respite -scully-

[ASHTA LAKSHMI]

The castle was chilly with the oncoming autumn weather approaching. Fires burned in grates in classrooms and dormitories, but there was little one could do to stave off the chill that seemed to permeate the stone walls.

Ashta had lived at Hogwarts for three years now, and she had traveled extensively, yet it seemed as though she would never adapt to the dreary climate in this part of Europe. She missed the sticky heat of India, the lush, humid air tinged with spices and the exotic tang of magic. Scotland was too cold and too grey, there was no color here, all she could smell was damp earth and rain.

She sat, curled comfortably in a large armchair in front of a crackling fireplace. A tea kettle hovered over the flames, heating something rich and smelling of heady spices, the fragrance filling the empty room with warmth and body.

The woman frowned deeply, a hand pushing back thick, dark hair as she read the essay in her lap. A very poor excuse for a dream interpretation. Ashta reached for her quill and set to work editing it. The sound of quill scratching against parchment was a pleasant one, comfortable and routine.

Halfway finished she shivered lightly despite the warmth of the fire and the curling fragrance of her tea. Setting the parchment down Ashta adjusted the pallu of her sari more securely over her shoulder. This particular sari she wore was a dark, night-sky blue with swirls of veridian and orchid, silver beads stitched along the lining.

Despite the weather, Ashta still wore her clothes from her home country. She owned a few pieces of their styles here and there, but she found them to be unflattering and uncomfortable.

[scully]

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Scully had received a tin of his grandmother's apple tart; she tried to send some nearly every weekend, and Fennel had, of course, taken an extra day to deliver it. It wasn't ruined, however. His grandmother had always taken extra, magical precautions to keep it fresh and warm, which Scully thanked her for. The taste and warmth of it was a firm reminder of home, which was always a comfort. He planned on eating it while grading papers and going over some notes, but there happened to be a small disturbance quite close to his office; apparently, the caretaker was dealing with a small Peeves problem, and the noise was enough to distract him from his work. Rather than bothering with it, he'd decided to take his things into the staff room, where he was sure to be rewarded with silence.

He took a few shortcuts down to the ground floor, whistling softly to himself, an arm hooked around a small pile of parchment and a thick, weathered textbook. His free hand held the tin upright, so it took a little bit of maneuvering to actually get inside the door. He closed it with the heel of a slightly worn, faded shoe and lifted the small lid on the tin, cocking a brow. Still intact. "Useless owl, nonetheless," he breathed, then readjusted himself and took a seat near the crackling fire. The castle had become quite drafty due to the colder weather, so he was grateful for the heat.

Without looking up, he dug into the tart, bringing a piece to his mouth and taking a large bite. Satisfied with the size of it, he chewed happily and reached for the pile of school-related things he'd placed on the floor near his feet. Mid-reach, however, he noticed Ashta, and smiled at her despite his mouthful of food. He straightened and took a few moments to finish chewing and swallow, and sniffed the air. "Your tea smells wonderful. How are you?" his wide, brown eyes fixed on her. An exotic person, he thought. He'd had a few conversations with her, before, but never on any kind of personal level. She was a fellow teacher, and that was really all he knew about her, apart from when she'd arrived and her cultural dress. He found her interesting, to say the least. He took another bite and chewed, making a small 'mmm' noise. "My grandmother," he told her, "She sends me this every weekend. It's really quite good. Try some?" he offered her the tin, paying no mind to the fact she could very well not want to be bothered.
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