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Tristan T. Travers (alliterative) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Tristan nodded, dropping his hands to his sides at the same time. Then he followed Melinda toward the lockers, not really sure what else he had to put up beside the ring and the winter cloak he'd put on over his Muggle attire. His wand was in his pocket, but he didn't know if that counted. Wouldn't it be a little easier to have it on hand, just in case? And, honestly, he felt a bit better about having it nearer to him ever since being released from Azkaban. Not that he anticipated using it for more than basic things like summoning strawberries or chocolate. But he couldn't help the feeling either way. In the end, he put his ring and cloak up, glancing around as he took the offered apron from Melinda.

As he put it on, he caught sight of what appeared to be rules listed on the wall. He read them, tying the apron in back, then, noticing that one mentioned hair, pulled out his wand from his pocket. Part of him knew he could put his hair up without magic, but he tried that before and found he couldn't seem to get it right. His hair didn't want to cooperate with him, and he chalked it up to a total lack of experience in putting hair up. That, and maybe it was somehow ingrained in girls. Either way, he used his wand to perform a quick and simple spell to put his hair up on his head and out of the way. He tucked his wand back in his pocket and followed another of the instructions, heading to the sink to wash his hands, rolling his sleeves up on the way.

Self-consciousness washed over him as he realized that part of the scar left behind by the Dark Mark peeked out from the rolled up sleeve. However, he ignored it as he walked over to Melinda and asked he where she'd like him, taking a moment to listen to her instructions. He refrained from letting her know he'd tried dipping strawberries at home to prepare, instead moving to an open work station and beginning to work on an order of chocolate covered strawberries, his brow furrowed a little in concentration.