ask-wren-zhang

[ask-wren-zhang]

(ooc) Ayyo???

tysm for the tag @balladofareader!! 🤍

write your name/nickname in the character headcanon generator and see what you get!

wait so um...

npt: @mysummerchild @haeerizm @cowboylikemily @sarastellasari @dxstoeskyvjbess @whoo0sh + whoever wants to join!

[ask-wren-zhang]

Zhang!

I heard you were the Alpha of the Ravenclaws. Does this still hold truth?

Who, me?

[ask-wren-zhang]

Can I schnitzel you real good?

I don't believe I'd make an appetising schnitzel

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Wren is busy writing a test in Charms when suddenly an unwrapped lemon drop rolls into her field of vision and stops in the middle of her worksheet.

Professor Ronen stands right in front of her with a wide smile and signals her to stay quiet with a soft shh. He gives her a wink before continuing on his way.

Tosses it to her flask of honey water - delicious!

[ask-wren-zhang]

Bunbushka

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It is the last day of February 1893. A not-so-out-of-the-ordinary fox confidently trots past the Ravenclaw students and right into Wren's dorm room while Wren isn't around. He surveys the place to make sure no humans (or bunnies for that matter) are in and closes the door with his hind leg. Locating Wren's bed, he jumps on it to place a small book-shaped parcel right in the middle.

He plans to make a quick escape but something doesn't seem right with the bedcovers. Fox tilts his head left. Then right. Squeels a little and jumps up as high as he can to pounce the little spot that was giving him the tingles. Nothing happens, of course, just his instincts playing tricks on him, but the Ravenclaw scarf by the headboard rustles a little until a sleepy niffler pokes her head out to stare at the fox with dazed eyes.

Caught in the act, the fox slowly scoots closer to the niffler. He gives Charlie's snout a quick apologetic poke with his nose and carefully pinches a side of the scarf with his teeth to slide it back onto the niffler's head. Right. Next time he'll also be checking for nifflers in the room.

If Wren pulls on the ends of the blue satin ribbon later, she'll uncover a copy of "Dragons of the Highlands: notes and observations" with a small "Happy Birthday!" note tucked in between the pages, signed by an old friend.

Wren finds herself waking to a rare gentle sun in the Winter's chill, peeking through the pale morning fog. She sits up just enough to see the the gleaming snow dusting the glass window by her bed has begun to disperse; it'd be Spring tomorrow.

"What an odd dream..." She murmurs, shaking away any lingering images of orange fur and prancing paws while her hand searches before finding Charlie's fuzzy head, petting it till the niffler acknowledges her with a sleepy chirp, burrowing deeper into a bundled scarf. It is when her bare feet touch the cold wooden floorboards, finally she notices something amiss.

A small package, with its corner digging into her thigh. Curious, she surveys the room - if there had been visits from any of their feathered friends of the owlery, surely she would've heard?

The small Ravenclaw opens the small parcel, fingers still clumsy in her drowsy haze as she starts digging at the wrapping paper. She gasps, bleary vision in her eyes suddenly clearing.

"A book!" She chimes, ignoring the disgruntled noises of her dorm mates. "And it's not just any book!"

She holds the textured gift with her arms raised, bathing it in the soft first light and watching its regal lettering catch the glow of morningtide. A small piece of parchment fall from between the pages, and Wren reads it with a smile.

"Ah, William. I always knew you missed Wilson."

She continues admiring her new gift, uncaring her little Charlie at the corner of her bed is pawing and playing with a patch of fox fur.

[ask-wren-zhang]

Do you want some of my banana bread? :D

Is that a trick question?

[ask-wren-zhang]

What is your favourite thing about potions? ...can you share some of your enthusiasm for the subject... (the note isn't signed)

What a question. Or, pertinently, what's not to like??

The array of colours inside gleaming vials, the iridescent smoke akin to the change of seasons, the rewarding sensations of a good squelch in the mortar

Nothing beats the freedom to dictate your cauldron however you wish.

A good brew can remedy the sick, nurture good tilled earth, or if the situation rises, a damn good sleeping draught!

Should you like, I'd be more than eager to exchange revision notes!

[ask-wren-zhang]

to Wren,

Did you know wrens are said to be the king of birds? Small, clever, unstoppable. You have crowned yourself in my heart, made yourself a home there with no intention of leaving. I would not let you, even if you tried.

Yours, Always. Karl Chickenfinger

P. S. Fabulous name by the way 🍗

[ask-wren-zhang]

Wren is practically vibrating as she trails after Hellendil as they descend to the dormitory, bouncing on her heels at just the thought of seeing Charlie's little face again.

"Just the chocolates? I'm surprised he didn't ransack the entire Hufflepuff common room in my absence!" She can't help but laugh when one eventful and vaguely mortifying occurrence in the kitchen is called to mind.

Whatever news Hels have for her, likely about the little niffler's many quests to satisfy his unending sweet tooth, as they often do. Though she can't bring herself to care at the moment, not when they're seconds away from a reunion. The past weeks without him had felt hollow; never Wren thought how much she would miss the endless nights of cleaning his den and decluttering his pouch, or even the manner his sugared paws would grab at her hair when he's too full to walk on his own.

It wasn't till they reach Hels' doorway when Wren finally catches up with her friend's words.

She halts in her steps. Wait, "she?"

"'Princess?'" Wren echoes, peering over one of Hels' shoulders as he gingerly urges the small darling awake; she teeters behind him, part of her half expecting an entirely different niffler.

Sure enough, she crouches down next to Hellendil, and there lays wee Charlie in a bunched sweater. Little sleepy boba eyes flutter open and widen at the treat - the flurry of paws and the treat nibbled away from existence were a familiar sight - then twinkling with recognition the moment they're met with Wren's.

The small niffler darts forward, her honks and squeaks lilting, mustering all the post-nap sluggish strength as small paws scale along Wren's arms and into a familiar cradling embrace.

Gleaming brown fur, chocolate speckled snout, wiggly fuzzy bum, and a pouch filled to the brim with loot shiny and/or sweetened.

This is, quite veritably, her Charlie.

"B-but you've only had him for...! All those times I held him- I remember making sure...!" Her gaze bounces from Hels to the now dozing niffler, evidently unaware of the young witch's frazzled stammers.

She scans the snoring bundle in her arms, studies him - her. The soft fur, both in texture and colour, small gait with no notable claws, the subtle difference of placement of the pouch from most other little ones of the litter, all of them were assumed baby boys.

Or so she thought.

Summoning every recollection: every brush of fur or laborious bath, every trip to Brood and Peck for checkup and pitstop in Honeydukes as compensation, each now a crude reminder mocking Wren just how long she foolishly allow such a datum so trivial escape her?

It's ridiculous, it's unheard of. What kind of a niffler mum is she??

"Charlie is a girl??"

It had been a harrowing week.

Wren is more than eager to stretch her legs, seeking a much needed reprieve from her endless assignments, the scent of old books, stacks of parchment and half written letters requesting extensions lest she inevitably becomes mad.

She’d expected the workload after the trip crossing North America with her parents, but right now homework will have to wait. As of this moment, there is only one matter occupying her mind, involving her small brownish, furry companion with a gluttonous belly.

She makes a beeline for the familiar milieu of the Ravenclaw’s Common Room, quickly spotting one of her favourite housemates. “Hellendil!” She chimes, almost tempted to crash into him with a hug. The mere sight of a fellow student fill her with immeasurable jitters after days of being confined to her desk.

“I’d planned to send you an owl but since I have you here, I wish to express my gratitude for looking after my wee Charlie in my absence!” She missed her little friend dearly, and knowing Charlie is less than eager to traverses out of the castle, who better to care for the lovable critter than someone who adores the creature as much as she does. “Should you ever need assistance in tending Sepulchria in the future, just know I’d be more than willing to be up to it. It’s the least I can do!”

“I’d be happy to collect him any time whenever he’s ready to come home to his nest. We both know he’s no Nosy, but a niffler nonetheless. I hope my boy didn’t cause much mischief!”

Hellendil is standing near the fireplace paging through one of his textbooks when he hears a familiar voice calling his name from across the common room.  He quickly turns in the direction of the voice, a smile coming to his face as he spots Wren heading toward him.  The book snaps shut and he opens his arms invitingly.  "Wren!  So good to see you, my friend!  The common room has been less bright without your smile and perhaps a bit too quiet.  I hope you haven't had too much trouble catching up.  I haven't seen you much since you got back so you must have been terribly busy.  If you need help with anything, don't hesitate to ask."

He can read in her stance this was a much needed break from all the catch-up work she'd been doing.  His smile widens again at the mention of her little furry companion whom he'd been caring for in her absence.  He chuckles a little at the mention of Sebastian's little mischief maker, Nosy.  "Charlie was very little trouble compared to our little teal friend.  A couple stolen chocolate frogs and sweets here or there and some holes dug in one of the planters in the common room, but nothing that couldn't be easily remedied or replaced.  I do have some rather surprising news for you, though.  Come with me and we'll collect your wee little one.  When last I checked a few minutes ago, she was nesting in one of my old sweaters in the dorm."  He motions towards the staircase and leads the way.

When they arrive at the dorm room, he places the book on the desk and hurries over to the bed where the little brown and white furball was still curled up in the sweater.  He kneels beside the bed and gently pets her with his forefingers to rouse her.  "Wakey, wakey little princess, your Mama's back from her travels and eager to see you." His eyes soften with a smile as the little niffler stretches against his fingers awaking from her slumber. He pulls a small treat from his pocket and offers it to Charlie as a little extra incentive.

[ask-wren-zhang]

Professor Ronen approaches you with a happy skip in his step and a smile on his face. "New year, new luck!" he says in a friendly manner and presses an unwrapped lemon drop into Wren's hand. "Here you go! We don't want you to get sick, Miss Zhang!"

"Professor Ronen! How are you, sir?" Wren smiles. The room does always seem a little brighter whenever the jovial man graces with his infectious presence. Then without thinking, she adds, "you're looking spry for a fossil. These lemon drops must do wonders."

[ask-wren-zhang]

Dearest Wren,

would you say Imelda smells like

Honey and Lavender?

Jasmin and Regret?

Soapstone and Pumpkin Spice?

a Warm Summer Breeze on a Sunny Day... and Lavender?

Intrusive Greetings,

Tony Bologna

Conjures her quill and adds a new alternative

All of the above depends on the day (not necessary in that order)

Proceeds to fold the curious parchment and stashes it away in her breast pocket

[ask-wren-zhang]

*Leaves a coconut snowman on your nightstand and waddles away.*

"...Where and how did did you come by coconuts of all things in Scotland??"

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*throws her hand up in the air in the middle of Herbology class* “An bhfuil cead agam dul go dtí an leithreas, más é do thoil é?”

Raises a dirtened hand.

"I need to go, too."

[ask-wren-zhang]

A mysterious and frantic Slytherin student races up to you demanding an answer immediately “Spuds or potatoes?!”

"Cheeky little snake, making me choose with a trick question like that..."

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*Throws a snowball at you and waddles away.*

(Muffled) That was an attempt on my life!