<div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/ac71a6a595c83aaf50f65a0e1d66c125/tumblr_mzilhx0O3P1rjpd1ko1_1280.jpg)</div><strong>Character Name (PC/NPC):</strong>Professor Jerome Bellerose (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=193964.msg9464083#msg9464083)<br/><strong>Year/House:</strong>Professor<br/><strong>Relationship Status:</strong>Single<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Black coat and casual attire with carry-on satchel (http://24.media.tumblr.com/f9e421484bc77337c362feea32b50fa8/tumblr_mzj1c41Uog1rjpd1ko1_1280.jpg)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Bern Carriage<br/><strong>Date:</strong>September 1st<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Afanassii (Mentioned)<br/><hr/><br/>Tired, aching feet and legs carried Jerome Bellerose up the short steps into the warm interiors of the carriage.  More and more the sight of the comfortable, plush seats looked inviting, a welcomed sight after his long journey.<br/><br/>He sat alone, near the back of the quiet carriage.  It was only one of the few times he had been on the carriage from Bern, and admittedly he wasn't used to how quiet and empty the carriage was.  Apart from the student whom seemed to be sleeping, already prepared for the long and quiet journey, he seemed to be the only other person in the carriage.  It was something he didn't mind.  In fact, it was already becoming one of his more enjoyable travels back to the Mansion.<br/><br/>It had been a quiet, isolated summer spent in a quiet, isolated valley of the Alps.  Surrounded by the lush greens and waterfalls, he could be alone, away from everyone he knew, away from the troubles of the world and his troubling thoughts, where he could feel some sense of freedom.  There was no owl post, no fireplace where people could contact him.  He had been alone, cut off from everyone, just the way he liked his summers.  There were no pestering parents or students writing him about their grades.  No former students asking for letters of recommendation.  Nothing at all but the village of muggles and the crisp mountain surroundings.  It was a beautiful place, the kind of place he thought he could retire to, one day which crawled closer and closer.<br/><br/>The quiet air was soothing as he settled into his seat, retreiving old issues of "The Practical Potioneer" periodicals he hadn't been able to receive while away from his bag before diving into the backlogged scholarly journals on potion-making.