Ground Floor Corridor

[Pale Mist]

phinelia von ichval



second year - ravenclaw
hermes
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“In the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.”
– Desiderius Erasmus
“The haft of the arrow had been feathered with one of the eagle’s own plumes. We often give our enemies the means of our own destruction.”
– Aesop
“There is only one good, knowledge, and one evil, ignorance.”
– Socrates
“If the brain were so simple we could understand it, we would be so simple we couldn’t.”
– Lyall Watson

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Many times such a situation as had now grown to consuming proportions between them would be called a 'moment of truth'. One in which the books always showed words perfectly spelling out and curing problems and errors and emotion injuries. Characters suddenly became flawlessly knowledgeable in themselves and the root of their more instinctive feelings and logics - the hardest of all topics. Text lied and had cooed the thought that if one was presented with such a position as Phinelia now found herself - almost collapsing in the emotion burden and the fear that she would ruin everything and find herself again alone - everything, ever word, would come naturally. Like the lyrics of the most melodious song that rang with messages of innermost truths.
However, not a word slipped from Phi's lips and she again, simply wanted to crumble into a pile of dust. To be blow out by the howling wind to have no eyes set on her with their drilling expectations. Jane's own worried glance and expectant ears made tears rip at the edge of the Ravenclaw's vision. The moisture not yet present in her eyes, however.
The mind she treasured above all other things suddenly seemed a dull tool. Not fit for the most basic use. Before finding and confronting Jane, she had at least a stored vague idea of what to say. As well at the most detailed feelings about what was wrong and how she felt and how she thought Jane might, but suddenly the very phrase "whats wrong" did not sound comprehensible.
Phi had never felt true terror before and it felt like she was drowning at an agonizing rate when in reality, all the thoughts and worries and fear and danger had yet to last the span of a full second.

It seemed the very thought of what she might cause by her social blunders and her vocal inability was what she was most petrified by. The prospect of returning to a lonesome state was nightmarish. The idea of being alone with no one at her side, not even momentarily, made tears finally appear in her dark eyes. It seemed so many years ago that she would sit alone, with no reproach for her lack of company, and read. Barely even notice the souls that could have been potential friends.
It seemed to long when it had only been over a year. She no longer enjoyed permanent solitude. She spoke. And she had changed.

The imagined mistakes she could make reminded her of why she never spoke. She was too afraid of words. Their potential power.
"I... am I..."
the tiny voice that had finally been able to escape her clamping throat was lost against the loud tones of the two approaching boys. Ronyo was descending down the stairs and Colton was just entering from the grounds.
Phi was not sure whether it was utter relief she felt for their presence or the hottest of rage for their interruption and disregard for her inner battle.
However, she recovered. She seized the opportunity and worked with what she did well - avoidance. Silence.
She blinked whatever tears and emotions still lingered in her eyes and nodded to the two year mates. Not looking any of the trio in the eye and instead taking the highest interest in the lace of her shoe.
Ronyo handed instructions and Phi gave the obligatory nod of enthusiasm for the news that he had found a suit to serve them. Her emotions all seemed lost for now, soaked by the cold ground which her eyes traced, and she would celebrate the truly celebratory news later once she completely understood the words that still sounded foreign.
Looking up just slightly when she and Jane were giving jobs, she felt the unspoken social queue to speak.
"Ill see if I can ask the portraits or the ghosts." she knew their ancient knowledge was more accurate than any book could have within it written.Nodding once more, neck feeling sore form the repeated action now, to show she would also think of a possible way to communicate, she turned lightly on her heel.
"Breakfast." she said lightly and was already walking away from the trio before the word was even completely gone from her tongue.

{ooc: feel free to have your characters talk about phi even with her leaving. Am curious as to what is one their minds~}

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[Porcelaine Ivory]

яεġrετ┃ηστнιηġ ♦ ғεαя┃ησ σηε ♦ ταkε prιdε ιη┃εvεяyτнιηġ

"That's fantastic!" Granted that his spirits were high as a result of the recent flying he had done, Colton was excited to hear that Ronyo had managed to find a suit of armor who was willing to help out their group's cause, likely for the well being of the school it served. The boy's thick eyebrows furrowed when his friend mentioned a possible eavesdropper on the sixth floor, and his mind raced over the likely culprits before being sucked back into the conversation in time to hear Ronyo's assignments. When he asked Phi and Jane to seek out a possible hide out, his eyes zoomed in on the red head's, suddenly shaken to realize the undiluted emotion that ran through them. He had never seen Phinelia show much other than excitement, usually as they walked into the Herbology greenhouse; it was such a rare happening that Colton found it difficult to decipher what the girl was feeling. Despite his confusion, he knew one thing for sure - she wasn't happy. Whether it was sadness, anger, or a flood of indifference, Colt couldn't tell.

Straightening his back when he realized how much his body had relaxed during his short trance, the Gryffindor scrambled for words, but he found them too late. "Phinelia, ar -" His serious tone was quickly interrupted by the fiery Ravenclaw. She seemed rushed in speech as she agreed to the task she had been assigned before sweeping off down the main corridor. His body slowly defrosting from his friend's odd behavior, Colton looked over at Ronyo to see whether or not he had been the only one to capture the uneasy vibes that had been radiating outward from the petite girl. After several seconds of making mental notes to seek out the source of Phi's troubles, Colt nodded abruptly as if acknowledging their current objectives. "Right. So what do you have in mind for our means of communication?" He inquired, his gray eyes pale and cold as they bore into the floor beneath his shoes, his hands resting stiffly atop the nose of his broom.

 

[Maiya Kajuji]

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Jane wanted to punch the stone wall. What was with this girl? Was to really this difficult to talk to people? She huffed and put on a fake, courtesy smile as the boys joined them. It was honestly a bit strange how quickly Jane could change her attitude. Just a few moments ago she had felt like crying now she wanted to punch something.

Jane followed Phi without another word pulling her wither book close to her. She was no longer sure what she was feeling but what ever it was she didn't like it. She wanted to run away, all she really wanted to do right now was take her broom and fly as far away as she could, she wanted to get away from everything. Life was hard here and Jane wasn't sure she much liked it.

Jane wanted to say something. To break the silence and talk, but nothing seemed right. Nothing right now seemed right. She wished so desperately to leave, to just do anything but this. She was so confused and that was not normal for Jane. She usually wasn't like this but something about being her with Phinelia when she was like this. They needed to discuss this and work whatever was wrong out but she felt she needed to be like Phi and remain trapped and silent in her own mind but it was so hard especially when he mind was clouded with nothing but nightmares. Jane again wanted to break down and cry.

ooc; outfit in side pic, music in top.
MADE BY PURPLEINATOR

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[Ronyo Storm]

Grand Staircase/ Main Floor

Ronyo Storm - Slytherin
second Year

If the emotional turmoil had been any thicker in the air Ronyo would have needed a sword to cut it. Seeing the reaction and then the lack of one from a majority of the group had the Slytherin wondering what on earth was going on inside the heads of his friends. He had expected a bit of enthusiasm at the announcement that they had found one of the key parts of their plan but it was almost like Ronyo had told them what he had had for breakfast instead.

Ronyo saw what he could only describe as a battle waging inside those orbs belonging to his Ravenclaw friend. Something was terribly not right as Ronyo not only could see it but feel it as well. Once again his sixth sense seemed to be giving him a feeling and sensation that was hard to truly describe or understand. All he could truly make out was that there was trouble but not physically this time around, it was all mental...or maybe even deeper than that. Ronyo was almost inclined to retracked his assignments in favor of having a time to figure out what was on the red heads mind, but seeing her so quickly take to wishing to move away he caught the hint well enough.

He had been right initially to pair Phi and Jane together for Jane showed odd signs that had Ronyo known the girl better might have given more information. There was almost a barrier between the Badger and Eagle which was an odd thing to begin with given that most of the time the two spoke highly of the other. Whatever was going on it could only be settled between the two, but that would not stop Ronyo from asking at an opportune time about the situation. If they were to try and combat the dastardly and conniving tricks and pursuits of the less than savory members of Hogwarts they would need to be strong in their ranks, both inside and out. Ronyo would have to keep extra care to watch Phi and Jane or else some of their likely foes would take advantage of the situation.

Turning to Colton who the white haired boy could see also caught a hint of the problem, Ronyo nodded slightly showing his understanding as well. As the girls left the boys Ronyo took a moment longer to think while Colton asked the more on topic question, but it was also likely laced with the question 'what was that about?'

"I think it best to speak with one of the ghosts, it seems Phi had a similar thought process. There are only two things in this castle that move and send information without boundaries or with limited one. The ghost and the paintings. The paintings are so mixed in thoughts and ideas that I think it would be more problematic to have them help us. I was hoping we could find a few ghost who would be willing to help out and sends messages between us. Nearly Headless Nick is my first thought, possibly the horsemen, and maybe some of the lesser known specters. Nick seems to be capable of speaking with the congregation easy enough so I was hoping you might be able to track him down being he was your house ghost," before Colton could likely bring up the subject Ronyo held up a hand, " As for Phi we will have to let her deal with her problems for now. I think she needs the time without us always popping up to help her in some way. The girl is strong and she can handle whatever issue is eating at her, but we would not be friends if we did not ask when the time was right."  

[Essy ze Ninja]

Slip out the back before they know you were there

and at the worst you'll see nobody cares,

you don't want to be around when it all goes down...

William Dante Nott the Third


He nodded his thanks, and stood with weary eyes as he sought to watch the professor glide on her heel and disappear behind the great double doors with a firm sigh. His destination was not the Common Room, it’s true, but it certainly aided his worries knowing he needn’t search for another Slytherin to find a way in, or worse, wait for the prefect. He was in no mood for foul play today, and as it was, the demon lurched beneath was just dying for the next perfect surprise.

But, he moved swiftly. Gliding away from the Antechamber and slithering onto the ground floor of the Hogwarts castle, his rippling shadow followed him on every three sides, whispering and contorting like a dance in the night. As it is, or, as it was, Tay had a promise to keep, one that he had held dearly until the perfect moment had raised its course. He meandered towards the foyer, and it was where he would stand until the doors split apart at the seams and children poured for every direction. There was only one he was anxious to see. With all of the fuss and commotion of turmoil within his house, he hadn’t even been able to catch notice of what house she had been sorted into, or, if she was even there.

It was a long shot, he realized, a forlorn gut wrenching realization splintered, and, he felt the late effects of a bruise beginning to mingle on his features upon his brow. The last time he, or she, had ever spoken of this night had been at least five years ago, or more, but the memory was as persistent as his dreams. He held a different relationship with this girl than any other, one of greedy possession and childish obsession. He was overbearing, albeit, in his own ways, over protective and jealous. He was sure he would have to keep her safe, away from the harm of his enemies, or worse, his friends.

╔══════════════╗
Location: Ground Floor- Grand Foyer
Injuries:
Mood: Tense
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Roi Antiguo

..even heroes know when to be scared.

 

[Jacqueline Day]

The feast passed, for Catherine, rather quietly, which seemed a stark contrast to the events immediately preceding it. With all the commotion, the train, the herding, the sorting, to be left in silence during the feast was a welcome relief, albeit a rather brief reprieve. She needed the time, to quiet her nerves, though it could never be quite enough. Her shoulders remained tense, her stomach in knots and no matter the amount of effort she put into forcing herself to think clearly, to come up with an explanation for the questions she would inevitably be expected to answer. While other students continued conversations or dug in to the food in front of them, Catherine merely picked at her portion. She wasn’t sure how she had expected the sorting to turn out, so she was incapable of understand how she felt it had gone wrong. She couldn’t afford to push it from her mind, knowing she would certainly be confronted by the situation, again, the next morning. Thus the only option was to try and fight away the knots in her stomach that seemed to only be growing and multiplying as the night went on.

As the students began exiting the Great Hall, following the Prefect, she joined in. Eyes open, she tried to take in everything around her, while maintaing the graceful stride and the emotional mask of indifference that had been drilled into her from a time she could no longer remember. The entire place, what little she’d seen of it, mirrored everything she’d read in her brother’s old school books. As she recalled the moving pictures and the words in those pages describing everything she was seeing, she began to take control of her own feelings and thoughts. The nervousness slowly began to dissipate, though, for Catherine, it never truly disappeared. The tightness in her shoulders loosened as she took her first few steps out into the corridor.

It was her acute sense of observation that lead the young girl to notice something that seemed out of place in the hallway, something she might not have seen, but something she should have realized she would meet with. This unexpected something caused her to stop dead in her tracks. For as students passed by in groups large and small, the student standing alone in the foyer soon became the only face she saw. In all her anxiety over the sorting, she had almost forgotten about the boy who’s school she now attended. She’d almost forgotten that she did, in fact, have someone she knew at Hogwarts, someone who understood her in a way she would never have revealed to others. Someone who’s secrets she shared and with whom, for short spells of time, she might be able to drop her guard.

“Tay?” Catherine questioned quietly, her tone taking on a strange mixture of relief and disbelief. "It’s you." She felt the words tight in her throat. Shock, though unfounded as she should have realized she would see him at some point, played very clearly across her features, an unexpected break her usually practiced mask of indifference. But, then again, she was rarely ever able to hide her thoughts from this childhood friend. And, though she might not have realized it at the moment, the relief of seeing a familiar face in this unfamiliar place was welcomed, even if she wasn't certain how this particular encounter would play out.

First Year Ravenclaw

 

[The Ariadelle]

Rhea Ventura
1st year Slytherin

Rhea walked out into the hall, following the Prefect, as well as turning to converse with the mystery girl who was walking with her. "So anyways, I still don't know your name. I know you have to have one, everyone has a name." She shook her head at the own silliness of a person with no name in her classes. "And I guess I'd like to at least know what to call you, or to right on notes, you know?" She stopped for a moment, to show the girl that she didn't want to look like she wasn't paying attention, though she still looked over at the line of students that they were following. "I'd like to be your friend, because I don't really know anyone here," she nearly whispered. "My mum didn't want me to go to all of the other Pureblood parties and galas and what not, she'd rather had me learn to be prouder of myself and stronger for my time here." Rhea let out some air, trying to gain her normal confidence back and reignite her energy, proving successful from her attempt. "So if you'll allow such a notion, being as I'm the only other first year girl in house, I think it makes perfect sense that we become friends." She then smiled with the most honest and warm smile she could muster. "If you want, we can discuss it more as we catch back up with the group."  

[Acel]

Evangeline Gordon
First Year Slytherin

Evangeline was astounded. This girl was actually stopping in the middle of the hallway to continue their one-sided conversation? What if they lost the group? She paused also (it was only polite) and kept glancing toward the Slytherin line. With some relief, she noticed Rhea watching them also--so she wasn't a total flutterbrain, that was something. She managed to glean the fact that she was a Pureblood from her babble...that was something, too, though Evie couldn't imagine her family keeping her from other Pureblood families.

She was beginning to learn how to handle this girl. She didn't even try to say anything until the deluge stopped, then she pounced on the opportunity before anything could interrupt it. "You don't know my name because this is the first time I've managed to get a word in edgewise," she offered dryly. "Evangeline Gordon. Pleased to meet you. Mind if we walk and talk?" She gestured toward the briskly moving line of Slytherins and started moving again, herself.

"As for being friends...well, we're housemates, so we'll have the same classes, and we'll share a dorm. I'm sure we'll get to know each other. Isn't that where friendship comes from?" Evangeline wasn't sure if she could see herself being friends with the exuberant Rhea or not. She seemed...exhausting. But as Rhea so astutely pointed out, it wasn't like there were myriad options. And maybe she would settle down once she got into the routine of classes....  

[The Ariadelle]

Rhea Ventura
1st year Slytherin

Rhea quickened her step to catch back up. "I suppose that is where friendship comes from," she said more to herself than Evangeline, though she was sure the girl also heard her. Normally she'd just jump back in the conversation, but her new friend seemed a bit aggravated with Rhea talking as much as she normally did.

So after a short walk, already catching back up to the line of snakes, she finally decided to talk again. "I'm sorry for dominating our talk, I tend to get carried away and forget to let others actually reply," she blushed. "I'll work on it. If you'd like, I'd love to know more about you, since as you said we'll be spending a lot of time around one another for the next 7 years and I'll rather be on your good side than to be the target of any Slytherin spite," she chuckled, hoping none of the other classmen held a grudge to her for her boisterous nature yet.  

[Essy ze Ninja]

Slip out the back before they know you were there

and at the worst you'll see nobody cares,

you don't want to be around when it all goes down...

William Dante Nott the Third


That smile, one of poisonous conviction and titillating turmoil crept upon those whitewashed features, outshone only by the brilliance of fire the gleamed within his eyes of perilous gold, and, held himself with that iconic stance of chivalry and pride, one the breathed fire into his ego, and held his pure of blood elitist status above all else; there was no doubt of his lineage. William Dante Nott the Third had been bred from a long line of pureblood Slytherin’s, each as dominatingly aggressive as the last, spanning as far back as the medieval era of knights and monarchy. His name was renowned; the Nott’s were famous along the pureblood elitists even honoring the title of Duke of Wales. The gray English Bullmastiff adorned his every detail upon his Slytherin robes, the stark banner and sigil of the house of Nott. His gaze peered just over the head of young Catherine Deluge to eye the up-and-coming students of the Slytherin house wandering towards the common room, just moments, before he stole Catherine’s hand in his own and, like he had done so many times before, spun her on her toes around simply, like only a prince charming would do. ”Fritzie,” Tay nodded approvingly as she spun, a smirk brimming on his lips from the use of the nickname he had given her so long ago due to her, far too calm demeanor. ”Nice to see your still looking lovely,

“Never pegged you much for Ravenclaw,” he noted with eyes alit with curiosity and possibilities. ”I take it no one troubled you during the feast?” He inquired, as he had had, many times before, that possessive and jealous nature quickly reestablishing itself even after all of this time.

..even heroes know when to be scared.

 

[Jacqueline Day]

The smile that grew on the boy’s face in front of her might unnerve anyone looking, still, to Catherine, it held a familiarity that, while certainly not gentle and reassuring, reminded her that she was part of his world, the pureblood world to which they’d both been born. His stance proved him to be just that, a true pureblood, a true Slytherin. With his incredible pride, one could never doubt his impressive lineage. She wondered if those of her new “house”, the scrawny mix of mudbloods and muggle-borns, knew anything of what it meant to be a pureblood, the years of history and honor they were born to by right of birth. No, they couldn’t possibly understand.

As his hand met hers, leading her in an elaborate spin, one of their time-honored traditions, she allowed a small smile to creep through. At his mention of her nickname, the realization that, she still was the same girl he had always known, sunk in. The truth was, though she would not like to admit it, her nerves, until that moment, were on edge. At his complement, she inclined her head in polite nod of gratitude, ”You look well yourself, Ace”, she countered with his own nickname due to the idea that he always seemed to have an ace up his sleeve, something to turn the tables back under his control and the ability to surprise anyone at any stage of the game. As she used the old nickname, a small teasing smile reached her face.

Suddenly, there it was, “Never pegged you much for Ravenclaw", he'd said.

At the mention of her current house. The smile fell away as, the worry crept into her again, making her want to clutch at her stomach. Of course, this was a temptation she avoided, but compromised by clasping one hand over the other wrist. She acknowledged the truth in his words, but she supposed she was, in fact, not worthy of the great house of Slytherin and that fact was what caused her to be sorted elsewhere. She could not, in that moment, see any of the merits to her new house. ”Father won’t be pleased”, she said simply, knowing he understood the implications of that sentence. Her father had always been stern with her. He had never physically hurt her, he was much to proud for that, but his coldly calculating words were enough to damage.

”No,” she responded to his last inquiry, ”I’m not interested in them”. She emphasized the last word and thus, emphasized the difference in the status of her housemates and herself, a fact she was certain Tay was aware of. She could not, in all honesty, say that she would have had any more interest in mingling with them if they had been Slytherins, that had not been her way, but at least then she would not feel as unworthy. She wondered if any of these thoughts were apparent to him. ”What should I do?” She had no better words to describe how she felt. Should she confront the sorting hat? The headmaster? Should she simply let it be? She hoped he would have some answer for her. Maybe, just maybe, she could find a purpose for being stuck as a Ravenclaw.

It was only because of her friendship with him, and her admiration for the young man, that she could bring herself to ask this question. She was normally not one to ask advice, however, these were special circumstances and he was, after all, the only other person she felt a kinship with.

First Year Ravenclaw

 

[Essy ze Ninja]

Slip out the back before they know you were there

and at the worst you'll see nobody cares,

you don't want to be around when it all goes down...

William Dante Nott the Third


Prestige and power clung perilously to his bones infused within the very flesh and meat that held it all together, seamless ribbons of scarlet to lace the fabric. The young heir had always held a ruthless silence, one very akin to the silence of his corrupted uncle. His smirk befit the smirk of any boy seemingly triumphant of another little brawl, he, of course, always saw himself as the victor, and had always recounted the story as such, despite the bare breath of truth in the fall of falsehood, which had, many a times, fallen on the very ears of the young first year before him. Their history was a long one.

”Ravenclaw is an honorable house, only brilliant minds can be found there.” Tay’s strong adamant British tongue deftly cut the silence the instance it began, hard as stone, though weathered down along the years. ”You’ll see.” He concluded, and that was it, and though difficult to decipher, the comfort was there, dictated, and defiant. There was no room for objection.

It was during this next linger of momentary silence that he struck forward out of the shadows, a limb coiling around the Ravenclaw with a venomous vice grip, snaking her close to him as they perused down the corridor towards the grand staircase. ”So?” He objected, after hearing her taste of disdain sprawling open upon an empty canvas for him to inspect. ”You’ll do what every little girl does, you’ll make friends, and you’ll look normal…

“You don’t want your father to hear how unsocial his little princess is from one of the professor’s, do you?” He shook his head; he didn’t need to hear the agreement just as well as she hadn’t wanted to agree to it. ”Besides, the sorting hat is never wrong.” He chimed callously; an arrogant wave of his hand admonished the severity, yet reckless truth behind his words. Though it was never a wonder how often he doubted the hat and its questionable decisions, however, he wouldn’t let his doubts shine in the presence of such a special companion.

”I’ve quite a few Ravenclaw mates myself Fritzie, and I seem to find their lot much more agreeable than my own. Slytherin’s… you can never let your guard down around the lot. Got quite a few enemies there as well….” It was clear by now he was rambling, he only found comfort to speak the oddities of his mind around her, and, was always keen to indulge in this rare occurrence. Despite the familiarity of his touch, and the smooth flow of his British tongue, there was something amiss, though it could not be placed. A certain kind of difference the crept under the skin until the hair stood on end, a difference that boiled in the bellies and swelled the heart with fire, but why, of for what purpose would be a mystery to her.

He didn’t want to bring him into this war that Roi had concocted.

And he certainly didn’t want to bring her down with him.

..even heroes know when to be scared.

 

[Jacqueline Day]

There was truth in his words, though Catherine was not keen on believing them. In her mind, she countered the boy’s point. Ravenclaw may be an honorable house, she thought, but that won’t do well for an explanation to Father. In truth, it did not matter, she knew better than trying to explain herself, it only got her in deeper trouble. As such, she chose not to make her point aloud to the boy, and would certainly not use his words in explanation for her Father. Her family cared little for intellect when lacking the company of ambition and honor. Still, she could not deny the truths the boy spoke and for some reason, perhaps knowing there were merits to be found in her house, she was slightly comforted. Even though he left no room for an objection, she could not say she would have had one if there was. She knew that, at least with a Nott to explain her failures away, though certainly not entirely, she could face the displeased words of her Father.

His possessive arm took hold of her, effectively snapping her out of the hypothetical conversation she was having with her disappointed father.

She could not be certain whether the boy had posed a veiled threat or whether he was offering simple advice, but she had no mind to defy him. Threat or not, his words, once again held true, though, she had to admit, he was very practiced in the art of lying. Still, having her father hear that she was not, in fact, a perfectly manipulative, well-liked, social butterfly, or at least, having him hear that she was not the epitome of polite, would simply not due. He would not tolerate it. Thankfully, Tay did not add salt to the wound by having her acknowledge aloud the wisdom of his advice.

At his mention of the infallibility of the sorting had, Catherine was taken aback. She had not meant to question the sorting hat’s ability, or, perhaps I did? she thought. Avoiding predicaments like these was exactly why she had learned to keep her mouth shut. She always seemed to talk her way into a situation, but lacked the tact to talk her way out once cornered. She almost opened her mouth to explain, but, she remembered quickly, explanations wasted time and breathe. It was only promises of better performance in the future that would be acceptable. Again, she chose to keep silent, her mind was running too quickly and her words, as always, would not do her thoughts justice.

She was surprised, however, to find that the Slytehrin boy, adorned wih his well-recognized bullmastiff family crest, would stoop to acquaint himself with Ravenclaws. But, could it be considered stooping if he had done it? Certainly not. Maybe though, due to his impressive lineage, he could afford it. She supposed she would simply have to observe and learn. This, she could succeed at. It crossed her mind that her quick-wit may just be exactly what had landed her in Ravenclaw, but she did not have time to wonder as he continued to speak. She did not want to miss a thing her childhood friend had to say. So far, at least, he had proved himself tactful. Even if they hadn’t shared a long history, she liked to think she would take note of these qualities he possessed. He was, after all, “Ace” for a reason.

Perhaps, she realized at his confirmation, she might not have to be as guarded around these Ravenclaws and she would Slytherins, but she was practiced at being guarded, and she certainly understood she could trust no one right out of the gate. She understood he had begun to talk more about his problems than her own, but this did not bother her. She allowed him to take the lead. It was familiar, and what was familiar was safe. Yet, as he spoke, she realized something did not feel quite right. Something felt very strange, very foreign, but she could not pick up on just what that sensation meant, nor could she place her finger on its origin. Perhaps it was the new environment, but she was not entirely inclined to believe it.

”Enemies?” she questioned in an effort to keep him speaking. ”In Slytherin? she urged. And friends in Ravenclaw? she wanted to add, but knew better.

Maybe, if she kept him speaking, she might be able to figure out just what was wrong, or simply put this sensation of strangeness to rest. Either way, hearing him speak had, so far, been the only welcomed think in this place, thus far.

First Year Ravenclaw

 

[Essy ze Ninja]

Slip out the back before they know you were there

and at the worst you'll see nobody cares,

you don't want to be around when it all goes down...

William Dante Nott the Third


”Enemies.” He agreed, the lull of his tongue cut deft and swift and sure, even as they traversed across the threshold of the castle ground floors amidst the thin crowd of early departers, nearly all Ravenclaw, though he never understood why. His precarious steps were silent, and obsequious, his demeanor a mere shadow on the wall or the ghoul in the dark, just waiting.

”And they’re everywhere.” He continued calmly, casually, as though the topic brought forth only distant memories, and not turmoil underneath the wake. ”Slytherin. Gryffindor. Hufflepuff…. Ravenclaw,” Tay paused with purpose, his gaze veering under the shadow of his brow to eye her deliberately. ”I’m sure you’ll come to meet them all soon enough.” The iron fist had fallen, and only desolation would be left to tell the tale. Anomalies arose, he supposed, as he had never once spoken about any of the students he attended Hogwarts with. None; professor’s and exams, lessons and homework, he breezed through it all at least once before, but only one student’s name ever left the lips of his mouth, a personal vendetta held him to it. He had often spoken of a book, a family heirloom, depicting the entire history and lineage of the Nott family. He and Catherine had often danced between the pages, eager to learn what there was to be had. He also told her of the incident that led to the very book falling into the very wrong hands. ”You remember the one I told you about, Fritzie; the one who stole my book?” He began slowly, this memory always left a bitter taste in his tongue, the one time he had ever been one-upped and he didn’t have the upper hand. It was the only time he had felt like a disappointment to the nickname given to him.

”She’s in Ravenclaw.”

”Let’s get on the staircase, shall we? It’d do no good for you to get lost on your first day on my account; I’ll help you find your way to the Ravenclaw Tower.”

..even heroes know when to be scared.