With a very faint pop, Trent appeared in the middle of High Street in Hogsmeade Village, seemingly out of thin air. After orienting himself, he looked longingly over towards the Three Broomsticks. Better not, he thought, as he pulled back the sleeve of his school robes to check his watch. The train would be arriving soon and he needed to time his appearance carefully. With one last look towards the pub, he turned his back towards the village and began to walk in the direction of Hogsmeade Station.
Trent wasn't looking forward to his final year at Hogwarts; indeed he did not want to return to school at all. With tomorrow being his eighteenth birthday and having been a legal wizard for a year, it was hard to imagine another ten months living under the castle's restrictions. Gringotts, unfortunately, demanded it: they do not take on employees with less than 'E' in all the appropriate N.E.W.T level classes.
It was school policy to arrive via the Hogwarts Express, and Trent had been at King's Cross that morning. But, dreading the eight-hour trip, he could not bring himself to pass through the barrier at 9¾, deciding to Apparate instead. Due to the school's anti-Apparition charm, however, the closest Trent could get to the castle was Hogsmeade Village. He would still need to take the carriages with his classmates, and in order to blend in with the crowd, he was already fully dressed in his school robes (his tie was in his pocket). Trent had shaved that morning, but already had a light stubble beard that hopefully helped disguise his refreshed "just-Apparated" appearance.
After hearing a train whistling faintly in the distance, Trent took up a spot against a pillar in Hogsmeade Station. Watching for the train to appear around the bend, he lit a cigarette. He was only an occasional smoker, but he savoured what would have to be his last own for a while. As the train rolled into the station, Trent ducked casually behind the pillar, obscuring him from sight until the time was right. With one last drag, he put out his cigarette, vanished it with a flick of his wand, and waited, listening to the voices of his classmates as they disembarked the train.
Here we go, he thought to himself as he stepped out and into the crowd of students.
One more year.
September 1, 2005
-
Kyle Winters
- 7th Year | Chaser
- Player: Jae
As the Hogwarts Expressed chugged towards its destination, Kyle watched as a little village slowly came into view, illuminated by the moon overhead. He recognised the familiar silhouette of the sharply angled roofs instantly, and as they neared, the individual buildings too. No offence to his family and friends in Bradford, but it felt great to be back again. He was looking forward to playing Quidditch, which he had come to love so much since he started playing during his first year at Hogwarts. Not everything was perfect, of course, but all things considered, he still preferred to be here.
“That’s Hogsmeade Village,” he pointed and announced to the other occupants of the cabin, a rowdy and energetic trio of First-Years. They had bounded into the cabin, plonking themselves on the seats and making themselves comfortable before asking if they could sit here with him because they couldn’t find any other seats, pretty please. (It was a lie; there were several other cabins with only one occupant, but to the trio, the guy with the crutches seemed to be the friendliest of the lot.) Not that Kyle would say no: it would be good for for the First-Years to have someone who could answer their every question, and their company and infectious cheer were very much welcome after his rather disappointing summer break.
At the sight of the the picturesque moonlit village, the younger children oohed and aahed. So impressionable, he thought absently to himself. Once upon a time he, too, had been just as impressionable, until his life was turned completely upside down. He could only hope that the trio would be able to hold on to their innocence a little longer than he had. “We’ll be alighting here at Hogsmeade Station,” he said. “Don’t worry about your suitcases – you can just leave them on the train, and they’ll be brought over to your rooms.”
“By magic?” One of the boys – a Muggle-born – asked.
“Well… house-elves actually, although they might be transporting the luggage using magic,” Kyle replied. Truth be told he wasn’t sure, but there were so many bags, and most of them were probably too heavy for the diminutive house-elves to carry. “There are many diligent house-elves who work at Hogwarts and help us out with the various chores like cooking and cleaning. You don’t usually get to see them, but be sure to thank them for their hard work if you do get a chance to meet them.”
“We will,” the brunette and self-appointed leader of the trio said on behalf of her friends.
“What’s a house-elf?” the Muggle-born boy asked at the same time.
But there was no time for a detailed explanation now. The train had pulled into the station, and all the students were required to get off. “Time to get going.” Kyle said as he ushered his juniors out of the cabin. Gathering his forearm crutches, he swept his gaze around to make sure nobody had left anything behind, before following the younger students out of the cabin. “We’ll be parting ways at the platform. First-Years get to ride on little boats and cross the Great Lake, so after you alight, go look for the groundskeeper, alright?”
“Alright!” the young students chorused.
Planting his crutches on the platform, he swung his good leg forwards and alighted from the train. Usually he would have worn his prosthesis, but his stump was aching, and he wasn't moving around a lot anyway. Hogsmeade Station was crowded and chaotic, as it always was on the first day of school. Lost and confused First-Years glanced around anxiously, uncertain of where to go as they were carried along by the relentless tide of older students. Here and there, the steady flow was disturbed by students hanging back to look for their friends, or trying to race ahead to catch up to someone.
And of course, he had to spot that popinjay in the crowd.
Cursing his luck, Kyle groaned as he turned his gaze away from the smug snake’s ugly mug. That prick had tripped him and sent him sprawling to the ground during his first visit to Diagon Alley, and proceeded to harass him whenever their paths crossed. Considering they were both Slytherins, that happened way more often than Kyle would have liked. Of late, though, their confrontations had become less physical, but the animosity between them was still just as, if not more, intense.
Deciding not to ruin his first day back at school, Kyle avoided the pureblood brat and followed the throng. But something caught his attention – the Muggle-born First-Year, separated from his friends and trying to find them. Meanwhile the brat was advancing towards the younger boy, with a glint of malicious humour in his eyes that he always had when he found a prime target to terrorise.
Oh well… so much for hoping for a peaceful first day at school.
Kyle tried to cut through the crowd to get to the boy, but it was hard enough fighting against the current even without being encumbered by his crutches and bad leg. Seeing a small gap open up, he swiftly Apparated there, just in time to interpose himself between the boy and the brat right before the latter could lay his hands upon the Muggle-born.
“Go pick on someone your own size,” Kyle growled.
“Much obliged,” the smug snake smirked, before doing exactly as he was told by driving his fist straight into Kyle’s gut.
@#$%&!!!
The pain blossomed outwards as Kyle doubled over, staggering backwards a couple of steps and almost losing his balance. Where did that brat learn to punch like that? He looked up and saw the brat closing in again, and in response he shifted his weight slightly to free up one of his hands. His opponent literally had a leg up over him in a fistfight, but he had a pair of crutches and he wasn’t afraid to use them.
The students around them were dispersing, not wanting to get caught up in the scuffle. Even the Muggle-born was fleeing as well, following the rest of the students to safety. But there was one more person who was emerging from behind one of the pillars nearby, his identity obscured by the shadows over his face. Not one of the pureblood’s goons, he hoped, as he tightened his grip on his crutch, waiting for the right moment to strike.
“That’s Hogsmeade Village,” he pointed and announced to the other occupants of the cabin, a rowdy and energetic trio of First-Years. They had bounded into the cabin, plonking themselves on the seats and making themselves comfortable before asking if they could sit here with him because they couldn’t find any other seats, pretty please. (It was a lie; there were several other cabins with only one occupant, but to the trio, the guy with the crutches seemed to be the friendliest of the lot.) Not that Kyle would say no: it would be good for for the First-Years to have someone who could answer their every question, and their company and infectious cheer were very much welcome after his rather disappointing summer break.
At the sight of the the picturesque moonlit village, the younger children oohed and aahed. So impressionable, he thought absently to himself. Once upon a time he, too, had been just as impressionable, until his life was turned completely upside down. He could only hope that the trio would be able to hold on to their innocence a little longer than he had. “We’ll be alighting here at Hogsmeade Station,” he said. “Don’t worry about your suitcases – you can just leave them on the train, and they’ll be brought over to your rooms.”
“By magic?” One of the boys – a Muggle-born – asked.
“Well… house-elves actually, although they might be transporting the luggage using magic,” Kyle replied. Truth be told he wasn’t sure, but there were so many bags, and most of them were probably too heavy for the diminutive house-elves to carry. “There are many diligent house-elves who work at Hogwarts and help us out with the various chores like cooking and cleaning. You don’t usually get to see them, but be sure to thank them for their hard work if you do get a chance to meet them.”
“We will,” the brunette and self-appointed leader of the trio said on behalf of her friends.
“What’s a house-elf?” the Muggle-born boy asked at the same time.
But there was no time for a detailed explanation now. The train had pulled into the station, and all the students were required to get off. “Time to get going.” Kyle said as he ushered his juniors out of the cabin. Gathering his forearm crutches, he swept his gaze around to make sure nobody had left anything behind, before following the younger students out of the cabin. “We’ll be parting ways at the platform. First-Years get to ride on little boats and cross the Great Lake, so after you alight, go look for the groundskeeper, alright?”
“Alright!” the young students chorused.
Planting his crutches on the platform, he swung his good leg forwards and alighted from the train. Usually he would have worn his prosthesis, but his stump was aching, and he wasn't moving around a lot anyway. Hogsmeade Station was crowded and chaotic, as it always was on the first day of school. Lost and confused First-Years glanced around anxiously, uncertain of where to go as they were carried along by the relentless tide of older students. Here and there, the steady flow was disturbed by students hanging back to look for their friends, or trying to race ahead to catch up to someone.
And of course, he had to spot that popinjay in the crowd.
Cursing his luck, Kyle groaned as he turned his gaze away from the smug snake’s ugly mug. That prick had tripped him and sent him sprawling to the ground during his first visit to Diagon Alley, and proceeded to harass him whenever their paths crossed. Considering they were both Slytherins, that happened way more often than Kyle would have liked. Of late, though, their confrontations had become less physical, but the animosity between them was still just as, if not more, intense.
Deciding not to ruin his first day back at school, Kyle avoided the pureblood brat and followed the throng. But something caught his attention – the Muggle-born First-Year, separated from his friends and trying to find them. Meanwhile the brat was advancing towards the younger boy, with a glint of malicious humour in his eyes that he always had when he found a prime target to terrorise.
Oh well… so much for hoping for a peaceful first day at school.
Kyle tried to cut through the crowd to get to the boy, but it was hard enough fighting against the current even without being encumbered by his crutches and bad leg. Seeing a small gap open up, he swiftly Apparated there, just in time to interpose himself between the boy and the brat right before the latter could lay his hands upon the Muggle-born.
“Go pick on someone your own size,” Kyle growled.
“Much obliged,” the smug snake smirked, before doing exactly as he was told by driving his fist straight into Kyle’s gut.
@#$%&!!!
The pain blossomed outwards as Kyle doubled over, staggering backwards a couple of steps and almost losing his balance. Where did that brat learn to punch like that? He looked up and saw the brat closing in again, and in response he shifted his weight slightly to free up one of his hands. His opponent literally had a leg up over him in a fistfight, but he had a pair of crutches and he wasn’t afraid to use them.
The students around them were dispersing, not wanting to get caught up in the scuffle. Even the Muggle-born was fleeing as well, following the rest of the students to safety. But there was one more person who was emerging from behind one of the pillars nearby, his identity obscured by the shadows over his face. Not one of the pureblood’s goons, he hoped, as he tightened his grip on his crutch, waiting for the right moment to strike.
happiness is only a word, just an empty dream that everyone wants
-
Trent Innes
- 7th Year
- Player: kim
As Trent emerged from the pillar, his eyes disinterestedly passed over the pair of students fighting in front of him; it was not his problem. He instead scanned the platform, looking for an opening in the crowd to disappear into. Trent noted Auror presence on the platform, but he had expected that. What he did not factor into his plan, however, was his older brother Dorian being there. Fuck, he thought, as he watched Dorian disembark the train. While Trent didn’t think any of his classmates would have noticed his absence on the train, there was a chance his brother might have. They were 'family', after all.
It wasn't surprising that Trent had forgotten about Dorian. Related though they may be, they were essentially strangers to each other. They had never lived together, not really, as Dorian started at Hogwarts the day before Trent was born. What little he knew of his brother was given unsoliciated to him by his parents the rare times they were in contact. Trent had seen Dorian around the castle on and off these last six years, but they had rarely made eye contact let alone spoken to each other. Trent quickly assessed the situation. Okay. It probably doesn't matter, he decided, taking his eyes off of his brother before Dorian could sense that he was being watched.
Satisfied that Dorian would likely not have noticed nor cared, Trent resolved to look for a carriage. He was preparing to go around the fighting pair when he did a double-take at the one wielding a crutch like a weapon. Kyle Winters. Trent and Winters had been at school together since the very first day. They were in the same house, in the same year, and they even shared a dormitory. He had always been cordial with Winters but has maintained a respectful distance from him (and everyone). In spite of this, Trent had come to get to know Winters a little bit; it was hard to not have an acquaintanceship with the guy that slept in the bed next to his for the last six years.
Trent knew that Winters had been bullied since the first year; he had intervened a few times – verbally, at least. He had never been present in any of the physical altercations involving Winters, but he had heard about them afterwards. He had seen many other fights at Hogwarts, but as a general rule, he did not care about anyone enough to involve himself in their battles. Trent didn't tolerate bullying, however, and always intervened whenever he had the chance. Knowing Winters' history of being bullied, Trent suspected that this altercation was no different, which he confirmed when he recognized the assailant as a known Slytherin bully.
"Hey," he called, his voice raised but even. "Fuck off." Trent moved closer to Winters, facing the bully, with both hands in his pocket in a casual stance. Trent had one hand on his wand, but he doubted he would need it to remove it from his pocket. This coward was not likely to attack now that he was outnumbered. "Alright, Winters?" he asked. Although Trent was happy to stand up for Winters, he wanted this fight dissolved before the Aurors got involved, or all three of them would be getting detention before the term had even begun.
It wasn't surprising that Trent had forgotten about Dorian. Related though they may be, they were essentially strangers to each other. They had never lived together, not really, as Dorian started at Hogwarts the day before Trent was born. What little he knew of his brother was given unsoliciated to him by his parents the rare times they were in contact. Trent had seen Dorian around the castle on and off these last six years, but they had rarely made eye contact let alone spoken to each other. Trent quickly assessed the situation. Okay. It probably doesn't matter, he decided, taking his eyes off of his brother before Dorian could sense that he was being watched.
Satisfied that Dorian would likely not have noticed nor cared, Trent resolved to look for a carriage. He was preparing to go around the fighting pair when he did a double-take at the one wielding a crutch like a weapon. Kyle Winters. Trent and Winters had been at school together since the very first day. They were in the same house, in the same year, and they even shared a dormitory. He had always been cordial with Winters but has maintained a respectful distance from him (and everyone). In spite of this, Trent had come to get to know Winters a little bit; it was hard to not have an acquaintanceship with the guy that slept in the bed next to his for the last six years.
Trent knew that Winters had been bullied since the first year; he had intervened a few times – verbally, at least. He had never been present in any of the physical altercations involving Winters, but he had heard about them afterwards. He had seen many other fights at Hogwarts, but as a general rule, he did not care about anyone enough to involve himself in their battles. Trent didn't tolerate bullying, however, and always intervened whenever he had the chance. Knowing Winters' history of being bullied, Trent suspected that this altercation was no different, which he confirmed when he recognized the assailant as a known Slytherin bully.
"Hey," he called, his voice raised but even. "Fuck off." Trent moved closer to Winters, facing the bully, with both hands in his pocket in a casual stance. Trent had one hand on his wand, but he doubted he would need it to remove it from his pocket. This coward was not likely to attack now that he was outnumbered. "Alright, Winters?" he asked. Although Trent was happy to stand up for Winters, he wanted this fight dissolved before the Aurors got involved, or all three of them would be getting detention before the term had even begun.
-
Kyle Winters
- 7th Year | Chaser
- Player: Jae
As his nemesis closed in, Kyle considered his options, factoring in the chance that he might have to defend himself against the unknown newcomer as well. Quick jabs with the crutch at long range to ward off his opponents and stay out of range? Or a solid thwack to where the sun didn’t shine to knock out one opponent first? He was about to wind up for an attack when the newcomer decided to step in.
“Hey!” The newcomer’s voice gave away his identity a moment before Kyle recognised him. Trent Innes? Thank goodness it was a friendly face: Trent was a fellow Seventh-Year Slytherin who stayed in the same dormitory as him. They weren’t particularly close – Kyle hadn’t been close to anyone since Rohaan’s passing, and Trent always seemed a little distant from everyone – but Trent had stood up for Kyle against his bullies a number of times, just as he was doing so now.
The popinjay turned to look at the source of the unexpected intervention. His face scrunched up with anger, but he stayed his hand. Now that he was outnumbered, he knew that it was wiser to retreat for the time being, and go after the mudblood later. Furthermore, the crowd of students around them was thinning, putting them in clear view of the Aurors at Hogsmeade Station.
Kyle nodded when Trent asked if he was alright. “Yea.” Forcing a smile, he tried his best to sound as though he wasn’t bothered at all by that punch. “I’ve been through way worse.” That statement was unfortunately too true: by now he had already lost count of the number of one-sided fights he had been involved in (and it was obvious which side he was usually on). He had always accepted such things as being part and parcel of school life. Someone was bound to end up at the bottom of the hierarchy, and it so happened to be him.
As the bully struggled to convince himself to back down, Kyle too had to resist his urge to throw in a snarky remark; Trent had stepped in to defuse the tense moment, and it would be counterproductive for Kyle to add fresh fuel to a guttering flame. Without warning the bully suddenly stepped into close range as though to throw another punch. With no time to counter (and inadequate room to bring his crutches to bear) Kyle braced himself for the hit… only to find a moment later that it had been a feint. “You watch your back,” the bully snarled in Kyle’s ear, the venom in his thinly-veiled threat burning as intensely as his fury. Satisfied that he had ‘thrown the last hit’, so to speak, he stomped off, still fuming over his bruised ego.
Watching as his nemesis vanished into the crowd, Kyle gripped his crutches the proper way again and stood up straight. His stomach didn’t hurt so much now; he really had endured much worse, and the ebbing pain didn’t bother him. What did, however, was the fact that they had been in full view of a couple of Aurors. With luck he might be able to stay out of trouble, but after that confrontation he didn’t feel particularly lucky.
“Thanks for the rescue,” he said as he turned to Trent. “I really thought it was going to end up as another ugly brawl.” Perhaps it was pure coincidence, or something about the dark-haired teenager and his usually unreadable expression that unnerved others, but the confrontations that Trent intervened in never turned violent. But just as Kyle was going to comment about that, he noticed one of the Aurors staring in their general direction. Had the Auror noticed the run-in after all? Or was there someone else behind them? Kyle turned his head back to check, and found that there were a handful of students further down the platform, straggling behind at snail’s pace. From this distance, he couldn’t be sure who the Auror had their sights on, and the only thing he could do was to keep his head down and his hair on. “That Auror seems pissed, and I hope it ain't because of us,” he said in a low voice. It would well and truly stink if they got punished because some imbecile decided to antagonise them. Doubly so because Kyle didn’t even get to sock the aforementioned imbecile with his crutch.
“At any rate, we better get going.” That bully had wasted enough of their time, and Kyle didn’t want to be late. “I for one don’t want to miss the carriages and end up walking to Hogwarts.” That was a joke, of course; he doubted that the carriages would leave before the students were fully accounted for. Still there might be other consequences if they were late. Consequences like... detentions.
“Hey!” The newcomer’s voice gave away his identity a moment before Kyle recognised him. Trent Innes? Thank goodness it was a friendly face: Trent was a fellow Seventh-Year Slytherin who stayed in the same dormitory as him. They weren’t particularly close – Kyle hadn’t been close to anyone since Rohaan’s passing, and Trent always seemed a little distant from everyone – but Trent had stood up for Kyle against his bullies a number of times, just as he was doing so now.
The popinjay turned to look at the source of the unexpected intervention. His face scrunched up with anger, but he stayed his hand. Now that he was outnumbered, he knew that it was wiser to retreat for the time being, and go after the mudblood later. Furthermore, the crowd of students around them was thinning, putting them in clear view of the Aurors at Hogsmeade Station.
Kyle nodded when Trent asked if he was alright. “Yea.” Forcing a smile, he tried his best to sound as though he wasn’t bothered at all by that punch. “I’ve been through way worse.” That statement was unfortunately too true: by now he had already lost count of the number of one-sided fights he had been involved in (and it was obvious which side he was usually on). He had always accepted such things as being part and parcel of school life. Someone was bound to end up at the bottom of the hierarchy, and it so happened to be him.
As the bully struggled to convince himself to back down, Kyle too had to resist his urge to throw in a snarky remark; Trent had stepped in to defuse the tense moment, and it would be counterproductive for Kyle to add fresh fuel to a guttering flame. Without warning the bully suddenly stepped into close range as though to throw another punch. With no time to counter (and inadequate room to bring his crutches to bear) Kyle braced himself for the hit… only to find a moment later that it had been a feint. “You watch your back,” the bully snarled in Kyle’s ear, the venom in his thinly-veiled threat burning as intensely as his fury. Satisfied that he had ‘thrown the last hit’, so to speak, he stomped off, still fuming over his bruised ego.
Watching as his nemesis vanished into the crowd, Kyle gripped his crutches the proper way again and stood up straight. His stomach didn’t hurt so much now; he really had endured much worse, and the ebbing pain didn’t bother him. What did, however, was the fact that they had been in full view of a couple of Aurors. With luck he might be able to stay out of trouble, but after that confrontation he didn’t feel particularly lucky.
“Thanks for the rescue,” he said as he turned to Trent. “I really thought it was going to end up as another ugly brawl.” Perhaps it was pure coincidence, or something about the dark-haired teenager and his usually unreadable expression that unnerved others, but the confrontations that Trent intervened in never turned violent. But just as Kyle was going to comment about that, he noticed one of the Aurors staring in their general direction. Had the Auror noticed the run-in after all? Or was there someone else behind them? Kyle turned his head back to check, and found that there were a handful of students further down the platform, straggling behind at snail’s pace. From this distance, he couldn’t be sure who the Auror had their sights on, and the only thing he could do was to keep his head down and his hair on. “That Auror seems pissed, and I hope it ain't because of us,” he said in a low voice. It would well and truly stink if they got punished because some imbecile decided to antagonise them. Doubly so because Kyle didn’t even get to sock the aforementioned imbecile with his crutch.
“At any rate, we better get going.” That bully had wasted enough of their time, and Kyle didn’t want to be late. “I for one don’t want to miss the carriages and end up walking to Hogwarts.” That was a joke, of course; he doubted that the carriages would leave before the students were fully accounted for. Still there might be other consequences if they were late. Consequences like... detentions.
happiness is only a word, just an empty dream that everyone wants
-
Trent Innes
- 7th Year
- Player: kim
The Slytherin jerk went in for another punch, and Trent - though surprised - was ready to retaliate. He pulled his wand from his pocket and had it pointed at the bully with a hex ready to go when it turned out that the bully had only been feinting. As Trent watched the bully stomp off with his tail between his legs, he felt it was safe to lower his arm, but he kept his wand held firmly in his hand at his side. Although his expression only revealed his satisfaction for a fraction of a second, Trent was pleased with the outcome. He had been correct in thinking that the coward would not attack now that he no longer had the advantage, and it looked as though he and Winters would be getting into Hogwarts without further incident
Trent only half-listened as Winters politely - yet unnecessarily, thanked him for the rescue. His mind was occupied with thoughts of later in the evening when he would find a quiet corner to himself in the Slytherin common room. He still had the feast to attend, though, and he wasn't looking forward to it. "Don't mention it," he said, sounding sharper than he intended to. Although he meant his words (his tone left little doubt of that), Trent did feel a pang of guilt: Winters was only being nice and didn't deserve that kind of response. He softened his expression somewhat before adding "It's not a problem." It was a poor attempt at returning the friendly gesture, but the best he could do for now.
Trent had thought the Aurors would have been his biggest obstacle to getting into Hogwarts, but he had momentarily forgotten about their presence during the would-be fight. Grateful for the reminder, he turned to look towards the Auror that Winters had pointed out. Trent took note of the Auror's angry expression, but that's not all he had noticed: Dorian was only a few bodies away from his annoyed co-worker. By the way Dorian was determinedly not looking at him, however, it was evident to Trent that his brother had witnessed everything and that he was simply choosing to ignore it. "Yeah, let's get a carriage," he said, agreeing that it was the best course of action. Hopefully, the rest of the Aurors had more important things to worry about than punishing some students for a fight that had already de-escalated by the time they had noticed.
By now, the crowd had thinned enough to reveal a long line of black and (what appeared to be) horse-less carriages parked alongside the road that led to Hogwarts grounds. Trent watched as students hFopped into the carriages in groups of two to four. Although his preference would have been an anonymous ride with students that didn't recognize him, he didn't dread the ride with Winters as much as he thought he would have. As they approached, a third Auror directing traffic pointed to the few carriages that were still unoccupied.
As Trent moved towards the closest carriage, that Slytherin jerk - apparently still holding a grudge - made his retaliation. Flinging the carriage door open and hanging out of the cabin, he pointed his wand at Trent. "Petrificus Totalus!" the bully yelled. Caught off guard, Trent did not react quickly enough in defence.
Fortunately, no counter-curse had been necessary; the idiot missed his target. A jet of purple light struck a nearby tree, causing a small branch to come crashing down to the ground. Trent had just enough time to laugh and say, "No wonder you fight with your fists," when a chorus of voices shouted "Expelliarmus!" Three wands flew out of their owner's possession and into the hands of the Aurors who had swooped in. Dorian was included among the three, but thankfully he seemed more interested in avoiding Trent's eye than giving out punishment. As for the other two Aurors, Trent wasn't sure what to expect from them.
Trent only half-listened as Winters politely - yet unnecessarily, thanked him for the rescue. His mind was occupied with thoughts of later in the evening when he would find a quiet corner to himself in the Slytherin common room. He still had the feast to attend, though, and he wasn't looking forward to it. "Don't mention it," he said, sounding sharper than he intended to. Although he meant his words (his tone left little doubt of that), Trent did feel a pang of guilt: Winters was only being nice and didn't deserve that kind of response. He softened his expression somewhat before adding "It's not a problem." It was a poor attempt at returning the friendly gesture, but the best he could do for now.
Trent had thought the Aurors would have been his biggest obstacle to getting into Hogwarts, but he had momentarily forgotten about their presence during the would-be fight. Grateful for the reminder, he turned to look towards the Auror that Winters had pointed out. Trent took note of the Auror's angry expression, but that's not all he had noticed: Dorian was only a few bodies away from his annoyed co-worker. By the way Dorian was determinedly not looking at him, however, it was evident to Trent that his brother had witnessed everything and that he was simply choosing to ignore it. "Yeah, let's get a carriage," he said, agreeing that it was the best course of action. Hopefully, the rest of the Aurors had more important things to worry about than punishing some students for a fight that had already de-escalated by the time they had noticed.
By now, the crowd had thinned enough to reveal a long line of black and (what appeared to be) horse-less carriages parked alongside the road that led to Hogwarts grounds. Trent watched as students hFopped into the carriages in groups of two to four. Although his preference would have been an anonymous ride with students that didn't recognize him, he didn't dread the ride with Winters as much as he thought he would have. As they approached, a third Auror directing traffic pointed to the few carriages that were still unoccupied.
As Trent moved towards the closest carriage, that Slytherin jerk - apparently still holding a grudge - made his retaliation. Flinging the carriage door open and hanging out of the cabin, he pointed his wand at Trent. "Petrificus Totalus!" the bully yelled. Caught off guard, Trent did not react quickly enough in defence.
Fortunately, no counter-curse had been necessary; the idiot missed his target. A jet of purple light struck a nearby tree, causing a small branch to come crashing down to the ground. Trent had just enough time to laugh and say, "No wonder you fight with your fists," when a chorus of voices shouted "Expelliarmus!" Three wands flew out of their owner's possession and into the hands of the Aurors who had swooped in. Dorian was included among the three, but thankfully he seemed more interested in avoiding Trent's eye than giving out punishment. As for the other two Aurors, Trent wasn't sure what to expect from them.
-
Kyle Winters
- 7th Year | Chaser
- Player: Jae
[[OOC: My apologies, this reply took way too long. It's also way longer than what is needed, but I got a bit carried away.]]
Kyle didn’t mind Trent’s gruff reply; that was how he usually was anyway, and there was no hostility in the tone nor the words. In fact it was Trent himself who was less at ease with the way his words came across, for he unexpectedly added, “It’s not a problem.”
Simultaneously bemused and impressed, Kyle could only nod in acknowledgement as his characteristic lopsided grin spread across his lips. Trent actually making an effort not to appear brusque? Now that was something he hadn’t seen yet. Though Trent had a good heart – that was pretty obvious to Kyle – he was often misunderstood because of his cool and aloof manner. However, Kyle’s grin faded quickly as the students realised that they might have gotten the attention of the Aurors, and agreed to get to the carriages swiftly.
Hastily the duo made their way down the platform, Kyle’s crutches click-clacking a little too loudly for his liking as he quickened his pace. “Should’ve worn the friggin’ prosthesis…” Without meeting the Aurors’ eyes, he hurried past them with his head down, trying not to draw further attention towards himself. It probably didn’t work, with his noisy crutches and all, and after he had passed them he thought he could feel their eyes burning holes in his back.
Up ahead, Kyle spotted a row of black carriages patiently waiting by the side of the road. Most of them were already filled, and another Auror was, with much less patience, directing the students into those that still had empty seats, while trying his best to ignore the students' occasional protests at being made to sit in the same carriage as people they didn’t like. While Kyle shared their dislike for being stuck inside the same carriage as idiots who hated his guts as much as he hated theirs, what bothered him more was whatever was outside – specifically, the thestrals that pulled the carriages. Initially, like many other students, he couldn’t see the creatures, and he simply thought that the carriages were enchanted and thus able to move on their own. It was only after Rohaan’s death that he gained the ability (or curse) to perceive these eerie and sinister-looking beasts.
He remembered seeing them for the first time, and how he was instantly repulsed and disgusted by their skeletal appearance, yet gripped by a morbid fascination that made him unable to pull his eyes away from the repugnant creatures. Their dark, slick skin was stretched so painfully taut over their gaunt frames that every protrusion of their bones could be clearly seen. Their hooked, beak-like mouths, and that unsettling hole at their snouts that looked as though a chunk of flesh had been gouged out to create their nostrils (or whatever that hole was supposed to be). Their pale, beady, pupil-less eyes seemed to stare straight into his soul at all his wounds and sorrows, and made him more naked and vulnerable than he had ever felt. The massive leathery wings, when outstretched, loomed menacingly overhead like a dark shroud that was ready to fall upon and engulf him completely. Their shrill, haunting and echoing cries were like crashing glass that raked his nerves and sent shivers down his spine. And their unreadable countenance and restrained movements stood in stark contrast to their sinister appearance, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing that threatened to shed their disguise and unleash upon him the full fury of their aberrant, malignant savagery the moment he dropped his guard.
But above all it was how those damned thestrals could only be seen by people who had understood what death was. That was how the Care of Magical Creatures professor had explained it in their class. Every time he saw a thesthal it felt as though the freshly formed scabs of his psychological wounds were being ripped off yet again. It was as though the grief of losing a loved one wasn’t enough, and one had to be subject to the torment of being reminded of their pain over and over again. From where did such a creature with such a sadistic and twisted quirk come? He didn’t know, nor could he act upon that knowledge even if he knew. The only thing he could do was to resent those creatures and their alien quirk and everything they reminded him of, until the day he somehow made peace with himself and his failure to save his best friend's life.
As the two Slytherin students approached the carriages, one of the thestrals turned to look at Kyle, somehow cognisant that he was able to perceive it. There was nowhere to hide from that blank, piercing gaze, and he couldn’t help but give voice to the discomfort he was feeling. “Never liked being stared at by thestrals,” he muttered under his breath.
That was by no means the last of his troubles. Abruptly, the door to the nearst carriage flung open, perfectly blocking the thestral’s line of sight. But this was no welcome distraction, for that bloody Slytherin jerk suddenly popped out and pointed a wand at Trent. “Petrificus Totalus!” Instinctively Kyle grabbed his own wand and prepared to cast a counterspell, although he had scarce begun to wave his wand when it was magically pried from his grip.
You gotta be kidding me… he thought as he recognised the voices of the Aurors behind him. If he hadn’t been in trouble for the commotion earlier, he sure as hell was now. He spun around and saw the three Aurors, each with a student’s wand in their hand. The one in the middle – the one who had noticed Kyle earlier – was staring daggers at the three wayward students, a mix of anger and disappointment in her eyes. The other two Aurors seemed content with letting their colleague take charge here. One of them – the one ushering the students earlier – was rather fresh-faced and inexperienced, while the older one looked as though he’d rather be somewhere else, instead of being stuck here babysitting schoolkids.
“Why is it always you two?” the Auror in the middle demanded, directing her rhetorical question towards Kyle and the jerk. This wasn’t the first run in they had with her; she had a real talent for being around when the two of them weren’t on their best behaviour. At the same time she shot Trent a quizzical look; as far as she knew he never caused any trouble before, and it seemed highly unusual for him to be involved this time round.
The popinjay fell silent in what was essentially an admission of guilt. There was no weaselling his way out of this mess, now that he had been caught red-handed attacking another student with a spell. But Kyle wasn’t going to blindly accept any punishments without first putting up a fight. “But I ain’t do nothing, Madam,” he protested vehemently. That was largely true, and even though he did draw his wand, it had been in self-defence. Furthermore he had already turned seventeen over the summer break, so he could no longer be faulted for attempting to use magic outside of school.
Not that any of those reasons mattered if the Auror had already formed her own conclusion about how the incident unfolded. “What were you intending to cast? Incendio?” she asked, brandishing Kyle’s wand like a murder weapon recovered from a crime scene. The student flinched; he hadn't intended to roast the jerk alive just now, although he once attempted to do so in a fit of anger during his fifth year, and the Auror never let him forget that ever since. Having shut down two of the students' protests, she proceeded to pass judgement upon the students right there and then. “Detention for all three of you,” she declared unilaterally. “And I’ll see to it that your Head of House is informed of your misdeeds.”
Now it was the twerp’s turn to object. “You can’t do that!” he complained. “That’s an abuse of authority. My p— I’ll lodge an official complaint against you!” he countered, just stopping shy of bringing his influential parents into the picture.
“Go on, I’d love to see you try,” the Auror replied confidently, certain that the school would not take any action against her in light of the irrefutable evidence that the students had been fighting. “And you will await further instructions regarding your detention at the entrance of the Great Hall after the Welcome Feast.” She then turned her attention to Trent and Kyle; having dealt with Kyle and his nemesis before, she knew better than to put those two students in the same detention session. “As for you two, I’ll see the both of you tomorrow evening at the entrance of the Great Hall, after dinner. Have I made myself clear?”
Kyle didn’t mind Trent’s gruff reply; that was how he usually was anyway, and there was no hostility in the tone nor the words. In fact it was Trent himself who was less at ease with the way his words came across, for he unexpectedly added, “It’s not a problem.”
Simultaneously bemused and impressed, Kyle could only nod in acknowledgement as his characteristic lopsided grin spread across his lips. Trent actually making an effort not to appear brusque? Now that was something he hadn’t seen yet. Though Trent had a good heart – that was pretty obvious to Kyle – he was often misunderstood because of his cool and aloof manner. However, Kyle’s grin faded quickly as the students realised that they might have gotten the attention of the Aurors, and agreed to get to the carriages swiftly.
Hastily the duo made their way down the platform, Kyle’s crutches click-clacking a little too loudly for his liking as he quickened his pace. “Should’ve worn the friggin’ prosthesis…” Without meeting the Aurors’ eyes, he hurried past them with his head down, trying not to draw further attention towards himself. It probably didn’t work, with his noisy crutches and all, and after he had passed them he thought he could feel their eyes burning holes in his back.
Up ahead, Kyle spotted a row of black carriages patiently waiting by the side of the road. Most of them were already filled, and another Auror was, with much less patience, directing the students into those that still had empty seats, while trying his best to ignore the students' occasional protests at being made to sit in the same carriage as people they didn’t like. While Kyle shared their dislike for being stuck inside the same carriage as idiots who hated his guts as much as he hated theirs, what bothered him more was whatever was outside – specifically, the thestrals that pulled the carriages. Initially, like many other students, he couldn’t see the creatures, and he simply thought that the carriages were enchanted and thus able to move on their own. It was only after Rohaan’s death that he gained the ability (or curse) to perceive these eerie and sinister-looking beasts.
He remembered seeing them for the first time, and how he was instantly repulsed and disgusted by their skeletal appearance, yet gripped by a morbid fascination that made him unable to pull his eyes away from the repugnant creatures. Their dark, slick skin was stretched so painfully taut over their gaunt frames that every protrusion of their bones could be clearly seen. Their hooked, beak-like mouths, and that unsettling hole at their snouts that looked as though a chunk of flesh had been gouged out to create their nostrils (or whatever that hole was supposed to be). Their pale, beady, pupil-less eyes seemed to stare straight into his soul at all his wounds and sorrows, and made him more naked and vulnerable than he had ever felt. The massive leathery wings, when outstretched, loomed menacingly overhead like a dark shroud that was ready to fall upon and engulf him completely. Their shrill, haunting and echoing cries were like crashing glass that raked his nerves and sent shivers down his spine. And their unreadable countenance and restrained movements stood in stark contrast to their sinister appearance, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing that threatened to shed their disguise and unleash upon him the full fury of their aberrant, malignant savagery the moment he dropped his guard.
But above all it was how those damned thestrals could only be seen by people who had understood what death was. That was how the Care of Magical Creatures professor had explained it in their class. Every time he saw a thesthal it felt as though the freshly formed scabs of his psychological wounds were being ripped off yet again. It was as though the grief of losing a loved one wasn’t enough, and one had to be subject to the torment of being reminded of their pain over and over again. From where did such a creature with such a sadistic and twisted quirk come? He didn’t know, nor could he act upon that knowledge even if he knew. The only thing he could do was to resent those creatures and their alien quirk and everything they reminded him of, until the day he somehow made peace with himself and his failure to save his best friend's life.
As the two Slytherin students approached the carriages, one of the thestrals turned to look at Kyle, somehow cognisant that he was able to perceive it. There was nowhere to hide from that blank, piercing gaze, and he couldn’t help but give voice to the discomfort he was feeling. “Never liked being stared at by thestrals,” he muttered under his breath.
That was by no means the last of his troubles. Abruptly, the door to the nearst carriage flung open, perfectly blocking the thestral’s line of sight. But this was no welcome distraction, for that bloody Slytherin jerk suddenly popped out and pointed a wand at Trent. “Petrificus Totalus!” Instinctively Kyle grabbed his own wand and prepared to cast a counterspell, although he had scarce begun to wave his wand when it was magically pried from his grip.
You gotta be kidding me… he thought as he recognised the voices of the Aurors behind him. If he hadn’t been in trouble for the commotion earlier, he sure as hell was now. He spun around and saw the three Aurors, each with a student’s wand in their hand. The one in the middle – the one who had noticed Kyle earlier – was staring daggers at the three wayward students, a mix of anger and disappointment in her eyes. The other two Aurors seemed content with letting their colleague take charge here. One of them – the one ushering the students earlier – was rather fresh-faced and inexperienced, while the older one looked as though he’d rather be somewhere else, instead of being stuck here babysitting schoolkids.
“Why is it always you two?” the Auror in the middle demanded, directing her rhetorical question towards Kyle and the jerk. This wasn’t the first run in they had with her; she had a real talent for being around when the two of them weren’t on their best behaviour. At the same time she shot Trent a quizzical look; as far as she knew he never caused any trouble before, and it seemed highly unusual for him to be involved this time round.
The popinjay fell silent in what was essentially an admission of guilt. There was no weaselling his way out of this mess, now that he had been caught red-handed attacking another student with a spell. But Kyle wasn’t going to blindly accept any punishments without first putting up a fight. “But I ain’t do nothing, Madam,” he protested vehemently. That was largely true, and even though he did draw his wand, it had been in self-defence. Furthermore he had already turned seventeen over the summer break, so he could no longer be faulted for attempting to use magic outside of school.
Not that any of those reasons mattered if the Auror had already formed her own conclusion about how the incident unfolded. “What were you intending to cast? Incendio?” she asked, brandishing Kyle’s wand like a murder weapon recovered from a crime scene. The student flinched; he hadn't intended to roast the jerk alive just now, although he once attempted to do so in a fit of anger during his fifth year, and the Auror never let him forget that ever since. Having shut down two of the students' protests, she proceeded to pass judgement upon the students right there and then. “Detention for all three of you,” she declared unilaterally. “And I’ll see to it that your Head of House is informed of your misdeeds.”
Now it was the twerp’s turn to object. “You can’t do that!” he complained. “That’s an abuse of authority. My p— I’ll lodge an official complaint against you!” he countered, just stopping shy of bringing his influential parents into the picture.
“Go on, I’d love to see you try,” the Auror replied confidently, certain that the school would not take any action against her in light of the irrefutable evidence that the students had been fighting. “And you will await further instructions regarding your detention at the entrance of the Great Hall after the Welcome Feast.” She then turned her attention to Trent and Kyle; having dealt with Kyle and his nemesis before, she knew better than to put those two students in the same detention session. “As for you two, I’ll see the both of you tomorrow evening at the entrance of the Great Hall, after dinner. Have I made myself clear?”
happiness is only a word, just an empty dream that everyone wants
-
Anwen Sawyer
- 6th Year | Prefect | Seeker
- Player: Felix
Anwen was both nervous and excited to start her sixth year at Hogwarts. She knew at this point if she wanted any type of real career in the magical world she would need to really buckle down and focus on her studies this year. Not that she had much else to focus on. It wasn't like she had much in the way of friends or 'romantic' interests. She often found herself more on the side of the introvert who was everyone's shoulder to cry on. The only real social events she attended were the quidditch matches, and that was strictly because she was on the team as their seeker.
The train ride to the station was rather uneventful. She had to endure her 'best friend' blabbering on about this boy and that boy. What she was looking forward to the most was seeing her new 'boyfriend' and to be quite honest, Anwen could care less. In fact, it annoyed her slightly to even hear about it, partly because Anwen didn't get the same kind of attention that her friend did. Her friend, Lorin always got the looks from the boys. Lorin promised that one-day Anwen would get someone to look at her and even gave Anwen the push to talk to some of them. Wen sort of scoffed at her and shrugged her shoulders. "I have more important things to do than to worry about who is dating whom, Lorin." She smiled at her friend though. She didn't want to make Lorin feel like she didn't care, but it was hard to show interest in something that was so trivial.
When the train came to a stop, Anwen sighed with relief. Lorin assured her they would get a carriage together so they could continue their topic of conversation. It was the whole reason Anwen took her time getting off the train and even didn't mind when some of the compartments emptied out in front of her as she made her way off of the train.
The hustle and bustle of the first day back at Hogwarts always made Wen smile. The first years running around confused, old friends coming back together, new friends being made, and even a fight? She perked a brow as she saw a boy being punched in the gut by another student. She would have made her way over there, but there were too many people between her and the other student. She tried to push past them but there was no way to get there. Luckily another student stepped in, and she immediately recognized him as Trent. She refrained from rolling her eyes and was just glad that someone was stepping in to help.
She turned to find a carriage knowing she probably wouldn't end up in the same carriage as her friend, which was perfectly fine with her.
After sitting down, she watched as the three students who were a part of the scuffle received detention. It wasn't exactly fair, was it? The two that were defending themselves were given a punishment when it should have just been the bully who had started it all. Justice never seemed to be served properly, at least in Anwen's opinion, especially in this case.
Wen looked down at the camera that dangled from her neck and let out a sigh. She just wanted to get to school at this point. She was exhausted from the excitement and couldn't wait to dive into some yummy food at the feast.
The train ride to the station was rather uneventful. She had to endure her 'best friend' blabbering on about this boy and that boy. What she was looking forward to the most was seeing her new 'boyfriend' and to be quite honest, Anwen could care less. In fact, it annoyed her slightly to even hear about it, partly because Anwen didn't get the same kind of attention that her friend did. Her friend, Lorin always got the looks from the boys. Lorin promised that one-day Anwen would get someone to look at her and even gave Anwen the push to talk to some of them. Wen sort of scoffed at her and shrugged her shoulders. "I have more important things to do than to worry about who is dating whom, Lorin." She smiled at her friend though. She didn't want to make Lorin feel like she didn't care, but it was hard to show interest in something that was so trivial.
When the train came to a stop, Anwen sighed with relief. Lorin assured her they would get a carriage together so they could continue their topic of conversation. It was the whole reason Anwen took her time getting off the train and even didn't mind when some of the compartments emptied out in front of her as she made her way off of the train.
The hustle and bustle of the first day back at Hogwarts always made Wen smile. The first years running around confused, old friends coming back together, new friends being made, and even a fight? She perked a brow as she saw a boy being punched in the gut by another student. She would have made her way over there, but there were too many people between her and the other student. She tried to push past them but there was no way to get there. Luckily another student stepped in, and she immediately recognized him as Trent. She refrained from rolling her eyes and was just glad that someone was stepping in to help.
She turned to find a carriage knowing she probably wouldn't end up in the same carriage as her friend, which was perfectly fine with her.
After sitting down, she watched as the three students who were a part of the scuffle received detention. It wasn't exactly fair, was it? The two that were defending themselves were given a punishment when it should have just been the bully who had started it all. Justice never seemed to be served properly, at least in Anwen's opinion, especially in this case.
Wen looked down at the camera that dangled from her neck and let out a sigh. She just wanted to get to school at this point. She was exhausted from the excitement and couldn't wait to dive into some yummy food at the feast.
-
Trent Innes
- 7th Year
- Player: kim
With his years of sneaking out, breaking curfew, and skipping classes, Trent had gotten in trouble with enough Aurors to know that it was pointless to argue with them. To be fair, he didn't know this particular Auror very well, but if she was hoping to elicit a reaction from him, he wasn't going to give her that satisfaction. Trent said nothing, but stared back impassively, his hand held out waiting for his wand to be returned to him. There was a pause, and when Dorian acquiesced, Trent met his brother's eyes for the first time.
Judging by the dubious expression on Dorian's face, he wasn't in agreement with his colleague's actions. Aurors weren't technically allowed to give detention (though many still did), and for a moment it almost looked as though Dorian had been about to object. Trent stared at his brother, trying to understand his rationale for keeping quiet. Either Dorian didn't care or – it was now occurring to Trent – did not want to be accused of giving preferential treatment to his little brother.
It wasn't common knowledge that the two were related, but it wasn't a secret, either. Not only did they share a last name, but there were physical similarities too; both young men had identical hazel eyes and the exact same shade of onyx-black hair. Neither of them went around advertising the fact that they were brothers, but it wouldn't be hard for someone to connect the dots and work out the truth.
At last, Dorian spoke, his voice commanding, yet still gentle in a way that Trent personally found to be unnerving. "We're ready to leave. The last carriage is waiting. Hurry up." For one horrifying moment, Trent had thought this meant he would be riding with them to the castle, but to his relief, Dorian disapparated. Trent watched as his brother reappeared in the distance and ordered the first carriage to depart, evidently the leader of the procession.
Following his brother's instructions, Trent headed towards the back of the line where he could see a still-parked carriage waiting for them. As the carriages began to move - as if on their own - Trent was reminded of what Winters had said before the interruption. "I can't see the thestrals," he said offhandedly; his way of acknowledging that he understood the implications that Winters could see them. They had reached their designation by now, and knowing that Winters might not welcome this topic of conversation (he had muttered it under his breath, after all), Trent provided him with an easy out. Not waiting for a response, Trent turned his back and climbed onto the carriage. As he pulled himself up to reach the cabin door, he remembered Winters' earlier regret of not wearing the prosthetic. Would Winters need or want help climbing in? Not wanting to make rude assumptions, Trent decided to let him take the lead.
Trent wrenched open the cabin door, preparing to jump down to allow Winters first entry when he discovered the carriage was already occupied by a familiar-looking Hufflepuff girl. "Oh, hey," he said, before hopping back down to the ground and stepping aside for Winters, his brow furrowed as he tried to remember her. Finally realizing their connection, Trent looked back up at the girl, whose name he now recalled to be Anwen. "How's it going?" he asked, his face forced into a smile that disguised the awkwardness he felt now that he knew who she was.
Judging by the dubious expression on Dorian's face, he wasn't in agreement with his colleague's actions. Aurors weren't technically allowed to give detention (though many still did), and for a moment it almost looked as though Dorian had been about to object. Trent stared at his brother, trying to understand his rationale for keeping quiet. Either Dorian didn't care or – it was now occurring to Trent – did not want to be accused of giving preferential treatment to his little brother.
It wasn't common knowledge that the two were related, but it wasn't a secret, either. Not only did they share a last name, but there were physical similarities too; both young men had identical hazel eyes and the exact same shade of onyx-black hair. Neither of them went around advertising the fact that they were brothers, but it wouldn't be hard for someone to connect the dots and work out the truth.
At last, Dorian spoke, his voice commanding, yet still gentle in a way that Trent personally found to be unnerving. "We're ready to leave. The last carriage is waiting. Hurry up." For one horrifying moment, Trent had thought this meant he would be riding with them to the castle, but to his relief, Dorian disapparated. Trent watched as his brother reappeared in the distance and ordered the first carriage to depart, evidently the leader of the procession.
Following his brother's instructions, Trent headed towards the back of the line where he could see a still-parked carriage waiting for them. As the carriages began to move - as if on their own - Trent was reminded of what Winters had said before the interruption. "I can't see the thestrals," he said offhandedly; his way of acknowledging that he understood the implications that Winters could see them. They had reached their designation by now, and knowing that Winters might not welcome this topic of conversation (he had muttered it under his breath, after all), Trent provided him with an easy out. Not waiting for a response, Trent turned his back and climbed onto the carriage. As he pulled himself up to reach the cabin door, he remembered Winters' earlier regret of not wearing the prosthetic. Would Winters need or want help climbing in? Not wanting to make rude assumptions, Trent decided to let him take the lead.
Trent wrenched open the cabin door, preparing to jump down to allow Winters first entry when he discovered the carriage was already occupied by a familiar-looking Hufflepuff girl. "Oh, hey," he said, before hopping back down to the ground and stepping aside for Winters, his brow furrowed as he tried to remember her. Finally realizing their connection, Trent looked back up at the girl, whose name he now recalled to be Anwen. "How's it going?" he asked, his face forced into a smile that disguised the awkwardness he felt now that he knew who she was.
-
Kyle Winters
- 7th Year | Chaser
- Player: Jae
Nobody spoke up when the Auror handed out the detentions. Any further protests from the students might have led to even greater repercussions, so instead Kyle had hoped that the dark-haired Auror would step in and put an end to his colleague’s shenanigans… but alas he did not. At the very least though, he was the first to return the wand in his hand to its rightful owner, which left the other Aurors with little choice but to hand over the wands to Kyle and the jerk. And before the female Auror could antagonise the students further, her dark-haired colleague dismissed them and told them to proceed to the last carriage.
He’d just have to be content with these small mercies. No good deed goes unpunished, Kyle thought to himself as he followed Trent to the last carriage in the line. Life was bloody unfair, and although he knew that all too well, he still felt terribly sore about the way the whole situation had played out. In particular, he was filled with indignation at how Trent had been implicated despite being an innocent party. “Sorry for dragging you into this mess,” Kyle apologised once they were out of earshot of the Aurors. In hindsight he should have just walloped the jerk first, and maybe Trent would have just walked on. But it was too late for regrets now.
The whole episode with the Aurors had soured Kyle’s mood so much that he had clean forgotten about the thestral that was staring at him earlier, and he only remembered that he had unconsciously grumbled about it aloud when Trent casually mentioned that he couldn’t see those creatures. He was about to say how fortunate Trent was, before he bit his tongue to stop himself. Maybe Trent had his own demons that Kyle knew nothing of, and he decided to downplay his own discomfort instead. “Their looks creep me out,” he finally whispered back to Trent, as though he was afraid of the thestrals hearing his words. His concerns were well-founded, for the thestral nearest to them suddenly stretched its wings and let loose a shrill screech that made fingernails on a chalkboard sound angelic in comparison. Shrinking away, Kyle clamped his mouth shut and inwardly cursed himself for being stupid. Clearly the whole series of unfortunate events was gnawing at his sanity and impairing his judgement.
Finally, the duo arrived at their carriage. Trent proceeded to open the door first, and immediately went “oh, hey.” So the carriage wasn’t empty after all, and Kyle wondered who the occupant was. His curiosity was further piqued when Trent hopped back down on the ground. Why would he let Kyle board first? Was it because of the person inside the carriage? Or did he somehow figure out that Kyle preferred to have a little more room inside the carriage to board more easily?
Moving over towards the entrance, he unhooked both his crutches from his arms and set them down inside the carriage. Next, he placed his hands on the carriage floor and jumped, using his arms to boost himself up. His left foot found the lower step easily, and as he stood up he found himself at eye level with the occupant.
“H-hi,” he squeaked in an awkwardly high pitched voice, his face reddening immediately as he recognised her: Anwen Sawyer, the Hufflepuff seeker. Being one year apart, he rarely encountered her outside of the Quidditch Pitch, but he was always amazed and impressed by how impossibly cool she was during the rare occasions when their paths crossed. Granted, she was a seeker, and while he generally admired seekers for their superb flying skills, that was not the main reason why he was so taken by her. Rather, it was how she always appeared so confident and comfortable in her own skin, despite her little quirks like walking around barefoot. She was like a radiant and incorruptible ball of sunshine, forever cheerful and never letting the opinions of others get to her and...
An impatient snort from the thestral jolted him out his daze. Heck, how long had he been standing here gawping at Anwen? He felt himself turning an even deeper shade of red, all the way till the burning-hot tips of his ears. “Sorry, don’t mind me,” he hastily said, before ‘stepping’ into the carriage with his right knee and climbing inside. Scooping up his crutches, he eased himself onto the seat and scooted all the way in, allowing Trent to enter as well.
“Thank goodness we don’t need to carry our stuff with us,” he blurted out in an attempt to lighten the mood, and immediately regretted saying something so utterly dumb and banal. Heck, he had been the bloody cause of the weird atmosphere, and he had to dig an even deeper grave for himself. Right now he wanted so badly for a hole to open up below him and swallow him whole so he could hide. This was really not his day.
He’d just have to be content with these small mercies. No good deed goes unpunished, Kyle thought to himself as he followed Trent to the last carriage in the line. Life was bloody unfair, and although he knew that all too well, he still felt terribly sore about the way the whole situation had played out. In particular, he was filled with indignation at how Trent had been implicated despite being an innocent party. “Sorry for dragging you into this mess,” Kyle apologised once they were out of earshot of the Aurors. In hindsight he should have just walloped the jerk first, and maybe Trent would have just walked on. But it was too late for regrets now.
The whole episode with the Aurors had soured Kyle’s mood so much that he had clean forgotten about the thestral that was staring at him earlier, and he only remembered that he had unconsciously grumbled about it aloud when Trent casually mentioned that he couldn’t see those creatures. He was about to say how fortunate Trent was, before he bit his tongue to stop himself. Maybe Trent had his own demons that Kyle knew nothing of, and he decided to downplay his own discomfort instead. “Their looks creep me out,” he finally whispered back to Trent, as though he was afraid of the thestrals hearing his words. His concerns were well-founded, for the thestral nearest to them suddenly stretched its wings and let loose a shrill screech that made fingernails on a chalkboard sound angelic in comparison. Shrinking away, Kyle clamped his mouth shut and inwardly cursed himself for being stupid. Clearly the whole series of unfortunate events was gnawing at his sanity and impairing his judgement.
Finally, the duo arrived at their carriage. Trent proceeded to open the door first, and immediately went “oh, hey.” So the carriage wasn’t empty after all, and Kyle wondered who the occupant was. His curiosity was further piqued when Trent hopped back down on the ground. Why would he let Kyle board first? Was it because of the person inside the carriage? Or did he somehow figure out that Kyle preferred to have a little more room inside the carriage to board more easily?
Moving over towards the entrance, he unhooked both his crutches from his arms and set them down inside the carriage. Next, he placed his hands on the carriage floor and jumped, using his arms to boost himself up. His left foot found the lower step easily, and as he stood up he found himself at eye level with the occupant.
“H-hi,” he squeaked in an awkwardly high pitched voice, his face reddening immediately as he recognised her: Anwen Sawyer, the Hufflepuff seeker. Being one year apart, he rarely encountered her outside of the Quidditch Pitch, but he was always amazed and impressed by how impossibly cool she was during the rare occasions when their paths crossed. Granted, she was a seeker, and while he generally admired seekers for their superb flying skills, that was not the main reason why he was so taken by her. Rather, it was how she always appeared so confident and comfortable in her own skin, despite her little quirks like walking around barefoot. She was like a radiant and incorruptible ball of sunshine, forever cheerful and never letting the opinions of others get to her and...
An impatient snort from the thestral jolted him out his daze. Heck, how long had he been standing here gawping at Anwen? He felt himself turning an even deeper shade of red, all the way till the burning-hot tips of his ears. “Sorry, don’t mind me,” he hastily said, before ‘stepping’ into the carriage with his right knee and climbing inside. Scooping up his crutches, he eased himself onto the seat and scooted all the way in, allowing Trent to enter as well.
“Thank goodness we don’t need to carry our stuff with us,” he blurted out in an attempt to lighten the mood, and immediately regretted saying something so utterly dumb and banal. Heck, he had been the bloody cause of the weird atmosphere, and he had to dig an even deeper grave for himself. Right now he wanted so badly for a hole to open up below him and swallow him whole so he could hide. This was really not his day.
happiness is only a word, just an empty dream that everyone wants
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Anwen Sawyer
- 6th Year | Prefect | Seeker
- Player: Felix
After a long-drawn-out yawn and a brief flick of her finger to close the shutter on her camera, the carriage door swung open. Her eyes quickly fell upon none other than Trent Innes. The boy that had slept with her friend Lorin. Although she had gotten Lorin's side of the whole thing, Anwen wasn't entirely convinced that it was all the story. In fact, she wasn't even sure how much of the story was true and how much Lorin had fabricated in her own mind. She wouldn't pass any real judgment on Trent until she knew the truth of it all and got his side of the story, or at the very least got to know the boy that was behind the repuation.
Nevertheless, she smiled her bright and warm smile at the boy who poked his head in first. "Hello." But just as quick as he popped in, he popped back out. Anwen leaned forward slightly trying to figure out what was going on. It wasn't until she saw the crutches that she knew what was going on. When Trent spoke up again and asked her how it was going she smiled once again and gently strugged her shoulders. "Bit of an injustice if you ask me." She wasn't going to let the awkwardness of her friends encouner with Trent, make things weird for her. She let out a small giggle before looking down to Kyle.
When the small squeaks in the form of the words hi came from his mouth she beamed and waved overly entusastically. "Hello there." She looked to him and his eyes were settled on her as he stood in the entry of the carriage. She blinked a few times and tugged at her hair. "Do I....have something on my face?" She quickly started wiping at her face as the boys eyes stayed locked on her.
When the thestral snorted Awnen smiled. "Impatient little cuties aren't they?" She smiled and offered him a hand as he started step into the carriage. She didn't even notice the fact that he had turned red. It wasn't the norm for someone to blush because of Anwen after all. "Mind you? Why would I mind, I think I'd rather enjoy the company on the ride to the castle."
"Oh, I don't suppose we'd really carry it anyhow...We do have magic after all. But imagine, carrying our trunks he way muggles do." She shuttered to think trying to haul around her trunk full of clothes and books. Not only that but the cage for her owl Petey. It wasn't natural. "OH!" She said with too much excitment. "I"m Anwen Sawyer...Hufflepuff." She offered out her hand to the two of them.
Nevertheless, she smiled her bright and warm smile at the boy who poked his head in first. "Hello." But just as quick as he popped in, he popped back out. Anwen leaned forward slightly trying to figure out what was going on. It wasn't until she saw the crutches that she knew what was going on. When Trent spoke up again and asked her how it was going she smiled once again and gently strugged her shoulders. "Bit of an injustice if you ask me." She wasn't going to let the awkwardness of her friends encouner with Trent, make things weird for her. She let out a small giggle before looking down to Kyle.
When the small squeaks in the form of the words hi came from his mouth she beamed and waved overly entusastically. "Hello there." She looked to him and his eyes were settled on her as he stood in the entry of the carriage. She blinked a few times and tugged at her hair. "Do I....have something on my face?" She quickly started wiping at her face as the boys eyes stayed locked on her.
When the thestral snorted Awnen smiled. "Impatient little cuties aren't they?" She smiled and offered him a hand as he started step into the carriage. She didn't even notice the fact that he had turned red. It wasn't the norm for someone to blush because of Anwen after all. "Mind you? Why would I mind, I think I'd rather enjoy the company on the ride to the castle."
"Oh, I don't suppose we'd really carry it anyhow...We do have magic after all. But imagine, carrying our trunks he way muggles do." She shuttered to think trying to haul around her trunk full of clothes and books. Not only that but the cage for her owl Petey. It wasn't natural. "OH!" She said with too much excitment. "I"m Anwen Sawyer...Hufflepuff." She offered out her hand to the two of them.
-
Trent Innes
- 7th Year
- Player: kim
Trent didn't want an apology, least of all not from Winters. It was true that Trent didn't deserve this particular detention, but it wasn't like he hadn't already been breaking the rules when he had intervened in that fight on Winters' behalf. In any case, seeing the bully's humiliation and subsequent punishment was worth detention any day of the week, and he'd take this one as a win. Worried that Winters might be overly apologetic, Trent brightly yet firmly replied: "No problem, really." It wasn't long after that Winters became distracted by the sight of Anwen and the conversation ended. In a way, Trent was glad to be riding with Anwen, in the end.
As Winters hesitated on the steps to the carriage instead of climbing inside, Trent stepped forward to offer his assistance, but none was needed. Winters was merely dazed by Anwen, and Trent knew this reaction couldn't be from surprise; he had already announced that there was someone else in the cabin. So what was the issue? Assessing Winters' flushed face and stuttering words as a crush, Trent held back a smile as he waited patiently on the ground. When a loud snort from one of the thestrals finally broke Winters from his stupor, Trent climbed up after him.
While Winters got his crutches situated, Trent busied himself with securing the cabin for departure. Anwen wasn't exaggerating when she said the thestrals were impatient; at the sound of the door closing, they took off as though it had been a pistol signalling the start of a race. As the carriage unexpectedly lurched forward, Trent stumbled into the empty space that Winters had made for him, grateful that Winters (though he managed quite well with his crutches) had been safely seated by this point.
Steadying himself in his seat, Trent watched Anwen curiously, gauging her mood. "Do I have something on my face?" she asked, noticing his stare. "No, I'm just surprised to see you, I thought the carriage was empty," he replied. It was the half-truth: Trent had also been expecting a confrontation over his history with her friend, Lorin.
Trent had only gone out (and slept) with Lorin a few times, but it had ended with Lorin's broken heart. She was in fact, responsible for his (mostly) undeserved bad reputation, and Trent had already encountered a few of her angry friends. He was prepared for more or less of the same response from Anwen, but she didn't appear angry. Trent frowned slightly as she introduced herself to the both of them, but smiled and shook her offered hand. Maybe she didn't care - or didn't believe Lorin's version of the story. Feeling his body relax, but still prepared for any backlash that may come if his name sparks a recognition, Trent smiled and replied, "Trent Innes, Slytherin."
As Winters blathered on to Anwen, Trent looked back and forth between them, his smile quickly fading. It wasn't like Winters was failing miserably; Anwen seemed unfazed by his awkward behaviour. But with the way Winters looked as though he was about to die of embarrassment, Trent felt a surge of sympathy for the poor guy. Compelled to come to Winters' rescue and change the subject, Trent racked his brain for a common interest between the two. He found his answer quickly enough: Quidditch.
Trent personally did not follow Quidditch, and in fact, he was a poor flier (but that's a story for another day). He rarely went to school games on his own accord but had been to a few at the request of whatever girl he was dating at the time. He had, of course, recognized Winters as one of the players for Slytherin, and he knew Anwen also played: Lorin had always pointed out her friend to him, cheering whenever Anwen caught the game-winning snitch. Before Winters had a chance to bring up the weather or a similarly banal subject, Trent quickly prompted "So are you two excited for Quidditch starting back up?"
As Winters hesitated on the steps to the carriage instead of climbing inside, Trent stepped forward to offer his assistance, but none was needed. Winters was merely dazed by Anwen, and Trent knew this reaction couldn't be from surprise; he had already announced that there was someone else in the cabin. So what was the issue? Assessing Winters' flushed face and stuttering words as a crush, Trent held back a smile as he waited patiently on the ground. When a loud snort from one of the thestrals finally broke Winters from his stupor, Trent climbed up after him.
While Winters got his crutches situated, Trent busied himself with securing the cabin for departure. Anwen wasn't exaggerating when she said the thestrals were impatient; at the sound of the door closing, they took off as though it had been a pistol signalling the start of a race. As the carriage unexpectedly lurched forward, Trent stumbled into the empty space that Winters had made for him, grateful that Winters (though he managed quite well with his crutches) had been safely seated by this point.
Steadying himself in his seat, Trent watched Anwen curiously, gauging her mood. "Do I have something on my face?" she asked, noticing his stare. "No, I'm just surprised to see you, I thought the carriage was empty," he replied. It was the half-truth: Trent had also been expecting a confrontation over his history with her friend, Lorin.
Trent had only gone out (and slept) with Lorin a few times, but it had ended with Lorin's broken heart. She was in fact, responsible for his (mostly) undeserved bad reputation, and Trent had already encountered a few of her angry friends. He was prepared for more or less of the same response from Anwen, but she didn't appear angry. Trent frowned slightly as she introduced herself to the both of them, but smiled and shook her offered hand. Maybe she didn't care - or didn't believe Lorin's version of the story. Feeling his body relax, but still prepared for any backlash that may come if his name sparks a recognition, Trent smiled and replied, "Trent Innes, Slytherin."
As Winters blathered on to Anwen, Trent looked back and forth between them, his smile quickly fading. It wasn't like Winters was failing miserably; Anwen seemed unfazed by his awkward behaviour. But with the way Winters looked as though he was about to die of embarrassment, Trent felt a surge of sympathy for the poor guy. Compelled to come to Winters' rescue and change the subject, Trent racked his brain for a common interest between the two. He found his answer quickly enough: Quidditch.
Trent personally did not follow Quidditch, and in fact, he was a poor flier (but that's a story for another day). He rarely went to school games on his own accord but had been to a few at the request of whatever girl he was dating at the time. He had, of course, recognized Winters as one of the players for Slytherin, and he knew Anwen also played: Lorin had always pointed out her friend to him, cheering whenever Anwen caught the game-winning snitch. Before Winters had a chance to bring up the weather or a similarly banal subject, Trent quickly prompted "So are you two excited for Quidditch starting back up?"
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Kyle Winters
- 7th Year | Chaser
- Player: Jae
Anwen’s question about whether there was something on her face went completely over Kyle’s head, so deep in his daze he was that he totally didn’t register it at all. After the thestral’s snort brought him back to his senses, he realised that she had probably asked him something. Having no clue at all as to what the question was, he could only guess based on the context that she was asking why he was staring at her. “Er… n–nothing,” he said, not knowing whether that was the correct answer.
Anwen then smiled and remarked on how impatient the “little cuties” were. To Kyle, “thestrals” and “little cuties” did not belong in the same sentence (unless a “not” was involved somewhere). The fact that she would – and could – speak of these creatures so affectionately hinted that she likely had a much healthier understanding of mortality than he had. “I – I suppose…” The hesitation in his voice was fairly obvious, and he really couldn’t help but let slip his dislike of thestrals and what they meant to him. After all, the circumstances that led to him being able to see thestrals were traumatising to say the very least. And perhaps more than anyone else, he wished that he would someday be fine with those creatures, and be able to look at them in the eye without feeling the flood of anger and grief and frustration and helplessness welling up in him.
Just as Kyle started to step into the carriage, Anwen offered to lend him a hand. “It’s okay, I can manage,” he said as he returned the smile, hoping that she wouldn’t take his refusal the wrong way. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to manage if he accepted her hand: he was holding both of his crutches in the hand closer to Anwen, while his other hand was already grabbing on to the carriage for support. It would take a while for him to move his crutches over to his other hand things around, and neither time nor the thestral was on his side right now.
Settling into his seat, he flashed his lopsided smile and nodded his thanks as Anwen said that she didn’t mind sharing a carriage with him. Most other folks he had shared a carriage with were alright with him, but there was rarely any warmth in their interactions, if any, beyond the baseline level of courtesy one would afford to a stranger. He knew that people generally thought of him as ‘nice’, but that adjective was so inoffensive and plain and generic that they might as well have been describing a cardboard standee. Heartened by Anwen’s friendliness, he relaxed a little… and then – in the words of Frank Sinatra – he had to go and spoil it all by saying something stupid. Right after he babbled about not needing to carry their luggage with them, he regretted his words. Why the heck did he suddenly talk about something so downright bizarre?
To his amazement, Anwen actually took the topic seriously and stated that they could simply use magic. Of course they could, but over the holidays Kyle had been so cautious about using magic in public – or more specifically, in front of Muggles – that it slipped his mind that there were no Muggles here. “How daft of me,” he said as he shook his head sheepishly. “It gets confusing when you’re a Muggle-born and you can’t freely use magic all the time…” He let his voice trail off, unsure of how to wrap up that sentence neatly. Technically nobody could use magic openly in front of Muggles, so it wasn’t a problem exclusive to Muggle-born wizards and witches. But it was something that he really struggled with, and he’d often instinctively revert to the Muggle way of doing things before remembering that there was a spell for the occasion. That attempt at justifying his weird remark earlier suddenly felt really lame, and inwardly he kicked himself and resolved to think things through before opening his mouth.
When Anwen introduced herself, he let Trent go next. As he shook Anwen’s offered hand, there was a slight pause while he mentally rehearsed his line one last time; it would be terribly embarrassing if he got his own name wrong. “Kyle Winters, Slytherin,” he said finally. Chuffing hell, why was he so high strung and anxious today? Against his better judgement he started to ramble yet again. “Maybe it’s been a long day or summat but I’m such a bag of nerves today.” Indeed, it had been a rough day for him. He had woken up at an unholy hour just to catch the first bus to the train station, and then the first train to London. Because he had to lug his trunk Muggle-style, he had worn his prosthesis even though his stump was aching. Only after he boarded the Hogwarts Express could he finally take off his prosthesis and get some respite.
And then there was that run-in at the Hogsmeade platform. Ugh… Why did he have to remind himself of that twerp? He shook his head, as though the motion could help expel that unwanted thought from his mind.
Kyle’s mood immediately improved upon hearing Trent say “quidditch”. His eyes shone brightly as he nodded furiously. “I just can’t wait to be back on the pitch again.” It was most likely a sentiment shared by all Quidditch players; why else would anyone play Quidditch if they didn’t love it? “Being able to fly around in the open sky and the sense of freedom that it brings, the exhilaration of being part of something so much larger than yourself… I can’t really describe it but it feels fantastic.” Already he was beginning to imagine what it was like to fly again, high above the ground, the wind tugging at him and howling in his ears, and with nothing save an enchanted broomstick to keep him aloft.
“It’s also great to see the stands full of supporters,” Kyle added. “I think what makes it more heartwarming is the fact that not everyone is a Quidditch fan, and some of them are there solely to cheer their friends on.” And then he stopped abruptly as he momentarily recalled how his old habit of scanning the stands before and after each match for a familiar face on the stands during his first two years at Hogwarts. Just as quickly he composed himself, hoping that Trent and Anwen wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
Anwen then smiled and remarked on how impatient the “little cuties” were. To Kyle, “thestrals” and “little cuties” did not belong in the same sentence (unless a “not” was involved somewhere). The fact that she would – and could – speak of these creatures so affectionately hinted that she likely had a much healthier understanding of mortality than he had. “I – I suppose…” The hesitation in his voice was fairly obvious, and he really couldn’t help but let slip his dislike of thestrals and what they meant to him. After all, the circumstances that led to him being able to see thestrals were traumatising to say the very least. And perhaps more than anyone else, he wished that he would someday be fine with those creatures, and be able to look at them in the eye without feeling the flood of anger and grief and frustration and helplessness welling up in him.
Just as Kyle started to step into the carriage, Anwen offered to lend him a hand. “It’s okay, I can manage,” he said as he returned the smile, hoping that she wouldn’t take his refusal the wrong way. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to manage if he accepted her hand: he was holding both of his crutches in the hand closer to Anwen, while his other hand was already grabbing on to the carriage for support. It would take a while for him to move his crutches over to his other hand things around, and neither time nor the thestral was on his side right now.
Settling into his seat, he flashed his lopsided smile and nodded his thanks as Anwen said that she didn’t mind sharing a carriage with him. Most other folks he had shared a carriage with were alright with him, but there was rarely any warmth in their interactions, if any, beyond the baseline level of courtesy one would afford to a stranger. He knew that people generally thought of him as ‘nice’, but that adjective was so inoffensive and plain and generic that they might as well have been describing a cardboard standee. Heartened by Anwen’s friendliness, he relaxed a little… and then – in the words of Frank Sinatra – he had to go and spoil it all by saying something stupid. Right after he babbled about not needing to carry their luggage with them, he regretted his words. Why the heck did he suddenly talk about something so downright bizarre?
To his amazement, Anwen actually took the topic seriously and stated that they could simply use magic. Of course they could, but over the holidays Kyle had been so cautious about using magic in public – or more specifically, in front of Muggles – that it slipped his mind that there were no Muggles here. “How daft of me,” he said as he shook his head sheepishly. “It gets confusing when you’re a Muggle-born and you can’t freely use magic all the time…” He let his voice trail off, unsure of how to wrap up that sentence neatly. Technically nobody could use magic openly in front of Muggles, so it wasn’t a problem exclusive to Muggle-born wizards and witches. But it was something that he really struggled with, and he’d often instinctively revert to the Muggle way of doing things before remembering that there was a spell for the occasion. That attempt at justifying his weird remark earlier suddenly felt really lame, and inwardly he kicked himself and resolved to think things through before opening his mouth.
When Anwen introduced herself, he let Trent go next. As he shook Anwen’s offered hand, there was a slight pause while he mentally rehearsed his line one last time; it would be terribly embarrassing if he got his own name wrong. “Kyle Winters, Slytherin,” he said finally. Chuffing hell, why was he so high strung and anxious today? Against his better judgement he started to ramble yet again. “Maybe it’s been a long day or summat but I’m such a bag of nerves today.” Indeed, it had been a rough day for him. He had woken up at an unholy hour just to catch the first bus to the train station, and then the first train to London. Because he had to lug his trunk Muggle-style, he had worn his prosthesis even though his stump was aching. Only after he boarded the Hogwarts Express could he finally take off his prosthesis and get some respite.
And then there was that run-in at the Hogsmeade platform. Ugh… Why did he have to remind himself of that twerp? He shook his head, as though the motion could help expel that unwanted thought from his mind.
Kyle’s mood immediately improved upon hearing Trent say “quidditch”. His eyes shone brightly as he nodded furiously. “I just can’t wait to be back on the pitch again.” It was most likely a sentiment shared by all Quidditch players; why else would anyone play Quidditch if they didn’t love it? “Being able to fly around in the open sky and the sense of freedom that it brings, the exhilaration of being part of something so much larger than yourself… I can’t really describe it but it feels fantastic.” Already he was beginning to imagine what it was like to fly again, high above the ground, the wind tugging at him and howling in his ears, and with nothing save an enchanted broomstick to keep him aloft.
“It’s also great to see the stands full of supporters,” Kyle added. “I think what makes it more heartwarming is the fact that not everyone is a Quidditch fan, and some of them are there solely to cheer their friends on.” And then he stopped abruptly as he momentarily recalled how his old habit of scanning the stands before and after each match for a familiar face on the stands during his first two years at Hogwarts. Just as quickly he composed himself, hoping that Trent and Anwen wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
happiness is only a word, just an empty dream that everyone wants
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