pandorasopenbox-blog

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

@fortescuesnet event: get to know the members: favorite definitely alive characters

=pandora lovegood=

“I still remember you as a little girl who overwaters plants because she doesn’t know when to stop g i v i n g.”

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

Credit: @theschoolofwitchery

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

Witch Aesthetics // Purple Witch

Blue | Gray | White | Red | Green | Pink | Orange

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

1000 Picspams Challenge | #321 Wizarding Schools Girls and Boys Aesthetics | Ravenclaw Girls

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

“I have never seen anything more beautiful.” - the astronomy Ravenclaw

for @ave-caeli and @kaneki-ken-in-the-tardis

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

tvddytonks.

Ted turned, taking in the somewhat familiar sight of Pandora. He offered a smile, his head tilting to the side, though not quite as pronounced as she had. “John Travolta? Really? I can’t say anyone has.” He admitted. “I can, yes, ballroom mostly. Why do you ask?”

     “Oh yes. You have a nearly identical face,” Pandora observed, her hand reaching up to cup his angled jaw, tilting it towards the sky for further study. “Do you? Oh, I wondered because with your identical features to John Travolta, I imagine you would make an amazing impressionist. Have you considered that as a career option?”

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

rabastanlestrcnge.

     Raising both brows, Rabastan stared at the willowy girl as she clutched the bludger to her body like it was an egg that was about to hatch. Tilting his head back, he released a sigh, running his tongue along his teeth, the pain in his side blooming outwards.

     “I don’t know. Who cares?” He scoffed, finding it difficult to concentrate. Pulling his bag from his shoulder sharply, he dug around, looking for a potion to take off the edge. “Pandora, great. I don’t sing. Do you have a fucking pain reliever?” He asked, looking around himself in case some other object decided it took a liking to the girl. 

     Staring at her incredulously, he narrowed his eyes. “Fantastic, you have a club,” he remarked, dropping his bag at his side when he came up empty, his fingers pressing at his temple. The last thing he needed was to get involved in some girl’s personal issues. “I have no idea who you are talking about,” he stated frankly, licking his lips to wet them. “But you’re obviously someone’s target. Bludger’s don’t just pop up out of nowhere.”

     Pandora found him fascinating. He was tall and sharp and there was a certain, hidden something, just there, right beneath his edgy surface. He seemed to play the part of an angry gentleman, but she did not buy that he was truly frustrated with her, as some other had been recently, and it made her relax.

     “Oh,” she replied thoughtfully. “I sing. Not very well, but the birds seem to like it.” She gave him a smile and tilted her head, staring up at him with massive eyes for several beats. It took her a moment to realize he asked for another pain potion and Pandora jumped, reaching into her bag. This time, she retracted a small vial of murky, blue-black liquid and handed it over. 

      “It won’t prevent bruising, but I made it myself. It makes you feel better when you get a bump,” she promised. 

       He was quick to blame someone for this bludger attack, but Pandora wasn’t sure she believed him. People were not so cruel. She frowned, considering for a moment. “I don’t think so,” she replied. “I’m just glad you seem to be okay. Do you need me to take you to the hospital wing?”

[pandorasopenbox-blog]

emmelinervance.

     Working on her charms homework, Emmeline sat perched by the fireplace, her book precariously propped against the arm of the chair. It was quiet in the room, the dull chatter of the students surrounding her drowning out the noise inside of her head, allowing her to focus on the words that danced along yellowed pages. 

     It was in a whoosh that Pandora arrived looking like a mutilated form of Christmas, her wellies oversized on her petite frame. A smile graced her lips as the girl began to speak, Emmeline always finding herself amazed by the other’s presence, the unique way in which she held herself.

     “I didn’t actually know that, but that is ironic,” she commented, tilting her head to the side as she studied the girl’s expression. “I don’t think you need to worry about floating away from inhalation. Unless you’re inhaling helium..,” she teased, a little laugh coming out at the joke. “What were you doing, Pandora? You’ve got paint on your cheek and it’s not raining, is it?”

    She glanced down at her own body.

     It was rare she paid attention to the clothes she put on, her mind so distracted by the early morning hours and recollecting beautiful dreamscapes that it was miraculous she ever made it to her first class each day. A small smile curled on her lips as Emmeline looked at her.

      She’d taught her something new.

      “Oh yes,” she began. “And in Romanian, our house is called Ochi-de-soim... Which strangely enough means hawk’s eye. Also, I believe Rowena was probably a vampire, but I can’t be certain.” 

       Pandora tucked a strand of frizzy hair behind her ear and frowned. “I hope I’m not inhaling helium! I did that once and oh Merlin, I didn’t sound right for days...” She scrubbed at her face with her fingers and shrugged. “Oh, I was doing some work. How are you, Emmeline? What are you working on? Please tell me it’s not History. I haven’t worked on that for days...”