sybilla borgin (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} sibyls) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} gooseberry,@ 2017-01-22 12:28:00 |
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| Entry tags: | ! log, sybilla borgin |
Who: The Borgin family, annotated version (Sybilla, Larkin and Serena Borgin, and Bedwyr)
When: Saturday, January 21st, before Parent/Teacher Conferences (backdated)
Where: The grounds, beside the lake
What: Family time.
Sybilla takes slow, soft steps and listens to the sound of the small pebbles on the lakeshore underneath her feet. She wonders if it’s a telling sign of her hesitance, but busies her anxious mind by glancing up to Mummy’s cloak skimming the rocks as she walks arm in arm with Daddy. A chilly breeze rolls over the water, and Serena stops with a smile, fixing the collar of Larkin’s dark blue coat. “Surely you do not mind the weather here, darling?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at Sylla as they continue their leisurely stroll. “The cold does not bother me in the slightest, Mummy,” Sylla proudly replies, chin held high and defiant to any shiver. “Nothing a well-placed warming charm cannot fix.” She hears Larkin’s low, rumbling murmur of approval, and her heart soars. “You must be looking forward to coming home and being able to cast charms as you please, love. Your classmates at Hogwarts will be well pleased to see what you have learned in your time here.” Her heart sinks again, and her gaze ahead grows just as chilled and stoic as the winter stillness around them. Mummy and Daddy don’t look back, cuddled close to one another, so she instead glances up at her brother. Bedwyr is tall like Daddy, elegant and charming like Mummy, and she wonders if he has ever had to worry about disappointing them. He always knows what to say and how to act, and she can't ever imagine him struggling with his thoughts as she does. But he is so much like them - from his strong jaw to his soft eyes, and Sylla wonders if he has ever had to try to make it so as she does. He smiles at her encouragingly, and his gloved hand at her shoulder says more than words can. “Daddy? Mummy?” Sylla asks in a small voice after a moment of thought, of trying not to bite her lip and stifle down any apprehension. But Borgins are strong, and secure, and do not fret over speaking what they think. “Yes, darling?” Serena turns around first, switching her arm to stay nestled in the crook of Larkin’s elbow. Her face is gentle and calm, her blue eyes deep and expressive - the opposite of Daddy’s, controlled and strong and enigmatic. She wonders if she could be more like Mummy if she tried. She knows she is Daddy’s little mirror, Mummy has always told her so. But now, she does not find comfort in that thought. She focuses her gaze at him as she exhales a withheld breath, clasping her hands together in front of her as she continues. “I know the plan was to return to Hogwarts in my seventh year. But I have thought about it, and I think the opportunities presented to me here far outweigh that of the Hogwarts curriculum.” Sylla expects to feel relief when she tells her parents, but the anxiety only rises as she stares at them. Larkin’s eyes widen, and his brow arches upward. Serena holds his arm tighter, and her smile grows softer and kinder as his frown deepens. “You see, the diversity of the student body as well as the faculty is much wider-reaching than that at Hogwarts, and I have learned so much about the different magical traditions of the world.” Larkin remains stoic and unflinching. “American dueling styles are quite fascinating, and Hermeticism far outweighs the standardised classes at Hogwarts. I expect I have learned so much more about spell theory, and have progressed greatly.” Serena nods and her arm winds around Larkin’s back, her hand at his shoulder. “Animagus training simply is not offered at Hogwarts, and I feel if I stay another year here, I would not fall behind in my practice. Guided practice, granted. A much safer option than the independent study I would need to undertake at Hogwarts.” Only then does Larkin finally utter a word. “I did not know animagus training was an endeavour you felt so strongly about.” “I find the process of becoming an animagus is that of harnessing our innate magical powers to the highest degree. A full control and transformation, Daddy.” Serena nods and hums in agreement, pressed to her husband’s side. “The first animagus in the Borgin family, isn't that so, Larkin dear?” “Borgins and Burkes alike have always graduated from Hogwarts,” he replies, his shoulders weakening as he reaches into his trenchcoat. “Sylla would be the first to cross new ground, to be alumna to a modern, new school of magic.” “Modern,” Larkin mutters in thinly-veiled criticism, looking around at the lodge and cabins not far away as he places a cigarette in his lips. Before he can light it, Sylla holds her wand aloft, pressing it to the end of the cigarette. A small blue light glows between them, and Larkin inhales. His cold eyes soften, and Sylla doesn't think she is imagining the crooked smile on her father’s face. “I know it seems strange here. It is certainly not perfect,” Sylla sighs, tucking her wand back into her sleeve. “But I enjoy my studies so much here, and I feel I would miss out on so much were I to return back to Hogwarts next year.” Her heart feels heavy as she glances down to her feet, turning over a smooth stone under the toe of her boot. “I do miss you all very much, being so far away from home during the term, but when I do come home I know I have so much more to give and contribute.” Smoke rises as Larkin exhales, and he looks back to his wife. She presses a kiss to his shoulder, hiding her smile in his arm, as both Borgin ladies await his answer. “Then you are happy here?” “Yes, Daddy. Very much so.” “You are making friends? They treat you kindly here?” “Yes. The students here are a bit strange, but we are all strange in our own way, you always say.” He nods, chin set firm and determined. “And what of these strange events you have written home about?” Sylla narrows her eyes for a brief moment that only her mother recognizes, and she shrugs. “Americans are dramatic. They over-exaggerate and are prone to flights of fancy over things they are ignorant toward. It is nothing compared to that which has happened at Hogwarts in the past, surely.” “Let’s certainly hope not,” Larkin seems to laugh darkly, before turning to Serena and gazing at her for a moment too long. “Our darling girl is a strong young woman that is sure of what she wants, and we would not have it any other way, would we, dear?” Serena croons, grinning back to her daughter. Sylla feels as if she could stand a foot taller, instead of her parents and brother seeming to tower over her. Larkin takes another drag of his cigarette before crushing the burnt end under his foot, murmuring an unintelligible spell down towards it as it dissolves to cold ash, blowing away on the same breeze that sways through their coats. “A true Borgin. No matter how far away from home she is.” The conversation ends as Larkin takes a breath and turns to continue walking, as Serena falls behind to walk with Bedwyr. Sylla feels as if she is in a state of limbo, not having a definite, sure answer, or knowing where she stands. She knows there is much she cannot tell her parents, of the freedom of being in a place where not everybody knows of her relatives’ dubious past, or the work her family does. But it is a purgatory she lives in every day - the pride of her family, yet recognition of a dark and painful past. The steps she takes are just as calculated and careful as that which she walks across the lakeshore, until she has to jog to catch up with her father’s long strides. He gazes down at her with his strong, clear stare, one she finally recognizes as very much like her own. “Yes, darling?” “Daddy?” He stops, and the other steps halt along with him. “You aren't disappointed in me, are you?” Sylla asks, biting the inside of her cheek to stop her lower lip from trembling as anxious emotion threatens to bubble up and surface. Her father’s eyes soften and she hears him sigh, and he crouches down next to her, holding out his hand for her. “I could never be disappointed in you, love.” “Never?” “Never, Sybilla. I see so much of myself in you. Only now, you have the bravery and courage to go further than I ever did. To be more than I ever could.” He takes her hand in his, while the other rises to hold her cheek. “You make me so proud of our family, do you know that?” Sylla gulps hard and nods, holding her father’s hand tighter. “I hate to see you so far away from us, but I know you will always return home to us, and that is all I ask.” “Of course I will, Daddy. I miss you too.” “Then it is settled,” Larkin nods, holding his arms out to embrace Sylla in a long, comforting hug. She relaxes in his tight hold, breathing in the smell of wool and smoke from his shoulder, and savors every minute of her father’s time, knowing it will be precious and valuable when she is left alone once more. She looks back into his eyes as he pulls back, and she is certain she has Daddy’s eyes. Not Mummy’s. “We will discuss it with your professors. You are a most valuable asset to any school. You are a Borgin.” “I am, Daddy. And I will make you proud,” she says with a final nod, glancing back at her mother and brother as her father stands again, holding out his hand for her to take as they continue their leisurely stroll across the campus. One that Sylla has only ever felt like a tourist in. But now, for some strange reason, it all feels a bit different. |