I had to take you here to see, but it’s rather more private in here than in the common room.” Offering only this by way of an explanation, he releases her hand, stepping back and leaning back against a wall, watching her in silence, silently begging her to ask what his purpose is, what the surprise birthday present is.

“Can I open my eyes now?” she asks, reaching forward with her arm until she touches his chest with her fingertips. She does cheat ever so slightly and peek one eyelid open to check to see where she is. Ah, the courtyard. “So, can I?” she asks again, stepping forward a little closer to him, with her eye shut again. Noémie doesn’t want to cheat too much, after all. It’s her surprise!

Shaking his head – not that Noémie can actually see him, but it’s the principle of the thing – Joseph is silent for a moment before offering, “No, not yet,” and leaning forward and kissing her. As well as being part of the surprise, this ensures that she is thoroughly distracted and is therefore not necessarily going to notice as he slips the silver band off his finger and, taking her right hand, slips it onto hers. It’s rather too big, his hands being bigger than hers, but it’s the principle of the thing.

In his estimations that she will be distracted, Joseph is quite right and she leans against him rather comfortably, leaning her head on his shoulder. However, as she feels something cold slipping onto her right hand, her eyes fly open and she stands up. “Oh, my!” She exclaims, putting her hand closer to her face to examine it. “It’s so pretty, Joseph!” Noémie seems to be quite pleased with her gift and, in fact, throws her arms around Joseph’s neck, kissing at his face enthusiastically.

Flushed quite pink, Joseph only replies sheepishly, “It’s – it’s nothing really special, it’s more sentimental than anything. I’ve worn it myself for a long time, so my hand feels sort of naked and empty without it.” Then, he chuckles softly to himself and explains, in the language of teenage boys who don’t know what else to say so fall back on corny compliments, “But it’s appropriate, because I feel naked and empty without you, Noémie.” At this point, he really does run out of things to say, and so dissipates his embarassment by returning her excited kisses, his arms snaking around her waist.

Listening to his comments about the ring, Noémie‘s face pinkens and she seems to go temporarily weak in the knees as she looks at the ring more closely, transferring it from her regular ring finger over to her thumb so that it won’t fall off. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she tells him, rapturous eyes turned up towards him as she just looks at him for a moment. It seems a moment before it occurs to her that now might be the appropriate time to give her gift to him. “Oh!” she exclaims aloud and detatches herself from his arms carefully, pointing out her wand. “Accio gift!” is said loudly, and soon a rather large box comes flying on its way towards her, though it takes a moment in coming.

Smiling at the prefect, cheeks still flushed quite brightly pink, Joseph seems totally devoid of any comeback except for, “That’s my job. Saying ridiculously sweet things to you, and beating down any other guy who dares to try.” As the box flies in, he raises his eyebrows, glancing between it and Noémie. “Er. Is this my birthday present, or are you just going to open the rest of your gifts in front of me, just to taunt me?”

“I’ll tell Rupert to watch his back then,” Noémie quips with a grin, and then brandishes the gift, wrapped in green with ample amounts of blue ribbon. “It’s for you, smartie-pants. You ought to know me better than that.” The box is rather sizable, and being filled entirely with gourmet sweets of various kinds, as well as a book of recipes for candy making, is rather heavy. “I hope it doesn’t pale in comparison.” She can’t help but look down at her own ring, and though she finds herself thinking of resizing it, the sentiment in which it has been given is mostly what is on her mind.

“Yeah, he’d better watch his back.” Joseph replies sternly, planting his hands on his hips and looking very pointedly at Noémie. “Or I’ll clock him one when he’s least expecting it. And you wouldn’t want me to get in trouble again.” Distracted at this point by the fact that, indeed, it is his gift, he bends down to open it – then, spying what is within it, wastes now time in springing upright again and seizing Noémie around the waist, kissing her firmly before she has a chance to step away. Does it pale in comparison? Well, if it does, this ought to fix it.

Giggling a bit as he draws her in again, Noémie watches as he sets the gift carefully down on the ground and then rather happily leans against him again, kissing him back quite enthusiastically. A better birthday, she could not have hoped for herself. Even as a light rain begins to trickle down over their heads, she does not even pause, instead snaking her arms up around his neck and rising ever so slightly on tiptoes. The better to kiss him with, of course!

The rain, of course, simply means that other people are far less likely to randomly walk in and interrupt them; for his part, Joseph seems not at all put out by the rain, pulling the prefect closer with one arm, the other hand running through her hair and brushing against the back of her neck. When he does inch back from her after a moment, it is only to smile a little sheepishly and whisper, just loud enough for her to hear, “Happy birthday, weeping willow tree Noémie.”

“Happy birthday, Joseph,” Noémie responds rather cheerfully, glancing up at the rain and then shaking her head. Rain had never yet ruined her birthday, and it certainly wasn’t going to marr this one. The girl giggles a bit and deliberately runs her hands backwards through his hair, grinning as it stands on end. As there is nobody else in the courtyard, and few who would venture into this part of it, the more secluded area, she feels comfortable leaning up and kissing him quite enthusiastically, with complete disregard of whatever could happen. Happy birthday, indeed.

Rain might not be putting a damper on a certain birthday, but it sure put a certain billy goat out of sorts! Some students may have caught sight of the black and white fellow grazing on the lawns the past few days, but Buck is probably a stranger to the bulk of the student population at present– as is Julie Wolffe, his owner, and Hogwarts’ new Gamekeeper. Little hooves trippety-trot on the cobblestones, followed by Ms Wolffe’s brisk steps to keep up with him, muttering all the while as she goes. “It’s not my fault it started raining, Buck! You know you could just stay out there if you weren’t such a little sook… besides, I’m supposed to be meeting this Syril… Cecily… Sybil… person out here soon…” all this is said under her breath, as she adjusts the hood of her robes, and her gaze darts about for somewhere appropriately undercover– secluded– to wait with Buck until the Hogwarts Nurse arrives.

Though, briefly, a look of annoyance passes over Joseph‘s face – his hair is sticking up all funny, now, it’s going to take at least thirty seconds before it flattents itself back down to normal! – he is quite promptly distracted again, and stops caring fairly immediately. Needless to say, he reciprocates the kiss with equal enthusiasm, one hand running through her hair, while his other hand trails slowly up her side, starting at her hip and moving upwards. It’s quite potentially problematic that at this point, he doesn’t notice or really care about the approach of the new gamekeeper; if, at this point, he is still paying enough attention to the world around him to hear the clip-clop of hooves and footsteps, he probably writes it off as being particularly heavy raindrops. Or something. Anything to stop him actually paying attention to what’s going on around him.

For her own part, Noémie does not even notice the clip-clop of the goat’s hooves and instead focusses on the boy in front of her and the tingles that she’s feeling. Despite their repetitions and variations on this very same scenario often over the last several weeks, she can’t help but feel a tingly euphoric feeling when they indulge again. As if she knows of his annoyance with her mussing of his hair, the girl smooths it down and then stands higher on her tiptoes and hugs him tighter around the neck.

Julie Wolffe ‘s keen roving eyes make quick work of the courtyard, and soon she spots what she believes to be the ideal alcove to hover in with Buck until the nurse arrives. But a step closer and another squint causes the Gamekeeper to freeze, double-take spectacularly, and instinctively grab the goat by the horns. First her eyes widen, then she gives a small shake of her head as though to dismiss it, then another stare- no, that’s most definitely two students, not a creature with four arms wearing school robes- at which she finds her cheeks burning bright red. Drawing a breath and making to turn around and pretend she didn’t see aaaanything, her plans of a silent getaway are foiled when, in protest to being held fast to the spot, Buck lets out a terrific, monster of a bleat, shattering through the gentle patter of rain in the courtyard.

Pulling away from the girl only long enough to adjust his angle, so as not to injure his neck, and swooping in immediately to resume the supposedly private kissing, Joseph hesitates for a moment, his hand rested on Noémie’s ribcage. Dare he? Well, seeing as they’re quite alone, and it is very nearly his birthday, why not? Yes, he certainly does dare to – but only briefly, indeed, for the loud bleating of the goat cannot be ignored, even in this state. Almost jumping out of his skin at the sound, and certainly untangling himself as thoroughly as possible from Noémie, cheeks flushed scarlet, his eyes dart around the courtyard for the source of the sound. Eyes falling on Julie and the goat, he seems incapable of any response other than a mortified, frozen expression. The word here is ‘ohgodohgodohgodi’mintroublenow’.

“Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry I’m late, Miss Wolffe!” Sibyl Wexler bursts out of the castle at an energetic waddle, calling out to Julie with a wave. The nurse scarcely gives a glance upwards at the rain, but just tugs her cloak a little more tightly around her ample form and bulging belly as she bustles down the stairs into the courtyard and towards the new staff member. “Were you waiting long? I did mean to be here sooner, only there was a terrible outbreak of antlers, and – ” Sibyl‘s rapid stream of chatter breaks off abruptly – she too has seen Joseph and Noémie, and she stops short on the second-to-last step. “Oh my.” Sibyl‘s expression is somewhere between shock and amusement as she looks down at her young relative and his friend, tangled in their frantic struggle to pull apart.

Turning quite red as the voices and the bleating of the goat fill the courtyard, Noémie, too struggles to detatch herself from him and tucks her arms quickly behind her back, stepping away from the other Ravenclaw. Oh, dear, staff members. This cannot bode well for the prefect, whose job it is to set a good example, rather than to snog in private areas on the grounds. Or at all for that matter. The girl, for her own part, appears rendered speechless as she just looks from Julie to Sibyl and back again with a very red face.

When Sibyl reaches Julie, the new Gamekeeper is poised with both hands cupped over her face from her nose to her chin, largely covering the open-mouthed expression of shock and amusement that is otherwise evident in her eyes. In a normal situation she’d probably have launched into a dozen reasons why Sibyl shouldn’t be sorry, but being as it is, she simply offers a bit of a choking snort, a sidewards glance, and a slow lowering of hands to reveal her biting her lower lip. But where Julie Wolffe remains frozen and utterly unsure what action to take, Buck has no such trouble! With a much softer, garbled sort of bleat from the back of his throat, and the freedom he attained when Julie‘s hands were flung up to cover her mouth, he ambles forwards to join the pair of students. They’re in the shelter, right? So that’s where he wants to be! And before then can even fully extricate themselves, the billygoat has reared onto his hind legs, planted his forehooves on the boy’s upper arms, and stretched up to try and nibble his earlobe.

Of all people to suddenly walk in and catch an eyeful of Joseph and his girlfriend in the courtyard, why oh why did it have to be Sibyl Wexler and the new gamekeeper? Flushed positively scarlet, the boy lowers his gaze to the ground, clearing his throat and kicking at the ground with one foot. “I, uh — hello, Madame Wexler.” He is utterly mortified, it seems. “I was just, uh, we were, I just gave her a birthday present and, um, her birthday’s today, which is the day before my birthday, which is tomorrow, uh, which I’m sure you knew before, seeing as we’re related and all and, um, yeah, so we were – that is, me and, and Noémie – we were just swapping our gifts…” While Noémie falls into an awkward silence, it falls upon him to ramble incessantly until someone silences him. “Just gifts and, er, you really rather took me, and probably us, by surprise there, so, um, we weren’t really doing anything too untoward, I promise… how much did you two see, anyway?” Sure. That’s reeeally going to get him out of hot water. Especially as there’s now a goat trying to eat him, a goat which he, startled, pushes away from him quite abruptly, almost stumbling over backwards as he tries to escape it.

Sibyl presses her mouth tightly shut as she listens to the two students’ protests, but no matter how hard she tries, she cannot keep her lips from twitching up at the corners. “Happy birthday,” is all that she can say, and the words quiver with affectionate but barely-restrained amusement. And then Buck springs forward, and Sibyl lets out a startled cry. “Oh! Oh, dear, are you all right? Miss Wolffe, can you get him back?” But even amid the nurse’s concern for Joseph, sparks of laughter still dance in her eyes, and there is a giggle just behind her voice.

Buck finds himself pushed against, and totters briefly on his hind legs, forehooves waving fruitlessly in the air. He lets out another bleat, more anxious sounding, before his front hooves return neatly to the ground and his world makes sense once more. But the abrumpt action from the boy has nonetheless triggered a reaction of sorts in the billy, who promptly lowers his head and bunches up in a most telling fashion, muscles coiling and aim being readied…

“Thank you,” Noémie responds quietly, her eyes darting to Joseph after she says this. She can’t help but look in a bit of horror as the goat begins trying to eat his ear. It seems, however, that she is rendered speechless by the scene before her. Two faculty before her, her boyfriend being attacked by a goat, and all Noémie can do is stare mutely as it all unfolds. What a situation to be in for the girl who has a Quidditch match coming up soon for the Quidditch cup, and whose demeanor is usually quite reserved, so as not to cause any undue attention to her, and therefore accrue no point losses or detentions. All is lost now, as she will have to submit to whatever the teachers decide is appropriate for the two of them. Of all the days to get caught!

Of course, the prospect of a student being harmed by an animal is about the last thing to ever cross Julie‘s mind, as it usually functions much the other way around… but most especially when the animal involved is her own! But as the kindly Ms Wexler calls out in concern, the Gamekeeper seems to startle back into the moment and darts forward to grab a hold of the animal before he carries out his threatened charge. One hand gripping hard and fast at the base of his horns, she urges him gently backwards and crouches down beside him once they’re back beside Sibyl. As far as the students go, however… looking back up to them, the grin returns back to her features and a laugh threatens to bubble from her throat. “Yes. Happy Birthday.” She coughs, looks briefly to the nurse for direction, then shrugs with a snort. “I daresay the world would be a happier place if everyone could exchange gifts that way, mm?”

Without any grace or agility, the charging goat just means Joseph falls backwards onto his backside, his arms flying up to try and shield him from the goat. Certainly, Julie intercepts the goat before it gets to him, though the way he is kicking and waving his arms, it is possible that he hasn’t actually noticed this. When he realises that his efforts to scare off the goat are entirely unnecessary, he picks himself up and clears his throat audible, his cheeks flushed quite pink as he mutters, “It was a very good birthday present, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Oh, good!” Sibyl breathes out a heavy sigh of relief as Joseph emerges unharmed from his struggle with the goat, and even glances down at Buck with a vague smile. “Thank you, Miss Wolffe,” she adds, giving her fellow staff member a more secure and more honest smile. Joseph’s remark draws an odd coughing sound from Sibyl, but she chokes it back, and enters upon a mighty struggle to push her expression back towards seriousness. “Joseph, Noémie, dears,” the nurse begins, still desperately trying to keep the amused quiver out of her voice as she looks down at the students, “don’t you really think you should…go somewhere more private? With…fewer goats?” Another choked cough escapes from Sibyl, and one broad hand flies up to her mouth in an increasingly vain effort to suppress – or at least hide – her grin.

Startled, Noémie looks at Joseph with wide eyes. Of all the things to say! And to a staff member, even! As Sibyl makes her statement, the horror on Noémie‘s face doesn’t decrease, and she looks to Joseph, to Julie, and then back to Sibyl as she stammers for a moment. “Well — we — we didn’t plan this at all, we were just going to exchange gifts, otherwise we’re usually in more private places — ER — that is — what I meant to say …” She trails off, her face turning very red as she finishes this haphazard statement, and she can’t help but just look helplessly at the nurse, hoping upon hope that the two of them won’t get detentions or point losses for it.

Where Sibyl has at least some success in suppressing her amusement, Julie Wolffe fails abysmally. First ‘a very good present’, then ‘fewer goats’ then ‘usually more private’ …and the Gamekeeper loses it, her snorted laughter and helpless chuckles bursting out, shoulders shaking in mirth even as she keeps a tight grip about Buck’s horns. “Oh, goodness, oh, dear. Oh dear.” Between her chuckles, Julie manages to get a few words out, and the more she tries to speak the more she regains control of her voice. She lifts her free hand as though to silence the girl, and gulps back another bout of giggles. “-best not tell us what you usually do, Miss. But Sibyl- I mean, Mrs Wexler is right. There’s far more private places to go about sharing…” Snort. “Those sorts.” Twitter. “Of gifts!”

Flushed brilliant pink, Joseph gathers himself together, unable to see the inherent humour in the situation, reaching out to grab at Noémie’s wrist. “Come on,” he offers to her, his voice rather strained. “Can, can we just go… somewhere else? Please?” Glancing sidelong at Sibyl, he adds, “And… you won’t… tell anyone, will you S-Madam Wexler?” He’s mortified enough as it is without using the wrong name.

And Sibyl had been doing so well, too! When Julie starts to lose it, so does she – the nurse’s careful composure erupts into helpless giggles, and she reaches out to brace herself against the new gamekeeper with a hand on Julie’s arm. “Oh – oh my,” Sibyl chokes. “You’re not in trouble, dear,” she manages to say, between fits of laughter. “Really, you’re not. Just – not in the courtyard! Really, there are plenty of spots in the rose garden, and several rooms on the fifth floor that nobody goes to, and – ahem!” Sibyl cuts off again, with a quite different kind of choked sound as she clears her throat loudly. “Er. Right. Yes. Just not in the courtyard where everyone can see.”

“Yes, Madam Wexler, of course,” Noémie answers the woman with a nod, and a diversion of her eyes, though when she diverts them, the only fall on Joseph, her face still very red. Oh, what a birthday this has been. “We’ll… we’ll, er, keep that in mind for next time.” No amount of pleading and trying to tell her that it wasn’t planned, that it had all been spontaneous, is going to quell the embarrassment that fills the prefect right now, though a good amount of relief floods her as Sibyl assures them that they aren’t in trouble.

Of course, Julie is still a little too new to the place to really feel comfortable telling anybody off yet- not to mention that she scarcely knows any students NAMES yet, so wouldn’t know who she was telling off even if she tried! Suffice to say, the students are certainly safe from her at the moment. She grins back up to Sibyl as she steadies herself upon her, and then when they’ve both regained composure she pulls a lead and a collar from inside her robes, clips them neatly onto Buck, and stands back up with the goat firmly in check. Giving a brisk shake of her head to shake some droplets from her hair, she offers the students a curt nod and then turns her full attention back to the nurse. “Well! I’d best get Buck back to the stables, keep him out of the weather… and then, perhaps, you can start by showing me around -inside- the Castle?”

Coughing a few times and tugging at Noémie’s arm, Joseph seems to want nothing more than to get out of there. “It was nice, uh, seeing you, Madame Wexler.” His voice rather higher-pitched than usual, and offered at a rather low volume, he departs just as quickly as he possibly can, his box of sweets in one arm, gesturing for Noémie to follow him hastily with the other arm. As he thinks he’s out of earshot of the faculty members, possibly to himself, possibly to Noémie, he adds, “Okay, step one, find somewhere actually private….”

One more “Ahem!” brings Sibyl nearly back to normal, but there is still a twinkle in her eyes and a grin on her face as she nods. “Yes, Miss Wolffe, that would probably be best. I’ll meet you in the main entryway. And you two should get inside too,” she adds to Joseph and Noémie. “You don’t want to catch cold!”

Noémie pauses, staring a moment as Sibyl says this, and then shakes her head, quickly following Joseph as he makes his way into the school. Perhaps the two of them can find these rooms on the fifth floor and put them to good use. The two of them very much could use a distraction now, after all. As she trots along down the hallway with Joseph, Noémie finds herself twiddling the ring on her thumb and smiling to herself despite what has just happened. Yes, even though she’s embarrassed as can be, it was still a happy birthday.