Absence of the Glint

[Charlie Jones]

It had been hard to find the prefect badge in the midst of changed accessories and turned around objects. To Charlie, it seemed nothing was hers. Not her clothes. Not her quidditch items. Not even the things she had kept to remind her of her mother. Instead, it was rather uncomfortable to have it all, knowing a certain someone had touched them and scrutinized them. Even her clothes felt weird, as though they were newly starched and left no room for the space she wanted. Or rather just wasn't used to the sensations she had been deprived of for four months. One thing she wanted to touch though, was that prefect badge. The one that gleamed with pride whenever she walked down halls. It was nowhere to be found.

For a little while, she was fine with it. But when she had found it stashed away in her trunk, she couldn't pin it on her immediately. Instead, she pocketed it for the day and came back in the evening, the symbol of authority still tucked away in a sad little corner. Charlie had almost forgotten about it had it not poked her in the side when she leaned on the wall by the window to relax.

Digging in her pocket, she found it once again but this time examined it. Still the same, but so different. Instead, it was dirty, dark, and had no shine as it did when she used to polish it once a week. It was the only thing she ever kept so clean, she thought to herself with a low chuckle. Rubbing away at some of the dirt, she couldn't tell why it couldn't clean off right away. When she couldn't, she slowly shook her head.

She didn't want it anymore.

There was only one way to remedy that, though. For her own sanity's sake, it would not involve Thomas Bloxam, her Head of House, but rather an authority she trusted more. And just happened to be on the same floor that it was a turn of the direction and brief one knock, two knocks at the door.

[Tamis Raynor]

The fire crackled heartily behind the oak wood desk, breaking a log in half as a new wave of warmth encompassed the room. It was only the beginning of November, but it was not the chill of the oncoming Winter that Tamis was trying to ward off. Not the literal one. The heat against her back did little for the cold that had seeped in under her skin or the dread the had tightened so securely around her heart. But it did offer a familiar comfort with its soothing nature, even if Raynor only pretended that it helped.

Her eyes were still locked on the Headline Article of the morning's Prophet; "Auror Released from His Position at the Ministry of Magic." And there, right below it, a non-too-pleased Devin Brady scowled up at her. It was about the only expression he ever gave her, but for once he had reason to give it. And not just to her, but to the world. A brilliant auror, who just did not make the right choices. Whose choices? The question burned through any remaining comfort with chilling intensity. Thomas Bloxam, the Transfiguration Professor and Head of Slytherin quits, and Fiona... Raynor found her office deserted after the Halloween Masquerade. Deserted. Everything just, well, gone. No one else knew, just herself. And Raynor was determined to keep it that way, just the publicity Hogwarts needed right now. But Bloxam, Fiona, and now this. All right after her run in with Shaw. And with Banks and Leah now no longer at the school --

Bang. Pause. Bang. The Deputy physically jumped, scolding herself for being so easily startled. She should not have been. She had spread the word that the Headmistress "was not to be disturbed", her office had increased in business, but it had still unnerved her. Pushing her hair back, Raynor let out a ragged breath, hoping she did not look as worn and stretched as she felt.

"Enter," she called, priding herself on the stability of her voice.

Mentally pulling herself up, Raynor corrected her posture to add to the emotional boost, carefully schooling her expression back into the serene and unreadable mask she often retreated to when emotions ran rampage below the surface.

Whatever her own problems were, someone on the other end of that door needed her. Whether for directions or for help of a more serious nature, they needed her. The Deputy had to remain strong. After all, she was all they had left. And they did not even know it.

Somehow, that didn't help ease the uncertainty in her bones. The fire crackled again.

[Charlie Jones]

The voice Charlie was familiar with beckoned her and she could feel herself tense up at it. She hadn't thoroughly thought this through, but it had to be right for her. When she saw the badge in her hands, it suddenly felt heavier than before, and seemed to be a weight that was hard to handle. She could continue with it, yes, but wouldn't want to continue. Being demoted to a subconscious left time for a lot of contemplations to be thrown at her, and it was the only thing she could sometimes do so that she wouldn't go insane. Again and again that's what she had asked for. Sanity.

The tension in her body was painful for her recovering body, but it reminded her that there would be more of that if she went on with it. Slowly she paced herself and opened the door and saw just who she needed to see. Charlie wanted things to be simple again, and for that plan to happen, she had to overcome this step. It meant changing definitions for a lot of her relationships, but it's how it was supposed to be. She had made the promise not to change, but she secretly let the changes happen to her.

"Prof," she said solemnly at the door, but moved closer before she would instruct her feet to do so. These days she might have seemed more grave than she let on, and it was a bit hard to control that. She attempted a smile, but lowered it to one that meant bad news without meaning to. Quitting with that expression, she shook her head to the Deputy Headmistress. After her own out-of-body experience with the authority figure, she just knew she couldn't fool her even more than she wanted to. "I... I gotta resign." She outstretched her hand as far out as she could, her palm opening up to reveal the badge and the dents it caused in her hand. "Can't be a prefect. I can't." She shrugged as she tried to work on being nonchalant. Wasn't working either.

[Tamis Raynor]

Shadows gathered at the foot of the door, gliding from side to side as someone paced nervously before it. Then, an eternity later, the handle turned ominously and a recognizable face followed an all-too-known body through the door. Recognizable, but highly unexpected. The only time Charlie Jones decided to grace Raynor with her presence was during class nowadays. Though it was a relief seeing the girl somewhat more like herself. That condolence was short lived.

One look at the face. That was all that it took. Combining it with the funeral tone of her "greeting", and Raynor half expected the Slytherin's own execution warrant to be presented to her. But what she did hold out for Tamis' inspect was far more shiny; or at least it was suppose to be. The candle light should have reflected off a gleaming surface, the proud 'P' should had been alive with its fiery likeness. But it was not. It seemed to lack life, as if Charlie's emotions had been absorbed in the badge of metal.

Slowly, the Deputy's eyes traveled to meet those of the young woman's. Remembering quite frankly how it felt to peer at the world through them. What she saw disheartened her, but also brought a glimmer of hope. It was Charlie in the face. The personification that Raynor had noticed on the girl even when they had swapped bodies. It had been an aura missing from the girl for months now. But its return did not appear to be a jovial one.

"I... I gotta resign. Can't be a prefect. I can't." The Slytherin tried to keep a face, but the facade was a thin one, too sheer to fool even a blind man.

If only life was that simple in the real world. You don't want to do something, and you can just push it away. For that brief moment, Raynor envied adolescence and how much she had taken her own for granted. But she did not take the badge, not yet. Not with Miss Jones haggard expression, looking as if she was about to attend her own funeral.

"Take a seat, Miss Jones," she said. "I'll make us some tea. I have a feeling we are both going to be needing it."

[Charlie Jones]

Charlie bit her lip and slowly nodded, expressing a fraction of confusion with her lifted eyebrow but her jerked mouth representing a rather reluctant relief. Her hand seemed to clamp back shut like a clam reclaiming its pearl, and she kept it tight there as she found herself collapsing in the same seat where she had to endure one of her most tedious detentions with the professor. The only problems she ever had while in that office concerned authority figures, but now it concerned with herself and only herself.

"I'm gonna need a lotta sugar," she commented, hoping to adjust the tea to her liking as she wasn't usually the tea drinker as some of these Brits. In fact, she never drank it. But with this rare moment with Raynor, she didn't want to mess with it a lot.

She paused for a moment, finding a way to bring up the subject that she had to face now that she opened the door on it. "I think there's a few Slytherins I can recommend ya."

[Tamis Raynor]

The cringe that winced through Raynor was suppressed as Charlie reclaimed the badge. While never owning one herself, she had tampered with enough of them to know those blunt edges could be sharp when they wanted to be. It took every ounce of restraint to keep from leaning over the table and prying the shield of metal from the death grip. Not yet, not now. Especially not if Charlie's emotions were, well, as fragile as her own currently were.

Grateful that the Slytherin had taken a seat, Raynor allowed the tea pot to suddenly spring to life. Saucers and tea cups placed themselves in front of the two parties, quickly joined by jars of sugar, cream, and honey. The tea itself proceed to warm itself.

At the request, Raynor pushed the correct jar towards the sixth year, along with a spoon. "Try not to exceed a two to one ration of sugar to tea. I daresay I don't want a herd of Slytherin Girls showing up at my office tomorrow morning complaining that you were bouncing off the walls last night and that its my fault." Another small attempt at humor, hopefully not in vain. If she was going to get anything out of the girl beyond hesitant replies, she needed to relax her.

Busying herself with the heated teapot, she poured a generous amount into each of their cups before letting it hover a few inches above the wood surface of her desk. Then, she chewed over the calm request as she plopped a generous glob of honey into her own cup.

She had been about to suggest Jones that this was better discussed with her Head of House when she recalled that Bloxam had bailed on them a few days ago.

"All right," she said slowly, "Lets here them then. You would know better than I do who is suited for the job."

Her questions would come in due time. But for now, she was willing to let the girl do what she needed to.

[Charlie Jones]

Charlie was silent as the process of the tea came alive before her eyes. It had dbeen delicate and efficient but not time consuming. From that alone, she decided that that was how she wanted her own recovery to be. Any more time and she would have been impatient, just for this and for her own situation.She had eyed the cups a lot that she had taken into her brain what Raynor said but she let off a laugh, genuinely knowing how well a sugar rush factored into her activities when allowed.

At last, Raynor would listen to who she had in mind, and she gave it a thought as to who looked qualified to her. This would have to be based off any occurance she might have had with her fellow Snakes as well as give-ins, like age and experience in other things. She narrowed it down in the roster of her mind, coming up with only two names.

"There's Nic Torque..." But he messed with Hiro, she thought and turned her bias on the Slytherin boy, thinking she could find someone else better. "But you need another girl prefect, so go with Esmerelda Mizart. She's pretty cool." She sighed. To think of giving up this position seemed impossible, considering her two years at being a prefect. But she had to give it up.

[Tamis Raynor]

The Slytherin girl did have rather impeccable timing. The tea had been raised to her lips, the aroma of the therapeutic fumes very consoling. She blew gently, rippling the steamy surface, and sipped generously. And that when Miss Jones dropped the bomb on her; There's Nic Torque.

Choking is not usually a successful activity with a mouth full of liquid. Therefore, since her mouth was closed, it conveniently exited the body through the next quickest route so that the professor could go through with said activity. Now, it is unsure as to how many people have had the insides of their nose scorched by fresh hot tea, but the Deputy could now tell you from experience that it is not pleasant. There was little need for vocalization, however, her expression said it all.

Quickly producing a napkin, Raynor covered the lower half of her face, her freed lungs coughing triumphantly. There was a moment of gathering her wits and then she cleared her throat.

"No, I think not." She replied in response to Nic. He was actually a great candidate, getting better. But just not this year. She might confer with his Head of House... whoever that was now... about it next year, but not this one. But the second name she gave some thought. She didn't know the girl too well, but Bloxam odd enough had suggested it before he left. Something about the "she-boy acting funny" and a "just in case sort of thing." She never could understand that man.

"We'll see," she responded. A pause, and then the inevitable, "why do you want to give up your badge, Miss Jones?"

[Charlie Jones]

There was no use to getting used to tea. It was always hotter than she expected it to be, and she always tried to work in more sugar to remedy that. And when she did get around to drinking it, there was always this funny urge to lift up her pinky. Oh, but she had to be somewhat avoidant of that. Just as her pinky was halfway up to raising, she shot it back down when she heard the two infamous words of "We'll see." Well, that and Raynor's trip on the tea. Maybe things could get lost in translation, because whenever her father told her that, that was a quick point to a 'no'.

Things seemed to take a turn for the unexpected when Raynor asked her all about why she was giving it up. Without even thinking about it, her heart leaped. She should have seen this coming, but she didn't want to. What she did want, though, was to hand the badge, give a salute to Raynor and head back to the common room for something or the other. "Uh...." she stalled a bit, knowing it made her sound unprepared, but she just couldn't put her finger on why she didn't want prefectship. "I don't think I'm good at it anymore. Just gotta, um, well focus on being a qudditch captain now. You guys don't need me as a prefect anyways. Two years was good, right?"