Cassiopeia - Printable Version
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Cassiopeia - Alice Dawson - November 13, 2020
Long ago in a sky built before us
A supernova grew up to be stardust
November 13th, 1890 — The Astronomy Tower
Nights where they had Astronomy were among Alice's least favorite nights. She understood the general premise of the class and knew enough to ensure a passing grade, but that's where her interest stopped. The stars were just that — stars. Using them for guidance was a nifty trick, sure, but Alice knew she wouldn't rely upon them often. The only worthwhile piece of information to remember was the moon's cycle, and even that was more for her potions than any love for Astronomy.
She had pulled away from the group of Gryffindors nearly immediately upon entering the tower, intending to buddy up with Calla for the class. However, Calla had already found a partner which left Alice floundering. She could ask Sisse or Edison, but she was still battling both the guilt of sharing her fight with Cameron with Sisse and her ever present feelings for Edison. Staying up that night to read and chat with him had been a mistake, one she couldn't dare repeat again. (Even if she did long for more nights of just that.)
With all her usual partners taken, Alice approached another Hufflepuff, a Mr. Evermonde, instead. "Hello," she greeted. Despite sharing classes for four years Alice couldn't think of a single instance in which they had been partners. "Would it be alright if I joined you?"
RE: Cassiopeia - Edmund Evermonde - November 13, 2020
Nights where they had Astronomy were some of Edmund's favorite nights. The class wasn't his favorite, but it wasn't his least favorite either. It was the atmosphere that made it all worth it; the more nights Edmund had spent at Hogwarts, the more nights he realized how productive he could be when the sun went down and the moonlight sparkled on the surface of the water outside of the little window in his dorm room. He wondered how the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws could sleep when their dorms provided such a view—not that he would ever ask them.
The only issue he had with Astronomy was the professor's apparent preference for partnered activities. Edmund had always thrived on his own, so to have his grade dependent on another's effort always added an unnecessary amount of stress. Fortunately that night it was not one of the slackers who asked to pair with him, but one of the smarter students in his class.
Miss Dawson was Gryffindor in his year. He'd spoken to her before, but never beyond basic pleasantries and small talk suited for students in different houses. They were due to partner in class after spending nearly three and a half years in the same classes, he supposed.
"Of course," he responded, scrambling to collect the supplies that he'd dumped at his feet during the lecture. He had his star charts—always neat, always pretty, and always a little too decorative for what was necessary—along with his quills, his textbook, and an ungodly amount of parchment that was rolled and tied together with a string. He motioned for her to follow him to a more private spot, farther away from the chattering students who had settled on the ground to do their work in pairs near the telescopes. He always preferred working in the shadows in the Astronomy Tower, anyways; it was quieter and provided less distractions.
He dumped his supplies once he found the perfect spot and moved to take a seat.
"So we're supposed to chart the position of the stars for the night of Christmas Eve," he said quietly, already opening the text book. "I suppose that'll be no problem for you," he added with a glance in her direction.
The only issue he had with Astronomy was the professor's apparent preference for partnered activities. Edmund had always thrived on his own, so to have his grade dependent on another's effort always added an unnecessary amount of stress. Fortunately that night it was not one of the slackers who asked to pair with him, but one of the smarter students in his class.
Miss Dawson was Gryffindor in his year. He'd spoken to her before, but never beyond basic pleasantries and small talk suited for students in different houses. They were due to partner in class after spending nearly three and a half years in the same classes, he supposed.
"Of course," he responded, scrambling to collect the supplies that he'd dumped at his feet during the lecture. He had his star charts—always neat, always pretty, and always a little too decorative for what was necessary—along with his quills, his textbook, and an ungodly amount of parchment that was rolled and tied together with a string. He motioned for her to follow him to a more private spot, farther away from the chattering students who had settled on the ground to do their work in pairs near the telescopes. He always preferred working in the shadows in the Astronomy Tower, anyways; it was quieter and provided less distractions.
He dumped his supplies once he found the perfect spot and moved to take a seat.
"So we're supposed to chart the position of the stars for the night of Christmas Eve," he said quietly, already opening the text book. "I suppose that'll be no problem for you," he added with a glance in her direction.
RE: Cassiopeia - Alice Dawson - November 13, 2020
Her collection of supplies seemed lacking in comparison to the bundles he snatched up. It wasn't just Alice who needed supplies anymore, but Bridget and Callum as well, leading her stash to slowly dwindle over the years. She would manage, somehow, she supposed. All Alice needed to do was learn how to properly duplicate parchment and she would be all set. Each of her previous attempts had led to the paper disintegrating within a week.
She followed him over to the corner, grateful to not have to be near any of her friends or their curious glances. The fight with Cameron had caused a divide so severe Alice was now constantly battling the urge to flee whenever their paths crossed. She might've succumbed, too, if the thought of skipping a class didn't leave her with a sense of unease so strong it was nauseating.
Mr. Evermonde's star chart was lovely in comparison with her own neatly drawn one. Hers had only the basic, required details with some notes scribbled in the margins. She always meant to tidy it up more, to transfer those scribbled notes into her much neater notebook for the class, but something else always took precedence. Be it her tutoring sessions with Cameron or tending to her plot for gardening club. Astronomy just simply never ranked high enough on her priority list for it to be a major concern. Although, looking at his now, perhaps she ought to have paid it more mind.
Alice followed him in opening up her textbook, but furrowed her brows at his comment. She knew she was regarded as one of the more knowledgeable amongst their class, but she didn't think she had ever come across as condescending. Was that why Cameron had been so quick to become vicious? Had he harbored resentment over the past four years only for it all to explode now? Was she wrong to readily offer help? Alice dropped her eyes back onto her textbook and fought against the onslaught of emotions. Now wasn't the time to be considering such thoughts, not when Cameron was within the same room as she.
"I don't think it'll be too difficult, no," Alice answered mildly. "I apologize if I reverse some of the stars, I have a habit of doing that at first glance." It was why she knew to revise and edit her work until it was perfection.
RE: Cassiopeia - Edmund Evermonde - November 13, 2020
He looked through his textbook, unaware of the range of emotions Miss Dawson was experiencing two feet in front of him. His style of doing classwork usually involved getting right to the relevant material, doing the assignment based on what made sense, and then going back to see if he missed anything and rework it from there. On more than one occasion that approach had earned him extra points for a unique perspective and ingenious problem-solving, but Astronomy was a little different. There weren't more than one way to chart the stars—there was a right way and a wrong way. Without leeway for creative responses, he was left to express himself artistically.
He shyly opened his star chart up so it was fully visible on the floor beneath them. The angles and degrees were written out for easy referencing, and there were even illustrations depicting the constellations' namesakes that began to sparkle on the page as his hand crossed over the section of the parchment.
"We can use it as our reference," he said by way of explanation, hoping she would not judge him for the ornamentation. A handful of study partners in the past—usually snobby academic types—had, usually with a claim that it was impractical and distracting. "That way we won't have to worry about charting them properly."
He pulled out a fresh parchment that they would use to make their new chart. He'd already begun positioning some of the stars in his mind. Christmas Eve was only a few days away from the winter solstice, meaning the positions wouldn't differ too much from that chart. It was all about the angles and distances at this point. He looked to Miss Dawson for advice.
"Do you think we should draft it first, or start by marking the distances for the final draft?" he asked.
He shyly opened his star chart up so it was fully visible on the floor beneath them. The angles and degrees were written out for easy referencing, and there were even illustrations depicting the constellations' namesakes that began to sparkle on the page as his hand crossed over the section of the parchment.
"We can use it as our reference," he said by way of explanation, hoping she would not judge him for the ornamentation. A handful of study partners in the past—usually snobby academic types—had, usually with a claim that it was impractical and distracting. "That way we won't have to worry about charting them properly."
He pulled out a fresh parchment that they would use to make their new chart. He'd already begun positioning some of the stars in his mind. Christmas Eve was only a few days away from the winter solstice, meaning the positions wouldn't differ too much from that chart. It was all about the angles and distances at this point. He looked to Miss Dawson for advice.
"Do you think we should draft it first, or start by marking the distances for the final draft?" he asked.
RE: Cassiopeia - Alice Dawson - November 13, 2020
"It's beautiful," Alice said in awe of his artwork, unaware for a split second that she had vocalized the thought. Her artistic talent was limited to swirling doodles in the corners of her journals, but to create something that sparkled was a beautiful thing all on its own. Still, to have commented on it unprompted caused her cheeks to flush in embarrassment. "Sorry," she offered in a quick attempt to hopefully smooth over any awkwardness. "Mine is just not as well designed." Alice spread hers out for his inspection to help her explanation, though she soon rolled it back up and slid it out of the way. There was no need to take up space with two identical charts.
Although he was clearly the superior intelligence here (or was she just still in awe over the work of art he produced) he had turned to her for advice. "Drafting will probably be a better start. We can always check them once we have the layout mostly thought out."
RE: Cassiopeia - Edmund Evermonde - November 13, 2020
She said it was beautiful in an awed sort of voice that brought a warmth to his cheeks. It wasn't the first time his artwork had been described as such, but he'd expected her to say something about the impracticality of it. His gaze snapped back to his textbook as she apologized, glad that she would not make him acknowledge the effort he'd put into it. It was always difficult to look at someone and basically say, "Yes I'm talented, and yes I spent a ridiculous amount of time perfecting it. Thanks for acknowledging it." It made him feel conceited and uncomfortable.
"No, let's use yours, too." He reached out to stop her from pushing it away but stopping a few inches short of her hand. "I like another perspective," he explained. In truth, he didn't want her to dismiss her own efforts because of his; it was a group project after all, and they needed to put their knowledge together to finish it.
"Besides," he added, pushing his own chart to the side to make room for both hers and their draft, "Yours is easier to look at. It will make the drafting process easier." He looked up at her expectantly. He hoped she wouldn't argue.
"No, let's use yours, too." He reached out to stop her from pushing it away but stopping a few inches short of her hand. "I like another perspective," he explained. In truth, he didn't want her to dismiss her own efforts because of his; it was a group project after all, and they needed to put their knowledge together to finish it.
"Besides," he added, pushing his own chart to the side to make room for both hers and their draft, "Yours is easier to look at. It will make the drafting process easier." He looked up at her expectantly. He hoped she wouldn't argue.
RE: Cassiopeia - Alice Dawson - November 13, 2020
Having had enough arguing this month to last a lifetime, Alice nodded her assent and allowed him to move his chart away. Hopefully they would need to reference it again so she could take in more of his drawings before the class ended. "If you're sure…" she said. The scribbled notes in the margins might be distracting, but at least they wouldn't grip her attention the way the shining constellations had.
The first few stars were always the most difficult to chart for her, for without the frame of reference the rest of it didn't make a lick of sense. "I don't think the North Star would move much in four days, do you?" She glanced down towards the textbook for that exact measurement.
RE: Cassiopeia - Edmund Evermonde - November 13, 2020
He was sure, and his insisting had gotten her attention off his chart so he had no reason to say otherwise. He was not the best at astronomy, but it became clear in a matter of seconds that he was better at it than her. He pulled out his quill and made a dot on their draft paper before lifting his head to pass her a sorry smile.
"Polaris doesn't actually move, remember," he said, "but once you remember that, everything becomes a little easier." From there he wrote down the equation that they'd been given last lesson: the one that describes start movement over the course of a year. "You want to do the math while I start drawing the lines?" he asked with an encouraging smile.
"Polaris doesn't actually move, remember," he said, "but once you remember that, everything becomes a little easier." From there he wrote down the equation that they'd been given last lesson: the one that describes start movement over the course of a year. "You want to do the math while I start drawing the lines?" he asked with an encouraging smile.
RE: Cassiopeia - Alice Dawson - November 13, 2020
So Mr. Evermonde knew just how mediocre Alice was at Astronomy, wonderful. Meanwhile he was confident enough in the subject to use his time creating beautiful star charts. Alice rarely felt inadequate when it came to her studies (it was difficult to when most of her friends turned to her for help) but she suddenly felt woefully unprepared for this class.
"Right," Alice noted with a hint of embarrassment. She flipped her notebook open to the last lesson's notes and copied the equation needed onto a fresh piece of parchment. Mathematics always came easily enough for her, so this shouldn't be too difficult. They worked in silence for a few minutes, something that surprised Alice as she usually felt some kind of need to chat while working with a new partner, until she showed him her work for inspection. "I think I have the next location."
RE: Cassiopeia - Edmund Evermonde - November 13, 2020
He allowed her to do the math without commenting on her error. What mattered was that the calculations were done right. He’d never been an amazing mathematician, which is why he revelled in having one of the smarter students as his partner. (He wouldn’t admit it, but the only reason his own chart was accurate was because he’d copied the initial points right out of the textbook. No knowledge necessary.)
“Good,” he said, trusting that she’d gotten the math right. Luckily for them, the rest would follow. He looked at the numbers and was able to plot the first point. He sketched lines at the proper angles, but they would still have to ensure the points were placed apart correctly. “Now that we know where one is, we can place the other points. Would you like to measure the distance? I can start with the first constellation.”
“Good,” he said, trusting that she’d gotten the math right. Luckily for them, the rest would follow. He looked at the numbers and was able to plot the first point. He sketched lines at the proper angles, but they would still have to ensure the points were placed apart correctly. “Now that we know where one is, we can place the other points. Would you like to measure the distance? I can start with the first constellation.”
RE: Cassiopeia - Alice Dawson - November 13, 2020
Despite feeling confident in her calculations, Alice was still nervous Mr. Evermonde had elected not to review them. If her math was off now they would end up having to redo the entirety of the chart, after all. She went over the numbers in her head, attempting to find any error she might've made, but found none.
"Sure," she agreed. Truthfully, Alice didn't wish to do any of the drawings for this project as he was clearly the superior artist. She struggled enough just drawing a straight line sometimes, nevermind an entire page of constellations. No, Mr. Evermonde could do all the drawing if he so desired.
Alice leant over the parchment and measured out the distance to the next page, her red braid hanging over her shoulder. She hadn't had time that morning to arrange her curls into anything resembling a neat hairstyle. "There," she commented once the next three star placements were measured out. "Those should be right."
RE: Cassiopeia - Edmund Evermonde - November 13, 2020
As she did the measurements, Edmund continued to mark the stars on the page. He glanced up at her every now and then to ensure that she didn't look too stressed or too uncertain—at least that's what he told himself. His eyes caught on the red braid that hung over her shoulder, the multi-toned red of her hair looking like a shiny knut against the black of her robes. He wondered how difficult it would be to mix that color... and how difficult it would be to copy from memory.
That was weird, he told himself, and promptly turned his attention back to their chart which needed more attention than any easel of his.
"It looks good to me. You're better at this than me; it usually takes me ten minutes to finish one calculation. Numbers are... something else," he admitted, pleased that they would likely finish their entire assignment before the rest of their class finished the math.
That was weird, he told himself, and promptly turned his attention back to their chart which needed more attention than any easel of his.
"It looks good to me. You're better at this than me; it usually takes me ten minutes to finish one calculation. Numbers are... something else," he admitted, pleased that they would likely finish their entire assignment before the rest of their class finished the math.
RE: Cassiopeia - Alice Dawson - November 13, 2020
Completely oblivious to his gaze, Alice worked on her measurements in relative peace. Not only was she thankful for Mr. Evermonde for willingly pairing with her tonight but she was also relieved he had guided them to the corner of the room. If he had suggested they stay near the main group she might've been forced to work near where Cameron had paired with one of their friends, a nightmarish reality that likely would've led to ber focus being torn.
Alice shrugged off the compliment. Everyone had different ways of thinking and were talented at their own hobbies. It was part of why she never thought ill of Cameron or Sloane for being terrible about their studies. Sure they frustrated her at times, but they had such strengths in other aspects that they more than made up for it. "They can be challenging," she admitted instead. "It's more about understanding the concepts than the actual numbers." She hoped he didn't think her as pretentious for the comment but was unable to shake the feeling. "I'm a terrible artist, I charm my quill to draw straight lines when I need them." She quickly added to offset any offense she might've caused.
RE: Cassiopeia - Edmund Evermonde - December 4, 2020
"Concepts or not, it's not for me," he admitted, a smile on his face as he shook his head. He'd long decided he would avoid any career path that focused too much on concrete data. He preferred creative freedom and flexibility—something numbers offered none of.
Once all the stars were properly measured and in place, Edmund sat back and stared at their work in silence. It was precise and pleasing to the eye, which was what important when making a proper star chart; still, it needed a little more. With a shy smile in her direction he began digging in his bag, the sound of wood clanking against the floor beneath them filling the otherwise quiet air. He pulled out a small container of watercolor paints, which he wouldn't admit he'd painstakingly charmed to ensure they wouldn't spill or lose their hue despite their constant sloshing around. He opened the containers and laid them out in front of him before he grabbed his wand.
"I had a very artistic tutor growing up," he explained, beginning to wave his wand over the paper. He muttered a quiet spell, and then quill markings slowly became embossed. "When I went to Hogwarts, he left me a small booklet filled with charms to help with my art. I have Professor Weber help me on occasion." He then took his paintbrush and began to carefully layer shades of blue, grey, and green in an attempt to simulate the appearance of the galaxies.
Once all the stars were properly measured and in place, Edmund sat back and stared at their work in silence. It was precise and pleasing to the eye, which was what important when making a proper star chart; still, it needed a little more. With a shy smile in her direction he began digging in his bag, the sound of wood clanking against the floor beneath them filling the otherwise quiet air. He pulled out a small container of watercolor paints, which he wouldn't admit he'd painstakingly charmed to ensure they wouldn't spill or lose their hue despite their constant sloshing around. He opened the containers and laid them out in front of him before he grabbed his wand.
"I had a very artistic tutor growing up," he explained, beginning to wave his wand over the paper. He muttered a quiet spell, and then quill markings slowly became embossed. "When I went to Hogwarts, he left me a small booklet filled with charms to help with my art. I have Professor Weber help me on occasion." He then took his paintbrush and began to carefully layer shades of blue, grey, and green in an attempt to simulate the appearance of the galaxies.
RE: Cassiopeia - Alice Dawson - December 5, 2020
Before this evening, the newly completed star chart would have been adequate in its colorless glory. In fact, Alice wouldn't have thought twice of it; she would have double checked her equations, ensured the coordinates matched appropriately, and handed in their work. Mr. Evermonde, however, had opened her eyes to the value of art, and Alice had begun to hope midway through their assignment that he might make it beautiful.
He didn't disappoint.
She watched the paintbrush ease the watercolors around the parchment with rapt attention as he explained his talent. A tutor, she never would have guessed that to be the source of his art. Creativity had always seemed to be an innate trait, one she couldn't possibly learn. Perhaps that wasn't the case, though, perhaps she simply hadn't tried hard enough in her first year of art lessons. (Alice highly doubted this to be the case as she dropped art from her courseload as soon as she was able to. Her talent laid in more organized forms of thought than the vast freedom that was creativity.)
"Fascinating," she replied as she continued to watch him work. "I never would've thought to emboss the markings, you can save yourself from smudges and the likes with such a simple charm."
RE: Cassiopeia - Edmund Evermonde - December 9, 2020
Pleased that she seem pleased, he shrugged and sat back to examine his work with critical eyes. "It's not my best," he said humbly, although he secretly was happy with the way the colors had come together in such a short amount of time. "But there's a lot that can be done with magic. I'm not sure how much of it is really me and how much is simply... magic." At least where his paintings were concerned. His sketches were another story, as he'd practiced years to capture the realism necessary to earn praise from his teachers, both at home and school.