Post by Christy Riddell on Jun 24, 2015 9:38:31 GMT -6
Christy Riddell was sitting at an empty table in the Great Hall eating a late lunch that the house elves had prepared for him. He was constantly forgetting to eat, especially when no one was around to pull him to the dining area. He had grown increasingly thinner over the years from his athletic build that he'd once possessed while he played Quidditch in his academy years. These days, though, he was usually too immersed in his books and journals to come up for air, let alone seek out food. Christy, his younger brother Geordie, and their good friend Jilly often rented a month-to-month leased apartment in Ottawa during the summer holidays, and quite often their preferred methods of employment left their fridge empty for days. Geordie busked on the streets with his violin, Jilly sold paintings for commissions, and Christy wrote odd end articles for newspapers and magazines. One day they would learn to get a "real" job, as most people tell them practically everyday, but with all three still enrolled at Aurora there was never enough time (or inclination) to become tied down with something more steady and predictable. And Jilly was only sixteen, so there wasn't much in the way of jobs that didn't include fast food.
So here Christy found himself, in the still empty (and unnaturally peaceful) dining hall, relieved that the Headmistress still allowed his "family" and him to arrive a week early before classes began to save them from wasting a month's rent on what would amount to only being in the apartment for a week. He was also grateful for the house elves that were always so happy and eager to please (when they let themselves be seen, from habit he supposed) and they always prepared him a feast when he only ever asks for a sandwich. In fact, spread before him on the vast table was a whole roast chicken, steaming bowls of mashed potatoes, buttery corn, oven-roasted crisp green beans, honey and butter glazed carrots, and a huge basket of sweet smelling rolls. There were ice-coated pitchers of pumpkin juice, sweet and unsweet tea, water, and a warming pot full of butterbeer. The house elves really loved to take care of him, but he felt that they always went too far.
With a plate heaped with food (that he wasn't even sure he'd be able to finish), he dug in while reading through three books spread open before him, occasionally jotting down notes on two separate pieces of parchment.
