May 11, 1889 - The Painted Lady

There were a multitude of reasons as to why the last place Cliff wanted to be in the middle of Hogsmeade Weekend was a tea shop. He’d much rather be at the Leaky Cauldron, or hell, even the Three Broomsticks. He was only here because of his sister’s insistent whining that she never got to see Heath anymore because he was always gone, although Cliff wasn’t sure why she thought he wouldn’t be. He was a Hogwarts student and had been for a few years, but then again, she’d always been living with grandma while he was away. Plus she’d been needier than ever the past few days. He’d tried to pawn his sister off on his brother and it wasn’t until Heath had attached himself to Cliff’s arm did he realize he’d been suckered into a day of family time.

Meena ordered Cliff to find an open seat while she and Heath ordered the tea and scones, and he had done so with drama, collapsing into the seat with a loud sigh. What money did he have to spend on his siblings? None. But it didn’t stop his sister from settling a steaming teacup in front of him and for Heath to appear with a few different pastries that Cliff wouldn’t partake in; his siblings deserved the treat.

Meena was beside him chattering his ear off, and when Cliff finally turned toward her to tell her to shut up, it was another girl a few booths over who caught his eyes. She was beautiful and his heart caught in his throat. His mouth must have dropped because Meena was reaching up to close it, while nudging him to go say hi. What a terrible child she was. It didn’t stop Cliff from collecting the teacup and heading over, unsure of what he was going to say. She looked upper class.

“I don’t suppose you’ve something I could spike this with, do you?” He asked rather stupidly, raising the teacup in the air.  In the center of the table was a pot of something.... hopefully a little stronger than tea.

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Poppy Dashwood

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

Poppy was impatiently waiting for Juniper to come back from her impromptu - and inconvenient - trip to the powder room. They had been in the middle of a very important conversation about Owen Beauregard and his spider-killing-skills when all of a sudden June had decided to wander away! Poppy chewed her lower lip anxiously. (Yes, it had been two whole months, and yet, he was still the talk of the town! Or at least... at the forefront of Poppy’s mind, rather.) Imagine… sneaking a Gryffindor into the Ravenclaw common room! Even Poppy hadn’t ever dared try such a thing on purpose, but now that she knew how simple it was… Perhaps she and June could scheme to do as much for Slytherin! Poppy had always wondered what a dungeon common room looked like…

Suddenly, there was a form appearing next to her and the brunette jumped a little, startled. A boy had appeared almost out of thin air while she’d been daydreaming! Blushing a touch and setting her tea cup aside, Poppy cleared her throat. “I-I don’t,” she replied rather stupidly. The boy looked a little dingy, like he could use a bath, but he had a sweet face (though it looked like it was often contorted into a frown by the look of those lines). He seemed to eye the pot of Japanese tea Ida had recently gotten her hooked on and Poppy felt the need to apologize bubble up.

“I can offer you some green tea, if you don’t like… whatever that seems to be?” She offered, gesturing politely towards the pot. Mama would be appalled that she was being so friendly with a dirty looking stranger, but Poppy pushed the feeling aside. He looked harmless enough.

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Clifford Hillicker

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© Fox

She was even prettier up close, and as a blush spread over her cheeks, Cliff tried to grin at her. He didn’t have a shot with someone as pretty as she was, not that he even wanted to have [s]another mouth to feed[/i] a wife, now or ever. He didn’t expect her to be so nice either, and he felt uncomfortable with her blue (the same color of the sky he loved to fly under) eyes looking at him. Part of him knew he should have just turned and walked away, letting her wonder what in the world had just happened, but instead the brunette lifted his head up as she offered him another type of tea.

“I -” Cliff, suddenly feeling stupid, tossed a look over his shoulder to Meena who merely bore a shit-eating grin on her face. It was one of the few common features he shared with his siblings, although he wondered if it had more to do with how they were raised rather than the shared blood that ran through their veins. He glared at her and she shrugged before she waved exaggeratedly at him for whatever reason - she was six. She shouldn’t be this awful already.

Turning back to the girl in front of him, he shook his head and frowned. “I didn’t even realize tea had more than one flavor.” True be told he’d much rather pour a little fire whiskey into his tea, because green tea sounded disgusting. “It’s uh, something my sister picked out.” Another pause. This was awkward. “And it is terrible. I wouldn't mind trying it...”

Behind him he heard Heath harshly telling Meena to knock it off. (She was making kissy faces her eldest brother couldn't see.)

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Poppy Dashwood

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

Poppy was surprised to see behind the boy a small family making a bit of a ruckus. She blushed again, hoping the whole group wouldn’t come over. She wasn’t mentally prepared to entertain a slew of strangers while her head was still half in a fantasy. Turning to the boy as he admitted to his tea knowledge - or rather, lack there of - she brought a hand delicately to her face and laughed. “It’s alright,” she assured him. “I too just learned of this particular tea. My friend introduced us to it last month.”

Gesturing vaguely at June’s empty chair, Poppy wondered if she should be offering the boy a seat. She figured Juniper would find a way to get rid of their impromptu guest if she didn’t like it though - a blessing, really - and so Poppy carefully pushed her own still warm cup of tea towards the boy. She didn’t have a spare cup handy, and not knowing what else to do, she supposed this would have to be enough.

“You can try mine,” she offered gently, knowing full-well Mama would be aghast. Sharing tea cups with strange, dirty looking boys was not lady like! The fifth year couldn’t be bothered to care though. She certainly figured it would be more improper to dump the remaining tea in his own cup into a plant! “My name is Poppy,” she offered gently then. “Poppy Dashwood.”

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Clifford Hillicker

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© Fox

Finally, finally Heath managed to shut Meena up by shoving a scone in her mouth. She protested, and when Cliff spun around to say something to her, she took a large bite out of the scone and slunk down in her chair. It wasn’t as if Meena Hillicker had any female role models she could look up to, and Cliff was in no rush to help that along. He could only hope mum would show back up soon and take her off his hands.

He mouthed at her to shut up and tossed Heath a look to entertain her, who shoved the scone back into her mouth, tossed his arm across the chair behind her and grinned at his brother. God, he hated them both so much. He frowned at them before he finally turned back to the girl, sitting at the edge of the chair that had been offered to him, his own teacup settled against the table. His fingers tapped nervously against his pant leg.

Surprise then, filtered across his face as she pushed the cup toward him; he eyed her wearily, wondering if it was poisoned somehow. He was always frightened of that - consuming something that would kill him. She easily could have put something into it with the amount of times he’d had his back turned. But Poppy Dashwood looked like a nice enough girl, and if she did actually poison him, her face wouldn’t be the worst last thing to see. His hands shook as he picked up the steaming teacup, and he peered down into the liquid to see if anything odd floated in it. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

It took another moment before he took the smallest sip of the tea. It was warm and the taste was quite pleasant. Not to be greedy (and not that he expected Ms. Dashwood to drink after him), he settled the tea back against the table and pushed it back toward her. “Your friend has much better taste than Meena.” He nodded, trying to offer a small smile.

“I’m Clifford Hillicker.” Cliff nodded, offering his full name because he felt it was what the upper class expected. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Dashwood.”

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Poppy Dashwood

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   Poppy Dashwood

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

Poppy tried to politely ignore the antics going on behind the boy, but a small smile slipped across her lips anyway. Whoever the young girl and boy were, they were obviously fond of this one here and she couldn’t help but be amused. Perhaps they were siblings? They both seemed a touch younger than him, from first glance. And just as dirty.

The boy sat then, nervous obviously, and again Poppy smiled, this time encouragingly at him. She watched as he took the tiniest sip possible out of her cup before pushing it back over and a small tinkly, little laugh escaped her vocals. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she replied, gently. “You can have more, if you like.” She was quite finished anyhow. Mama would absolutely have a fit if she dared take another sip, and even if Mrs. Dashwood had no way of knowing, Poppy didn’t want to spoil the moment by being grubby.

The boy introduced himself then and Poppy nodded in acknowledgment. Clifford Hillicker. It was a funny name, and it made her smile to hear it. She couldn’t help but bow her head a little shyly then as he said her own. ‘Ms. Dashwood.’ It sounded so lovely in his unusual accent. “The pleasure is mine,” she replied, cheeks twinging a soft pink.

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Clifford Hillicker

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© Fox

It wasn’t often people smiled at him. Cliff was used to the dirty looks and the sneers that came with being working class, even more so when they realized he bore the Hillicker name. Sure he’d had a reputation for stealing things, and he did a lot, but at twenty he felt like he had to do it to survive. Poppy Dashwood smiling at him was both one of the most beautiful and terrifying things he’d ever seen; he wanted her to open her mouth and insult him because he was expecting it. But instead she talked quietly and offered him more.

Cliff swallowed. Hard. “I uh. Thanks.” More idiotic words but at least this time he’d remembered his manners. He dragged the teacup over to sit in front of him, where he blinked down. Maybe it was poisoned. Maybe instead of tearing him down with words she’d take him out with poisoned teacup. He shrugged then. Fear or not, he was never one to turn down things that were free to him. So this time when he picked up the teacup, he took a longer sip. 

Then Poppy Dashwood was blushing and he blinked at her. What in the world? “So uh, you’re a student?” He carefully said to change the conversation.

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Poppy Dashwood

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

Pleased he’d accepted the tea without much fuss, Poppy nodded at Mr. Hillicker’s change of topic. “Yes,” she replied delicately. “I’m a fifth year, Ravenclaw.” And proud of it too. Poppy knew Ravenclaw house was hers unlike any of the others; sure she might have fit in partially as a Slytherin or a Gryffindor, but nether of those houses felt hers not the way Ravenclaw did. She aspired to be every way the sharp wit Rowena herself embodied, and she lived as much with her nose in a book as she did causing trouble.

“What about you?” she asked curiously, in turn. Obviously Mr. Hillicker was no student, but she was curious to know who he was and what he… spent his time doing. Other than accosting young ladies at tea. For a moment the prickle of wonder if she ought to be concerned about his presence tickled at her. Poppy hadn’t thought before now that he and those children could be some kind of… of distraction. Maybe they were trying to steal her purse or something. (There wasn’t much in it she supposed, but still. There was the principle of the matter.) If that were the case though, she figured they’d already had ample opportunity and thus she relaxed a bit in her seat.

“Do you often go about interrupting ladies to try new teas, Mr. Hillicker?” She teased him gently then. If they were going to keep conversing, he might as well get a razz or two. She had given him her tea, after all.

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Clifford Hillicker

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© Fox

He smiled when she confirmed what he already knew. A Ravenclaw. Out of all the houses, that was the one he knew he wouldn’t ever fit in with; he wasn’t very smart, not in the ways it counted at Hogwarts at least. He’d been proud to be a Gryffindor, and while it didn’t matter much now, he still held a small inkling of pride. He could only hope his sister would follow in his and Heathcliff’s footsteps. She asked him then, what he did and he was conflicted.

Cliff was proud of what he did - it was a lot of work for sure, and people scoffed at him because it was manual labor. It wasn’t a fancy ministry title that was always attached to the upper class, but without people like him they wouldn’t have the opportunity to work there. “I own a tree nursery. We grow magical wood for wands and brooms.” Even if Ms. Dashwood scoffed, as he narrowed his eyes to watch her more carefully to see if she’d do, he wouldn’t sink into the seat. “During the holidays we grow special pine trees.” As if someone like her would ever cut down her own tree.

Then she teased him, and Cliff just smirked at her. “Only the ones that I think are pretty.” He answered her as he wrapped his fingers around the teacup. If she was going to be brash, he might as well tell her the truth.

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Poppy Dashwood

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

To say she was surprised at Mr. Hillicker’s occupation would be a stretch, but Poppy had certainly never met anyone from the working class before. Not like this at least. So… intimately. (She nearly blushed at the thought.) But the idea that he worked with magical woods meant for wands was intriguing. She leaned forward a touch in her seat.

“Is caring for them so very different than non-magical trees?” She queried, curiously. Poppy had never really thought it much; a tree had always just been… a tree to her. Each alike another, none more magical or animated than the next. Of course there where some animated trees, the girl supposed. She knew of Womping Willows and the like - they’d studied them in Herbology this year - but could care be so dramatically varied from species to species? If Poppy was honest, other than knowing about plants and herbs as potion ingredients, she’d never been particularly interested in how they came to become said ingredients. Perhaps Mr. Hillicker would be the one to change that.

At his rebuttal to her tease, Poppy blushed fiercly, retreating into her seat. He’d called her pretty, so openly! So brazenly! (And so cleverly in that smart little accent of his.) The brunette certainly hadn’t expected that. She figured she ought to retort with something equally clever, but nothing came to mind. Instead she simply smiled, grateful for the compliment.

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Clifford Hillicker

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© Fox

When Juniper emerged from the powder room, the last thing she expected was to have some dirty-looking kid sitting in her spot, with Poppy’s teacup in front of him. He was smirking at her. How dare he just randomly approach a girl and sit down at the table to converse with her! While he certainly didn’t look upper class, June could only hope that his parents taught him some kind of manners; he picked up the cup and drank from it, and she scoffed as she took a few steps over to them. She had to have only been gone for a few minutes.

He opened his mouth to say something to Poppy, but Juniper quickly interrupted him. “You’re in my seat.” The Slytherin crossed her arms as she moved to stand beside him, narrowing her eyes as he turned toward her. Any normal person would apologize and stand up to give up the seat that had been clearly stolen, but instead he frowned at her. She matched it. “I didn’t stutter. You are in my seat.” They both narrowed their eyes at each other, sizing each other up, before Cliff sighed and stood up. He mumbled a goodbye to Poppy, and then moved to sit back down at the table behind them, knocking the blonde's shoulder in the process.

She should've tripped him, but instead she sat down in the seat and pushed the gross teacup away from her with a finger.

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Poppy Dashwood

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“It was nice meeting you Miss Dashwood. I’ll see you around sometime.”

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

Poppy was not surprised in the least when Juniper appeared and things turned the slightest bit hostile. She watched half in amusement, and half with chagrin as the blonde faced off with Mr. Hillicker. In the end, as was expected, the dirty-looking boy was resigned to taking his leave and Poppy covered a small laugh behind her hand with a cough. She gave June a pointed look before turning to the boy.

“The pleasure is mine,” she replied genuinely. When he’d toddled off, she dropped her hand and laughed again, quietly, to June. “Well that was the most bizarre encounter I’ve ever had!” She admitted. "But he was nice.”

It was too bad she’d never find an answer to her question; perhaps she could ask Professor Mason next time they had class.

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Clifford Hillicker

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© Fox