New Connections [Julian]

[MAEVE THORNE]

September 2, 2024 (Monday)

The first day of classes was finally over. Having signed up for eighteen different subjects - all available ones except for Muggle Studies, in fact - Maeve had a completely filled schedule. That, and her Quidditch captain duties combined with the Dueling club leadership, meant she had very little spare time. However, when the Slytherin Head of House called her over after the Charms class and told her there was a new transfer student who might use some guidance, she couldn't refuse. Not only because saying 'no' to Channing was pretty much impossible; the boy's surname turned out to be Mulciber, which rang some bells. It was British, even though he was transferring from Beauxbatons. And she was certain that Father had mentioned the name when telling her about the days of the Dark Lord.

She located the boy in the common room. It wasn't that difficult to identify him as the transfer - all she had to do was look for a new face that did not belong to a first-year. Donning a pleasant smile, the redhead approached her charge.

"Hello, Julian. My name is Maeve Thorne." The next part had required some thought. She could simply act friendly and make it look as though this warm welcome was all her idea. But then, if he was at all suspicious, he might just think she was trying to trick him somehow - Slytherin had that reputation, after all. Therefore, she opted for honesty. "Our Head of House assigned me to assist you, since you're new at Hogwarts." And a pureblood. With a famous name. Initially, Maeve had also wondered why she was chosen to act as a guide. Nearly every Slytherin Prefect was a respectable pureblood, capable of helping a promising new student navigate the complexities of the physical and social maze of Hogwarts. It must simply be that fifth-years would be busy with OWL preparations and seventh-years would be preoccupied with NEWTs, so a sixth-year should, in theory, have the most time for new responsibilities. It was not exactly a correct assumption in Maeve's case, but she did not mind it. Her curiosity was piqued.

"How are you finding it here so far? The classes, your housemates... your dormmates?" The last bit was added as she remembered that McEvoy, a Muggleborn and the worst Keeper the Slytherin Quidditch team had ever had, was also a third-year.

JULIAN MULCIBER

[JULIAN MULCIBER]

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

Julian leaned against the mantle of the common room fireplace in the cavernous room, eyes watching the flames, deep in thought. It had been his first day at Hogwarts, and it had been an absolute blur. He had felt shepherded from place to place, with not a pause for breath or rest. It was not as though transferring schools itself was such a stress - he has accepted the inevitable the day his father announced that they would be returning to the Mulciber ancestral home after his mothers passing - it was more the fact that his mind seemed so disconnected from everything and everyone. He hadn't had the proper time to grieve, or to process, and now he had been thrown into a new environment with a startling lack of familial support or even a friendly face. 

I am not there. I do not sleep.

Julian sighed to himself, closing his eyes against the heat of the flames momentarily. The common room was quite full of students rekindling their friendships after the holidays, so it was abuzz with activity. Julian, however, remained quite separated both physically and mentally. Thankfully most had given him a wide berth for the moment - a strange, unfamiliar face was being met with curious glances, but also caution. The younger students seemed far too new and shy to approach him, while the older had already formed cliques and therefore kept their distance. It was all fine with him. 

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

He couldn't believe she was gone. Julian reopened his eyes suddenly, blinking away the thought. It would not do to linger on his grief - not here, not now. His chest felt constricted, and his heart wouldn't stop pounding. Breathe. Julian inhaled softly, crossing his arms protectively. He shouldn't be here, surrounded by people. By all accounts he should have been be back home, in France, picking up the pieces of his shattered life. But his father had refused that from him - they had moved the same day his mother had passed, leaving everything of her memory behind. Julian didn't even have a picture of her. The thought angered him suddenly, and his heart felt rage. 

I am not there. I did not die.

He felt eyes on him. Julian tensed. 

"Hello Julian. My name is Maeve Thorne."

Her voice cut through the white noise of the common room, and it fractured his peace. All the conversations around him came crashing to the forefront of his mind and attention. Julian's forehead creased in discontent as he turned towards the smiling redhead as she formally explained her presence. His heart slowed in its excessive pounding, and he glanced over her shoulder to ensure no-one else had taken the opportunity to approach him now that she had shot through his state of seclusion. When he saw no other movement, aside from a few curious glances their way, his eyes returned to her and he scrutinized her briefly, Thorne. He recognised the name, albeit in the recesses of his mind - there was something niggling there - perhaps a mention when he was younger. If the name had been mentioned in disgust or in revelry, however, Julian could not recall. He had heard a slight tinge in her voice, something European - Swedish? Finnish? Julian calculated. 
"If that's all," he responded uncertainly, "I can tell your Head of House you did a spectacular job showing me about." She probably felt inclined to assist him and Julian didn't want hand-outs or pity. 

"How are you finding it here so far? The classes, your housemates... your dormmates?"

He thought on the question a moment, turning his body toward her fully. He stood taller than her, despite her appearing older, and she had eyes that seemed far deeper than she was letting on. Interesting. "All four classes forced me into uncomfortable introductions," he informed her truthfully, thinking back on his lessons. "My housemates --" he paused with a slight smirk, gesturing to the wide arc that everyone else had provided him while cocking an eyebrow, "--are very welcoming. As for my dormmates..." His mind flashed back to their speedy interaction prior to their morning classes, "... they could prove useful." He hadn't had the time nor energy to make any solid judgements on his dormmates - as they hadn't so much as conversed before separating to their first lesson of the day. Julian had much melted into the background at that point, and removed himself from social interactions to be alone with his own thoughts. 


MAEVE THORNE

Excerpt from a poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye

[MAEVE THORNE]

It sounded almost as though Julian was telling her he needed no assistance. Maeve was not so easily dismissed, however, especially by someone younger than herself. "I remember the tour I was given when I transferred from Durmstrang," she responded, casually slipping in a detail that might set the boy at ease somewhat - she had been in the same situation he was currently in, she understood how it felt. "All the key locations were shown; with adequate spatial memory, that is just sufficient to find one's way around..." Physically, at least. The social complexities of the local student body would not have been mentioned. Had he even been told that the school accepted half-breeds, or was this a point the Headmistress no longer bothered to mention?

As the boy proceeded to talk about today's classes, a mildly sympathetic expression formed on the redhead's face. Oh, yes, the superficial introductions some professors required upon seeing a new face. Even though she had no trouble with public speaking, standing up in front of her peers and trying to talk about herself succinctly yet captivatingly had been uncomfortable. "I suspect some of the Professors wanted to kill a few minutes of the class, making you fill the time. It cannot be that sensible adults believe they are helping break the ice by forcing such introductions." Or perhaps they did, which was even worse than them being lazy to the point of malice towards a newcomer.

She exhaled, not quite forcefully enough to make it a sigh. Julian's ironic comment on the welcoming nature of their housemates brought them to one of the conversation points she had planned to reach. It was a major one, even if the boy didn't seem to mind the lack of interactions with other Slytherins. "This is not the most amiable of houses, I must admit. A lot of us here come from prominent families, politics has been part of our lives since before we started our schooling. Approaching someone new is, well, a risk. You have not been assessed yet, nobody knows what to expect of you. Perhaps crossing you would cause trouble in the future, if your family is influential. Alternatively, perhaps you are a blood traitor and associating with you will harm others' reputation. Everyone seems to be waiting to see who you befriend." She had no doubt that people were watching them even now, waiting to see how the new boy's chat with a moderately popular pureblood girl would go. Maeve kept her voice low enough so the conversation wouldn't be overheard, but body language was not easily masked. "Some have probably sent letters to their parents, asking what they know of Mulciber. Eventually, others will approach you - once they think they have the measure of you." Maeve had not waited for that to happen, back when she transferred. She was the one approaching others, catching them off guard before they could figure out how best to deal with her. That required an outgoing nature and a willingness - if not desire - to socialize, however. It didn't seem like Julian was inclined to dive into forming new connections nearly as aggressively as she had.

He did have a Slytherin mindset, though, she could tell it by the way he spoke of his dormmates. They could prove useful. "They certainly could. Some of them, at least. Impossible though it should be, there are a few Muggleborns in our house." She blamed the Sorting Scarf for such mishaps. There had been a handful of Muggleborns sorted into Slytherin over hundreds of years, the Hat allowed it in exceptional cases. But now? Two in the Quidditch team alone, it was a disgrace. Hopefully, the mud flood would be dammed now that the Sorting Hat was returned. "One of them is your dormmate," she added, intrigued to see his reaction to this revelation.

JULIAN MULCIBER

[JULIAN MULCIBER]

Julian was not so trustful of strangers - and less so of authority - and this girl emanated both. Although a Prefect showing a new transfer about the school could have easily been protocol for Hogwarts, Julian was sure they did not always enjoy such a task, and a forced interaction was the last thing he wanted. 

"I remember the tour I was given when I transferred from Durmstrang," Maeve had continued on despite him providing an opportunity for her to neglect her ordered duties. His forehead knitted ever so slightly at the mention of her having been a transfer too, and he found himself listening to her explanation of what her own tour had contained. Durmstrang was famous for being prejudiced against Mudbloods, and sympathetic towards the teaching of the Dark Arts. The school, Julian recalled, had been a serious option for his parents when deciding where exactly Julian would attend. Beauxbaton, in the end, had won the argument - not only for being closer to home - but because it was a much less obvious choice for a Mulciber. For a family that sought to practice dark magic and continue to espouse the old ways of the Dark Lord, Beauxbaton was a logical undercover school for a boy to learn magic and not appear to hold any obvious loyalties. Of course that was all very much forgone after his mothers passing. 

Julian continued to observe Maeve, "My parents wanted me to attend Durmstrang - its a good school," he responded with an a nod, relaxing his tense posture imperceptibly and wondering if her family, too, chose the school for similar benefits. "Why the transfer?" He then questioned curiously, trying to get a read on her background. She had mentioned key locations of the school, and although Julian did not much care for a tour, he had a feeling she was not going to leave him alone until she had fulfilled her duties. Besides, the common room was far too loud for his liking, and the excitement of other students was growing tiresome. Julian sighed, relenting: "I'd do anything not to have to ask another portrait for directions."

"...It cannot be that sensible adults believe they are helping break the ice by forcing such introductions." Julian smirked at her words, "was that a Prefect questioning the sensibilities of her Professors?" Perhaps he had been quick to judge her status as an authority figure within the school as being so uptight. 

Julian then listened as she explained the Slytherin house to him. It wasn't as though he had absolutely no clue about the schools Houses - Julian had been introduced to them briefly by the Headmistress prior to his private sorting, and he knew that previous Mulciber family members had been sorted into Slytherin. Apparently it had been a point of pride to be put into this specific House - and he was beginning to understand why. "A lot of us here come from prominent families..." Julian had known her family name, so her explanation rung true to him: if only he could recall exactly where the Thorne family slotted into history. "...Everyone seems to be waiting to see who you befriend." She had paused for a brief moment, giving time for the the information provided to sink in. Julian's attention had sharpened, "so this is Slytherin pride?" He queried, matching her lowered voice while cocking an eyebrow. His eyes left her to scan the common room and its students again - many of whom quickly shied away from his gaze, "having students slither around to wait and see what I do, rather than find out for themselves?" The Headmistress had spoken of the House as a place where ambition and cunning were prized, not fear of the unknown. 

"Some have probably sent letters to their parents, asking what they know of Mulciber."

His eyes snapped back to Maeve as the remark caught Julian off guard, and he suddenly wondered what kind of person she was: was she brave, or was she a coward? Had she, too, fleeted off to her parents to attempt to dig up information on his family? Although approaching him could have been understood as brave - she hadn't done so of her own volition: it had been orders - and he simply didn't know enough about her to make the judgement so soon.

Regardless, the idea of students running off to their parents to research his background was both amusing and threatening. Julian had been raised with pride for his families name - but was aware that his grandparents had moved to France to escape scrutiny. It was a cowards move, in his opinion, that gave off the impression of guilt and fear of retaliation. Despite this, he hoped that those students who might have sent letters received a response detailing the Mulciber history. He, too, hoped those weak-willed or blood-traitor parents warned their precious children against befriending him, leaving only those with similar histories or loyalties to make themselves known. Julian frowned as she finished, speaking as though from personal experience, "and you, Thorne, did they have the measure of you?" 

As he had said that his dormmates could be useful, Maeve explained that there were Muggleborns in his new House. Julian's eyes flashed at the mention, and he forcibly bit down on his tongue. It would not do to anger so quickly here, or to lose his temper, however the thought of dirty blooded individuals being so close to him was sickening. "...One of them is your dormmate," Maeve finished, and suddenly Julian tasted blood in his mouth, metallic and hot. He clenched his jaw, breathing out through his nose in an attempt to stem his oncoming enmity. He was to live alongside a Mudblood? "Which one is it?" He managed with difficulty after swallowing the blood, attempting to tread carefully.  


MAEVE THORNE  

[MAEVE THORNE]

"A better school than Hogwarts, in some ways," she agreed, treading carefully now. While Mulcibers were known to support the Dark Lord two generations ago, their ideals might have changed for self-preservation purposes. "It is much more selective about the type of students that get accepted, for one." No Muggleborns, no half-breeds; it felt safe there, and she hadn't needed to carefully pick her every word in fear of saying something that would mark her family as blood purists. Nearly every student there had a family like that. "The curriculum is more open-minded as well." Hogwarts - and all other European schools, for that matter - had an unreasonable fear of the Dark Arts that Durmstrang did not share. Back there, she did not have to sneak around for a spellcasting practice. "I transferred because my estranged father misplaced his male heir. He wanted me as the replacement, and his offer was too good to refuse. Even if I had to accept inferior education as part of the bargain." That revealed a handful of personal details Julian would note if he cared to; that she was not a legitimate child, first and foremost. That she had a missing half-brother. That she was ambitious and pragmatic, too. And anything else he cared to guess. There was no point in hiding the facts she had shared; they would come out with little digging required. Maeve preferred to reveal it herself and thus remain in control of the narrative.

She flashed a very nearly mischievous grin when the boy noted her disapproval of the professors' methods. "Being part of the system does not mean I agree with every aspect of it. I did not become a Prefect by kowtowing to the faculty members." Nor did she oppose them overmuch - there was no need, model student as she was.

Julian's disapproval of their housemates' circumspect behaviour caused a humourless smile to form on Maeve's lips. "It would appear so. The society in this country is currently dominated by people who do not share traditional Slytherin values. Most of us do what we can to escape suspicion. Avoiding affiliation with someone yet unstudied seems to be part of it." That was not her way, but she could understand those who chose it. "You also don't appear too eager to be approached, and that is something that gets noted here. In other houses, that might have been ignored..."

Choosing not to reveal interest in Julian's reaction to possible inquiries about the Mulciber family, she moved on with the subject. "I did not give them time to try and study me from a distance, no. Striking up a conversation they had not prepared for was quite amusing, for a time - especially if I was able to catch them one by one." That was not always possible, and in any case, the fun was diminished once the first ones spread the word as to what could be expected from her. Still, she felt that she had made a good impression and her reputation remained solid.

His reaction to learning of the lowly status one of his dormmates bore was not disappointing. "Domhnall McEvoy," she revealed. In case Julian needed aid identifying which one that was, she supplied, "The class clown, I believe." Since she began identifying the Muggleborns for Julian's sake, she might as well add the other notable names to the list. "Tynan Ó Seighin as well - a fourth-year. There is also a bothersome ghost from times when it was far less common. He tends to attack those who openly show purist views; not that he can do much harm. Mostly, he just scares the younger students, and the older ones ignore him."

Curfew hadn't started yet. She supposed it was a good time for the tour, before anyone sprained their neck trying to eavesdrop inconspicuously. "Allow me to show you around the castle. Perhaps I can fill in the gaps that were left after the first tour. Shall we?" she positioned herself to begin walking towards the exit.

JULIAN MULCIBER

ooc: once again, so sorry for the long response time. Also, would you like Maeve to show him the Room of Requirement, or is that something you want him to discover later/under different circumstances?

[JULIAN MULCIBER]

Maeve was certainly proving to be a compelling being. Thus far, Julian had not interacted much with the Hogwarts disciples - and much of that was out of personal choice. It was only his first day at Hogwarts, and there was much on his mind. He had needed his personal space to gather his thoughts and to plan his next move. Everything up until the moment he had stalked into the castle had been carefully curated by his family to ensure Julian had every opportunity to learn and adapt. And he had been a sponge thus far: breathing everything in. He had surveyed his surroundings the moment he had been led into the Slytherin common room: the earthy, smoky scent of the underground dungeon space blended with the woody undertone of burning logs...The amassing of students excited to be back at school with their friends... The low, green tinge of light reflecting off the stone walls dancing across their faces giving them an almost haunting glow. There were approximately eighty-six students in the room with him, and the closest group were discussing the sorting ceremony - harmless. Of the exits there were only two: the stone steps that ascended up towards the marble staircase he had come down earlier, or the dormitory entrances which would have only led him deeper into the dungeons - not quite an escape route if needed. Of hidden passageways and shortcuts Julian was yet to learn: the secrets of the castle were not yet his to uncover. Julian was certain that would change - and change quickly. 

He studied Maeve as she discussed Durmstrang, touching on some of the points that his own parents had discussed prior to choosing Beauxbaton. That the school was known for being selective had been a major point for the Mulciber family to consider it for their son. He wondered what Thorne had thought of its shrewdness. She mentioend the curriculum then as well, of which Julian was familiar. Again - his parents had discussed the topic behind closed doors. Durmstrang offered Dark Arts as a subject, and tutored their students exceptionally in its practice. Many other schools had argued that its teachings would only encourage its use - but Durmstrang had been astute in debating that unless the students study the Dark Arts, they could not be prepared against it. Julian thought it was brilliant.

Then Maeve said something that caught his interest and Julian's ears pricked at the information. Estranged father...misplaced heir. So she was a bastard child, albeit a Pureblood one. He was impressed by her honesty and her brazenness. Not everyone could openly admit they were of an illegitimate coupling - many less those of pureblood status. His opinion of her improved, not because of her bastard status - but that she was willing to own it. Julian shifted slightly in his stance, becoming less standoffish, though not completely dropping his guard. A sole truth did not make for a concrete ally. "And if his heir returns?" Julian queried, still watching her for signs of hesitation or uncertainty. Her comment regarding inferior education made him sigh inwardly, "supplemental education can always be obtained." Whether that be within the school grounds or during school breaks, Julian made a mental note to ensure any gaps in his knowledge were addressed. 

"...I did not become a Prefect by kowtowing to the faculty members." Her words were music to his ears. Julian had never been the model student his father had wanted him to be. Although his parents had always lectured him in keeping his head down and achieving exceptional grades, Julian was less than cooperative with both students and professors alike. Although clever, he rarely sought achievement of the educational kind. "Hmm," he nodded responsively, feeling the warmth of the fire flash across his face as the light danced across Thornes. In the glowing light she appeared almost empyreal - though Julian suspected she had both bite and bark. "Why do I get the feeling that they adore you, regardless?" He had met people like her before - aggravatingly discerning, immediately popular. 

She smiled at his remark about his housemates slithering about, and Julian listened as she explained the society he had found himself so suddenly in. "And this would extend to the current government, I suppose?" He questioned, though was sure he already knew the answer. Although young, he had listened enough to adults in his circles complain about the governing bodies and their inaction against the rise of Mudbloods and half-breeds in Magical channels. As she mentioned escaping suspicion, his eyes narrowed. Again, his parents' lessons seemed to be getting in his way. Keep your head down. Learn. Do not make waves. It seemed that inaction was a poison even here. As Thorne then made a remark about his dislike of being approached, Julian brushed it off, "let them make notes," social elegance was not his forte, and nor did Julian feel like prostrating to the status-quo. 

"You played with them," his tone gave away a hint of amusement, before it went dark again, "I do not have the same enthusiasm," he allowed his eyes to leave her momentarily, lifting up over the top of her head and across the common room once more. Much of the excited conversations had died away, and students had began to group off, studying their new class timetables and compare amongst themselves. 

Domhnall McEvoy. Julian still felt his blood running hot at the name, recognizing it from the parchment he had received detailing his new dormmates. "Naturally," he almost spat at her revealing McEvoy was the class clown. There was no better role for a mudblood than be the laughing stock of the elite. A jester, entertainment of kings - of course. Tynan Ó Seighin, came another name - an older student, the year above him. Julian almost knew better than to pick a fight with an older student, but often his rage got the best of him. Maeve then spoke about a ghost that attacked students with purist views. Julian was caught immediately off guard: "Excusez-moi?" A fellow student he could deal with - but a ghost? He had never been exposed to ghosts around school halls - Beauxbaton had nothing of the sort. 

"Allow me to show you around the castle. Perhaps I can fill in the gaps that were left after the first tour. Shall we?" Julian was smarter than to allow Thorne to disappear just yet. Refusing a tour would likely mean the end of this conversing, and he was learning so much from her. Better to go, regardless of whether he was interested in their castle or not. Maeve had proved to be fruitful. She had turned to leave, and Julian sighed, pulling himself away from his position leaning on the mantle and sauntering behind her, "lead the way, Thorne."


MAEVE THORNE


ooc: no need to apologize! Yes please, room of requirement may definitely come in handy for Julian later on!

[MAEVE THORNE]

The question - what if Leonard Thorne returns? - had not been far from Maeve's mind ever since she accepted the role of a replacement heir. She knew it would reduce her influence, as she would no longer stand to inherit the family wealth. Although she rarely thought of marriage and procreation, Father had mentioned that her second son would be given the choice of taking on the Thorne name and receiving its legacy. At the age of sixteen, she had already broken off one engagement and barely dodged a second one - it showed just how desirable a bride this arrangement made her. It was not something she was particularly glad of at the moment, but she knew she would grow to value it in the future. Leonard could take it away if he came back. He would not completely ruin her prospects, but he would push her into the status of a mere legitimized bastard with pure blood and a sizeable yet not exceptional dowry. Needless to say, she was not keen on ever seeing her older half-brother return.

"Why, we fight to the death," she replied with a light chuckle, making it sound like a jest... even though it wasn't - at least not entirely. If needed, she would find a way to rid herself of such competition. She was a far better heir than Leonard had been. He gave it all up when he chose to flee, and he would not get it back. "Though I doubt he is still alive. It has been so long... he'd been gone for years before Father sought me out. I believe his late wife was opposed to bringing a replacement to the manor - especially one not of her own blood." Maeve had her suspicions regarding Lucrecia's sudden demise at an age when, while still not old for a witch, she could no longer be expected to produce another child. Especially since it enabled Father to go and fetch his illegitimate daughter. Yet even if she was correct in her surmise, it was not something he would ever confess to.

The redhead only nodded at the mention of supplemental education, not willing to divulge just how much of it she herself had been receiving. It would be unwise to share so much information with a new student, even if he shared her views. "Professors do like me... even most of my peers do, or pretend to. I have earned some accolades since I came here, and Slytherins respect that - even if they feel envious." The Trophy Room had several different awards with her name on it, the Prefect badge spoke for itself, and her grades were nearly perfect - if one ignored Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, and Basic Healing. In a house that valued tangible achievements, she could not help but be popular. And faculty members, whose main concern was providing good education, would not oppose an involved, well-behaved, high-achieving student. As long as she did not cause significant disturbances, occasionally disagreeing with her elders did not get her into trouble.

Julian seemed to possess a shrewd mind. Maeve inclined her head in agreement. "Yes, the government is cautious - most of the time. Every time it isn't, every time someone with a shred of courage takes control, a war breaks out. They can't help but be careful, though it only saves them for a short while. Society is divided, and our politicians are trying to juggle both sides - inevitably dropping one or the other into the mud every decade or so. Even if the only way to gain real stability is to root out the less deserving half..." She allowed the sentence to trail off, aware that this was a dangerous topic to discuss - even in the Slytherin common room, where most people would agree with her. There would still be some whom the system indoctrinated to betray their own kind and ally with Muggles instead.

It was evident that the Beauxbatons transfer did not enjoy the type of mind games Maeve excelled in. She could understand that - few people enjoyed them. Julian probably never needed to twist others around his finger, having been the heir of an influential family his whole life. His distaste for such games also granted him a fair level of immunity, as he would force those around him to be straightforward in order to keep his company. "Not everyone adopts the same approach. Your method works well for what you need, which is to be left alone."

The outburst in French, denoting Julian's understandable outrage at the possibility of a ghostly assailant, made her raise a hand in an attempt to pacify him. "Do not worry about him. Ghosts can't do much, other than causing an unpleasant cold sensation if they fly through you. And Bludworth only attacks those who bully his precious Muggleborns. If you ever feel inclined to do so, just make sure to learn the Wind Spell - it works to push ghosts away." Maeve herself had never been attacked by the ghost, as she cautious when voicing her views. Nonetheless, she had considered ways to repel him - should she ever catch him bothering another Pureblood.

As they neared the common room entrance, she quickly ran through the list of locations a new student should see. The Headmistress would have arranged a standard tour, showing the main shared areas and perhaps a few of the classrooms. Maeve planned to reveal some of the most efficient paths and shortcuts that led to each locale - as well as something no staff member would disclose to a student. The Room of Requirement was a secret still, even though it had existed since Hogwarts had been founded. She could not guess at how many of the current students and faculty members even knew of it, or how many were able to enter it. In the two years that she'd known of it, there had only been a handful of times when she could not enter it due to somebody else being inside. Still, she was careful not to tell just anyone about the Room as that could lead to it gaining too much popularity. Somehow, though, she doubted that Julian would go around spreading the word. Even so, it didn't hurt to make sure. "If I were to show you a place where you could spend your time undisturbed by others, how likely would you be to share this knowledge with someone else?"

JULIAN MULCIBER

[JULIAN MULCIBER]

"Why, we fight to the death," came Maeve's response, causing Julian to snicker at its audaciousness. Although quite a serious topic of conversation for Pureblood families, the way in which she handled the query was perfectly balanced. Julian sensed that her jest was not all there was to her answer - for how could it be? The threat of a legitimate heir returning to her family, the prospect of being cast aside... it would be equal parts angering and hurtful. Nevertheless, he accepted her answer, for they were not familiar with each other enough for him to pry, and nor was he willing to do so. She offered some more information to him then - that her half-brother had been missing for several years, and that he was likely dead. Julian mulled on it only briefly, interested only in the mention of the death of the wife. "Lucky, then... that she was gone." He understood her wording to mean that without her death - Maeve would not be welcomed to be in line for her fathers heiress. 

He was not surprised to have his suspicions confirmed that Maeve was popular with both Professor and student alike. She held an air about her that impressed a sense of purpose and confidence - without toeing the line of arrogance. Julian recalled how she had approached him first: a direct line, an unshaken self-assurance, mathematical in mind and answer. Julian had not met many other Purebloods his age from prominent families - purely because he had lived (thus far) a very sheltered life, kept tight within the grip of his own blood. However, upon first seeing Maeve, and how she held herself, Julian somehow knew this was what Pureblood should look like. She explained that Slytherins respected her accolades, despite being envious. "I'm not much for accolades," he admitted, being more the keep-to-himself type, "so I will have to think of another way to command respect," of what, he didn't know - but somehow Julian figured there were two types of respect: one that hailed from achievement, and the other from fear and caution.

He listened as she spoke more on their current government, drinking in the information he was severely lacking. The move here had been swift, and he was unfamiliar with much going on outside his home and school. At fourteen - governmental happenings weren't too interesting, but he knew that he needed to pay attention to garner the type of power that was being wielded. Hearing that the society was divided was good - a fractured society made for cracks whereby uncertainty and a need for stability could thrive. A strong leader, then, was all that was required for those falling through to latch onto - become propagandized then loyally follow. He wondered if there was such a leader out there now, recruiting, searching. There had to be. 

"Your method works well for what you need, which is to be left alone." Thorne had struck the nail on the head with that one. Julian was very much the type to want to be on his own: to seek isolation in all things. It was difficult for him to be around people, for he had never been in crowds, or been required to spend time with many others his own age. No, Julian's childhood had been almost exclusively his family and their beliefs. The only exception to this had been the occasional other pureblood child that had been brought over to mingle while their parents met behind closed doors. Levi Hilfiger, was one of those such children - which probably explained why Julian felt a loyalty to Levi that stood alone. "There is a weakness in my approach," he responded after a moment of reflection, "I am not so self-righteous as to believe I can achieve everything on my own... However-" although he knew of the strength that others could provide to him, Julian was not ready to branch out just yet. He was still settling, and had just experienced a significant trauma. Reaching out to others for support or guidance just wasn't something he felt capable of doing. 

After hearing about ghosts in the castle, Julian was understandably rather shocked. Maeve approached the subject matter calmly, and her serenity did indeed slow him down. He didn't much believe he would enjoy a ghost passing through him, and so swallowed the information about Bludworth and the wind spell readily. Perhaps when he had more experience with these ghosts he would feel more confident. Non-exposure certainly lent itself to doubt. "Noted," he responded calmly, mirroring her own composure. 


Julian followed in step with Maeve then as they moved through the common room, its other inhabitants now almost fully engaged in mindless conversations about their school break. Julian heard a young girl boast that she'd ridden a kelpie across Loch Lomond. He listened a little longer about her supposed adventures as they passed, before moving out through the entrance and into the dungeons, leaving the excited conversations behind. Thorne questioned him then, and Julian did not waver, "you would offer me a place I can be alone, and believe I may share this knowledge?" He realised she was asking in caution, but the idea that he would readily destroy a place of solitude was rather misplaced. The prospect of somewhere secret, however, had definitely intrigued him. 

***

Presently, the pair had made it through the castle, Maeve's tour being much more in-depth than the brief one he had been provided with upon entry into the school. To be frank, Julian had not really been paying much attention to his initial tour either - figuring that the map they had provided him to use was enough to take him to wherever he was required to go. His initial belief had been wrong, however, and Julian was appreciative of the Prefect for leading him. There had been many brief stops along the way - and he had been shepherded from the South Wing with its intricate hallways and courtyards, all the way to the North - where the cavernous library and swirling towers reminded him a little of his previous school. Right now, however, Julian was pacing before a sandstone wall on the seventh floor, while Maeve looked on. She had given him instructions on how to open this secret room, and so he was trying to concentrate on what he needed in a solitary space. He was frowning as he stalked back and forth, mind rather muddled. But then, suddenly, a slight breath from Maeve and Julian stopped, lifting his head to catch sight of a sudden grand door before them.

He turned slowly to face it, eyes running across the details: dark ebony, with ornate wrought iron adorning its frame. A single iron doorknob sat in the centre of the door, uninviting. It was not a door that felt welcoming, and Julian wondered if that had anything to do with himself. Curious. He stood there, unmoving, knowing that Thorne likely expected him to go inside, but he suddenly felt off. What had he been thinking of when creating this doorway? Had he been thinking of a serene place in which to read and bask in the ambience of privacy? No. He had been distracted - his mind jumping between isolation and loneliness; pain and new beginnings; fear and uncertainty. He felt a prickle of coldness running down his spine, and his stomach twisted uncomfortably. 

He did not want to go through that door. 

Julian cleared his throat, turning to Maeve, "merci for your insight...You have perhaps swayed my opinion on this school and its inhabitants. I am glad, at least, to know my House has strong leadership." He found he did not have to force the words - for they were true. Thorne had been good company - and Julian found her refreshingly to-the-point. He did not feel it necessary to compensate for silences as they toured, and she did not request that he lighten or offer meaningless remarks. It seemed she had read his character better than most. 
It was startingly late - with just how big the castle was - the tour had taken up much of their evening. Julian assumed it was about time for dinner, and all their walking had proven to build his appetite. "Let me lead us downstairs - only correct me if I head the wrong direction." He moved further from the door, feeling the warmth return to his body the further he distanced himself. 

MAEVE THORNE
OOC: just finishing this thread