Wednesday, July the 30th, 1895 - Exam Results Picnic

Millie had to marvel at the singularly incredible accomplishment she had somehow managed by herself. Five years at Hogwarts, hundreds of hours in the library, thousands of brushes with her silver necklace, and countless waking nights thinking of what might happen if she failed, it was finally here. The moment she had been working so hard for, holding the envelope that contained the fate of her future in her hands, and the young witch was just grateful she had carried it here, along with herself, with a reserved sense of calm.

That, alone, should have been enough of an accomplishment for today.

Part of her had noticed the oddity about the whole circumstance. Her head was unusually quiet, and her hands steady. The young witch heard no pounding of her heart in her ears, no flash of a lifetime's memory through her eyes. Such a moment felt very rare to her, even before the rush of her fifth year, and it was one that she would have treasured on another day. Perhaps tomorrow she would, or later, just as Millie had reassured to her friends when they asked after her deathly silence, her pale skin, her uncanny presence in the moment today.

"I'll be alright, after I open the letter."

Millie said the words, not quiet knowing if they were honest. She didn't quiet know herself how she might react, to news of any sort. Should someone arrive with news of a death in her family, or a werewolf were to appear, Millie thought she might accept it with the same steely calm that carried her into the park today, to sit with others in her year, and to hold that fateful envelope without tearing it apart at the earliest chance. The young witch would be doubly grateful if she could handle news from Hogwarts in just the same manner.

Who was this girl, she wondered softly to herself, all graceful and reposed? Had she become a woman already, so stern and tenacious? Millie's calm nearly lapsed for a moment, with nimble fingers at the ready to touch her necklace. All she needed to do was stretch them upwards and practiced instinct would do the rest. Instead, she turned the envelope over in her hands, staring again at the fine lettering and lack of smears, proof that someone had taken the time to write out her name without haste or carelessness. It was a respect the young witch intended to return when she opened it up herself.

As she nibbled at small morsels arranged on napkin in front of her, Millie bided her time through talk and camaraderie. Being surrounded by her classmates, some friends and others not as much, did garner the familiar ring of comfort. It was enough, when at least it was her turn to open the envelope, for Millie to have a veneer of confidence as her thumb swiped under the lip to break the seal and she pulled the folded parchment out to read...

The results of her OWL examinations.

"Merlin's Beard..." Millie finally said, after a few minutes of silence. There had been hours of silence, quiet repose, in the months since term ended. Not even a fierce outburst had properly reignited the young witch's tempest until the moment she read the last of her results, and let the letter drop from her fingers.

She didn't faint, as much as she might have wanted to. To wake up sometime later, rested and refreshed, that might have been easier. Millie didn't cry either, as much as she might have wanted to. The river of emotions was still dammed up in her heart, and if she looked hard enough, there might be just a trickle beginning now.

All that happened next was the letter floating to the ground, clear of the napkin of food or any of their beverages arranged out for the picnic, while the young witch sank into her own hands. She managed one verbal comment on the whole ordeal, muttered in a way that offered her far more relief than it probably did for the friends around her. "I can't believe it's finally over."

If any were confused as to her meaning, they need only pick up the letter and read for themselves.

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OOC: Open to any of Millie's classmates and friends, esp. Anne Moony Greta Gillenwater Benedict Hunter Cadogan Glynn

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Antelope had done well on her exams as she had been told to expect and was pleased with the letter she had received, even if she was just a smidge irked by that one dropped grade that sat on the sheet mocking her. It was no worry, she would progress to her NEWTs and today was the day to celebrate. She had been chatting to another Hufflepuff about her results, the poor boy had failed several and would unfortunately not be continuing with them. She had tried to cheer him up, even given him a hug, that seemed to work and the boy seemed to have settled into a state of happy enough resignation. Apparently his father had a spot for him to slot into at the family business which would cover him and help him find a wife when the time came. He had joked about what a lovely wife Antelope would make but the girl had put it down to him reaching out for a friendly face.

After he found some more boys to socialise with, Antelope decided to look for some of the other fifth year girls, almost stumbling upon a very relieved looking Millie Potts.

She allowed her legs to give way and she plopped into a seated position at the edge of the blanket with Millie and a couple of the others. "You look very relieved Miss Potts. May I?" she picked up the other girl's letter and began reading it in her head. As she did her smile started and began to broaden as she noted that all of the results were good. She took special interest in the girl's herbology results considering the help she had privately given her. "Well done! Is it what you had hoped for?" she asked warmly before handing back the letter and glancing around.

"I saw Miss Decroix arriving, she's back from Switzerland, do you suppose that means shes finished" Antelope gave a little laugh at her deliberate inflection. It was a tease, but anyone who knew the witch knew that it was meant playfully and there was not a malicious bone in her body. She looked around at the others who had picked this blanket for their spot. She wasn't one to show off her own results as she knew she was one of the more academic students in her year, but she really wanted to compare them to Anne Moony as the Slytherin had a habit of drawing out her more competitive nature.

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Millie Potts

  

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Her name is pronounced similarly to Penelope

Greta had tried her best all holidays to not think about her OWL results, even as she attended The Society for the Transfiguration Arts where inevitably conversations between her fellow attendees Cadogan Glynn and Bonnie Greyback along with more senior members turned to discussions about the next few years and her future. She had tried as hard as she could not to focus on the upcoming results and what they'd mean both for her as well as what they'd mean for her friendship group because whilst she was both lucky and safe due to her family's attitudes to schooling - Millie's father had already given her her ultimatum regarding her future at Hogwarts and Anne required scholarships to even continue attending.

Of course, her marks mattered too because Greta didn't see herself simply settling down to have a quiet life - she wanted to make something of life and to do that she needed to have good grades. She had toyed with numerous ideas, especially as she spoke to the other society members (it had been a shock for her to see Iphigenia Adebayo there - she still remembered her one attempt at duelling that had been with Iphigenia and the spell that taken all her senses away from her. It had been a African spell, cast in a very unfamiliar manner and it had been that spell that had made her realise there was also more to magic than the spells taught at Hogwarts and had been the main reason she'd taken Ancient Studies. ) and even now as summer was beginning to come to a close she still wasn't sure what she wanted to do with her life after Hogwarts. She just needed to get the best grades as possible and keep her windows opportunities open: if she failed at this very moment she could hear the doors literally closing and locking in front of her.

After arriving at the picnic it was clear that Millie had looked worse than she felt and she'd asked her friend if she was okay and only gotten the response that she'd okay once she opened the letter. She did of course - only to sink to the ground and Greta reached to grab at her. The relief she could practically feel from the girl - or was it her own relief - probably Greta's relief at not having to do without her friend - the friend that was admittedly the glue of her friendship circle .

"Oh Millie! I'm so happy for you." She cried as she hugged her friend. Her ears pounded and she knew Anne was next. She couldn't imagine two years without Anne and whilst she knew Anne was brilliant - she liked to think they had a competitive rivalry that pushed the other to do better - she knew better than to bank on that because nothing in life was a surety. Her own letter still sat in her bag, almost forgotten.

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"I suppose it is," Millie nodded, unsure of herself even as the words came forth. Miss Grace nearly broke into applause, and if that hadn't been quite enough, she felt herself wrapped up in the arms of Greta's approval. The young witch felt herself go limp in her friend's embrace, feeling a flood of emotions —to cry from anguish, to shout and dance, to rage and tear apart her letter, to laugh with joyful happiness— pass her by, out of reach somehow.

Hadn't this been everything that she'd wanted all along? The threat, an ultimatum really, had imperiled her time had Hogwarts for so long that the young witch could scarcely dream of having passed through its teeth unscathed. No finishing school awaited her in September, only a reunion with classes and the familiar bed in Ravenclaw Tower. She should be rejoicing, singing her news far and wide, and yet...nothing.

Millie felt nothing.

Oh, she recognized what she should feel. Some part of her body stirred, enough to recall that she had bones and form that could return the hug to Greta. Enough to recall that she should sit politely, kindly watching the maelstrom of her own emotions stewing somewhere far beyond her, unable to set sail toward it. For whatever it might unleash, those were her feelings, her maelstrom, and they belonged to her as much as the marks inked on the letter in her hands.

In the hands of Miss Grace, in fact. Millie took her letter back as soon as possible, something not easy when contending with Greta's motherly arms. She ought to say something about that, to reassure one of her best friends that there was nothing more to fear and all was well, if only the young witch could manage to glimpse that truth about herself first. The marks on the page stared back at her as she glanced down, hoping that their truth might spark another, though without much success.

"Oh, but enough of me," Millie told them, waving the others back. That was what she was supposed to do, the humility of being able to move past her own —joy? grief? anger? satisfaction?— to let the focus shift to another. It was much easier to think of that kind of need than any of her own needs, first. "How did you do?"

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Antelope beamed as everyone chatted, and she grinned even further when Miss Potts enquired to her own results. It wasn't that she was boastful, not at all really, but she was proud of herself, she had worked hard and felt that her grades showed that. She also got so much from being included socially, having seen the tight knit group of Potts, Moony and GIlenwater and wanted in.

"I've got them here," she retrieved her own letter from her breast pocket and held it out in case anyone did want to look. "Mostly O's with a couple of E's. I think the creatures just dont like me very much." she playfully wrinkled her nose pulling her jowls up into a feline looking snarl that might worry the prey creatures but would just hopefully amuse her friends. She giggled.

"Anyone have any plans for the summer? I plan on helping out Valenduris and then hopefully getting a little reading done in private at the Wellingtonshire property. Perhaps I will have a party." she would not, she was being trusted, no silly business would be allowed if she wished to have routine private access to Hogsmeade.

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Millie Potts Greta Gillenwater Anne Moony

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Her name is pronounced similarly to Penelope

Greta hadn't quite decided what to make of the newer addition to her now growing group of friends. A fellow Prefect and classmate in Care of Magical Creatures she had of course been glad of the girls' input when it came to the girls special interest, Herbology, however the casual shapeshifting especially so close to her was certainly something that she found she had to steel her self not to physically jump at. Antelope's presence in class over the past few years had desensitised her from the overt stares that had originally been accompanied by her actions but as the talent of metamorphagus was far less common than other forms of wizardry like wandwork she still found herself startling whenever the girl looked anything but a girl. The girls results at school of course were nothing to laugh and she hoped that she'd be a positive influence on the group and she was liking the academic direction it seemed to be going in. She liked that idea of her future - meeting up as adults and being academic ladies discussing things beyond ordinary life. What exactly they'd discuss? Well, she hadn't quite figured that part of the future out yet. Just like she hadn't worked out her own future plans.

"I'm attending The Society for the Transfiguration Arts." She said replying to Antelope's question about summer plans. "Its defineately been interesting and informative and of course we're attending Maddy's Quidditch games. Oak's also been after me to practice as well since he wants to win the Quidditch Cup again this year and has been inspired... other than that it's pretty much the same as every other year. Except it wasn't because she'd spent the summer waiting for her OWL results. Her eyes glanced back to Millie and Millie's letter and remembered the forgotten letter in her bag.

"Ah-" She said letting go of Millie and awkwardly went to search for the letter and located it. "I haven't opened it yet." She said and bit the inside of her cheek.

"Do you want to open it for me?" She asked shyly holding it out to Millie as she realised at any point her hands might start shaking as her nerves and the build-up to this moment finally began to catch up to her.

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Anne was still recovering from her conversation with her mother yesterday. It had been years in the making, the day Anne inevitably declared she was working on becoming an auror. It went about as well as she expected. The conversation had almost overshadowed her OWL results, even though Anne was immensely proud of her work. Even though she had dreaded the conversation, Anne felt noticeably lighter. The worst had happened, she told mum the truth, and nobody died in the process. It was about as much as she could hope for.

Anne was out the door quickly and quietly, the hike from Pennysworth to Padmore a familiar, comforting exercise. Anne approached the park faster than she intended; the anticipated comfort that came with surrounding herself in her friend circle had driven her pace. A knot she hadn't recognized in her chest loosened slightly when she spotted the girls. Needing people might be foolish, but the feeling Anne got at the thought of her inner circle was smoothing the edges of her nerves. She wasn't even sure why she was nervous, until she remembered she wasn't the only one showing off results today. Letters written by stuffy old men stood between the girls and their future. Anne hated that; hated that her friends might not continue at school. Oh, Merlin, here came the anxiety.

Doing her best not to let her concern darken her face, Anne did not run moved quickly to join Millie, Greta, and Grace, as she preferred to call the Hufflepuff. Without preamble, Anne crossed her legs and dropped down between Millie and Grace. "Alright, everybody? We're not breaking up the gang, are we?" Anne almost tried to make it a joke, but her eyebrows had drawn together into a single line of worry. "Come on and say something, one of you." Anne pressed the trio like they'd left her waiting for hours already.

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Greta Gillenwater Antelope Grace Millie Potts

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MJ about made me cry with this one!
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The young witch could sit quietly, folding and unfolding the letter in her hands, as she listened to the others divulge their grades. That was easy enough for her to accomplish, allowing for the pleasant letter and, as she wished despite the numbness of her heart, pleasant news from her friends to filter in. Was it only a year ago that their similar ceremony had led to so much joy and consternation, where was any of that here now inside of her?

It was no surprise that Miss Grace might rattle off her grades first, and from what Millie glimpsed from the letter and her own admission, the Hufflepuff had done extraordinarily well. She could smile pleasantly enough at that, wondering all the while whether there was anything real behind it. The young witch had a natural inclination to see her classmates doing well, of course, and her fellow witch might be the reason she could sit here with her letter intact and unmarred by tears or anger. Yes, she told her disbelieving self, she was happy for Antelope.

Millie could be happy for all of her friends, no matter what their results looked like.

"Only if you wouldn't mind me doing so," she said to the friend spending her summer in Transfiguration Arts. As Millie reached for the letter in Greta's hand, she could almost guess at what they could be. The Gryffindor girl worked hard to keep everyone else at her pace, there wasn't a single doubt in Millie's head that she hadn't done well. She unfurled the letter to little surprise that Greta had done better than Millie herself. "They're remarkable, Greta. You even got an O in Ancient Studies, not even I managed that."

Smiling at the latecomer to their group, the young witch found she could only shake her head. She traded her letter to Anne so her most anxious friend could feel better about the day. There would be no one left behind this year, Millie felt that was true. If she could ever make herself feel properly again.

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