Shadows That Move
September 10, 2025
Late at night
Content warning: Trauma-based mental health issues
Silas woke up with a start, drenched in sweat, his heart racing. Before he even realised it, he was moving, sliding out of his bed. His breath came in shallow pants, his eyes a little too wide as he searched for some shoes and a sweatshirt to throw on and stumbled his way to the door. The common room was a bit less dark than the dormitory, but he needed to get out of here, out of the dungeons. If there had been people in the common room, he had paid them no attention, too in his own head to notice their presence. His hand pressed against the wall as he walked up the stairs, trying to get himself to focus on the sensation of the cool stone instead of the contents of his nightmare, but it wasn’t doing much to help.
Now in a dark corridor, but finally above ground, he walked and just kept walking, gradually picking up the pace until he was almost running. All he knew was that he needed to go away, away, away. He turned a corner and started trying the doors, entering the first room with an unlocked door and shutting it behind him, looking around for a light switch before remembering that he was in this stupid fucking castle and stupid fucking wizards didn’t have electricity. He sank down against a wall near a window, the pale moonlight shining onto him as he subconsciously started rocking back and forth slowly. He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, feet flat against the floor, and stopped rocking as he pressed his forehead against his knees.
He closed his eyes and immediately regretted it, images flashing through his mind. A shiver ran through his body despite not being cold. His eyes snapped open again and he leaned the back of his head against the wall helplessly, staring out at what he could see of the night sky. His dad would call him weak, call him a bitch for the tears that were welling up in his eyes. But his dad wasn’t here. Nobody was here. Silas was alone. He tried to tell himself that meant he was safe. Safe. Ha. He hadn’t been truly safe in a long time. He wasn’t even sure what safety felt like anymore. But here, right now, nobody was with him, and that meant there was nobody to hurt him.
It still wasn’t good enough. He exhaled a shaky breath, his trembling hands reaching up to cover his face. And then the tears started. Weak, weak, weak, was all he could hear in his head, fading into the background as the intensity of memories took its place. It was like everything was happening all over again — he could feel the burning, the pain, and he cried out, wanting it to stop. Eventually, once enough time passed, he was able to more or less calm down, his body still shaking with ragged, laboured breaths. He rested his cheek on his knees, face tilted slightly to the side so he could look out the window, and without meaning to, soon his eyes were closing again and he was drifting off to sleep. He was just so, so tired…
@Jessamine Lancaster
Late at night
Content warning: Trauma-based mental health issues
Silas woke up with a start, drenched in sweat, his heart racing. Before he even realised it, he was moving, sliding out of his bed. His breath came in shallow pants, his eyes a little too wide as he searched for some shoes and a sweatshirt to throw on and stumbled his way to the door. The common room was a bit less dark than the dormitory, but he needed to get out of here, out of the dungeons. If there had been people in the common room, he had paid them no attention, too in his own head to notice their presence. His hand pressed against the wall as he walked up the stairs, trying to get himself to focus on the sensation of the cool stone instead of the contents of his nightmare, but it wasn’t doing much to help.
Now in a dark corridor, but finally above ground, he walked and just kept walking, gradually picking up the pace until he was almost running. All he knew was that he needed to go away, away, away. He turned a corner and started trying the doors, entering the first room with an unlocked door and shutting it behind him, looking around for a light switch before remembering that he was in this stupid fucking castle and stupid fucking wizards didn’t have electricity. He sank down against a wall near a window, the pale moonlight shining onto him as he subconsciously started rocking back and forth slowly. He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, feet flat against the floor, and stopped rocking as he pressed his forehead against his knees.
He closed his eyes and immediately regretted it, images flashing through his mind. A shiver ran through his body despite not being cold. His eyes snapped open again and he leaned the back of his head against the wall helplessly, staring out at what he could see of the night sky. His dad would call him weak, call him a bitch for the tears that were welling up in his eyes. But his dad wasn’t here. Nobody was here. Silas was alone. He tried to tell himself that meant he was safe. Safe. Ha. He hadn’t been truly safe in a long time. He wasn’t even sure what safety felt like anymore. But here, right now, nobody was with him, and that meant there was nobody to hurt him.
It still wasn’t good enough. He exhaled a shaky breath, his trembling hands reaching up to cover his face. And then the tears started. Weak, weak, weak, was all he could hear in his head, fading into the background as the intensity of memories took its place. It was like everything was happening all over again — he could feel the burning, the pain, and he cried out, wanting it to stop. Eventually, once enough time passed, he was able to more or less calm down, his body still shaking with ragged, laboured breaths. He rested his cheek on his knees, face tilted slightly to the side so he could look out the window, and without meaning to, soon his eyes were closing again and he was drifting off to sleep. He was just so, so tired…
@Jessamine Lancaster
Second student character of Ruby Cazares | Staff account: Taros Quintero | iNPC: Valeriy Viktorovna Reznikov
Check out the Headliner!
Shadows That Move
Date: 10th September 2025
Location: Hogwarts, United Kingdom
Mentions: @Silas Norwood
Location: Hogwarts, United Kingdom
Mentions: @Silas Norwood
Marking assignments in the dead of night had never been a good idea. However, wanting to be that professor—the one who held engaging lectures and always had assignments marked in a more-than-timely manner, the one who students actually wanted to see and talk to—meant she sat at her desk well past midnight, flipping over parchment after parchment, writing until her wrist cramped. Jessamine had re-lit the candles in her office multiple times now, something that was very much to the chagrin of her snake, who said it ‘interrupted his beauty sleep’. She had rolled her eyes and had politely not told him to shove his bloody ‘beauty sleep’ out of the North Tower windows. Besides, he went back to sleep soon enough…
Jessamine continued to sift through assignments, but the next time she dipped her quill into the inkwell on her desk, the drag of dry metal on parchment greeted her when she tried to write. Groggily, she stared at the parchment first, and then at the quill, and then at the inkwell, and she bit back a swear. Empty? It had been new not long ago.
She gazed around the room, eyes narrowed in search of a full inkwell, but even after standing to have a better view, she found none. She reached downwards, her fingertips brushing the edge of her wand, but she retracted her hand nearly immediately. An accio inkwell might, in her exhausted state, summon something from the dungeons and wake up all of the students. No, she couldn’t have that. She stretched, something in her back popping in the process, and she grimaced before slipping on a relatively comfortable pair of loafers and pulling a cardigan around her shoulders. Then, she ducked out of the office.
The most obvious solution was to simply ‘borrow’ some ink from Professor Nenovsky. It was tempting, but the idea of antagonising her kind-demeanoured colleague abhorred her. So… down the stairs it was.
Jessamine had not missed the stairs. She hadn’t minded them in her youth, but now, after years away, she ended up pacing herself when in the past, she would have sprinted down as fast as she could. This new approach was doubly advantageous. Not only did she avoid needing to catch her breath, but she also refrained from causing a huge ruckus. She hardly wanted to be seen out by any errant students. First, catching rule-breakers was the prefects’ job, not hers. Second, she couldn’t help but think some slander-loving writer on the newspaper would have a ball writing about the new Runes professor’s stairway escapades—the horror!
With the need for silence in mind, Jessamine decided to avoid any locks. Even the click after a well-cast alohomora might prove loud enough to alert a light sleeper to her presence. She stared at the numerous closed doors, very tempted to abandon her mission and instead get some much-needed sleep, when, instead, her gaze caught on something strange. An empty classroom that usually had its door kept ajar was shut off. Inkwell all but forgotten, she drew nearer and tested the knob. It moved smoothly, as did the door, swinging open with little resistance.
Not even bothering to reach for her wand, she waved a hand and murmured, 'Lumos,' underneath her breath. Creeping forward, Jessamine ascertained that the room had not changed. Had it the door been shut by accident? She continued to move deeper into the room, only pausing when a shape not too far from the window caught her eye. It appeared, quite honestly, like a heap of clothing, and, intrigued, she took a closer look only to realise it was a sleeping student.
Her first thought was that, no matter his house, he was quite far from where he ought to be at this time of night. On further inspection, though, and under the light… were those tear tracks?
She sat next to the student and began to puzzle out what the best way to wake him would be. She’d never had to wake a child during tutoring or counselling sessions, so her only experience in the matter was with her own children. Roscoe was usually even-tempered, but… right. She remembered the last time she’d had to shake Camellia awake after a nightmare and stifled a sigh. Hopefully, the boy would be too tired to react explosively.
Jessamine would gently place her hand on his shoulder before tapping her fingers against his arm. 'Hey, let’s sit up…' she murmured, keeping her voice as low and soft as she could as to not startle the boy but still remain understandable should he be awake enough to comprehend words. 'The floor can’t be very comfortable…'
Jessamine continued to sift through assignments, but the next time she dipped her quill into the inkwell on her desk, the drag of dry metal on parchment greeted her when she tried to write. Groggily, she stared at the parchment first, and then at the quill, and then at the inkwell, and she bit back a swear. Empty? It had been new not long ago.
She gazed around the room, eyes narrowed in search of a full inkwell, but even after standing to have a better view, she found none. She reached downwards, her fingertips brushing the edge of her wand, but she retracted her hand nearly immediately. An accio inkwell might, in her exhausted state, summon something from the dungeons and wake up all of the students. No, she couldn’t have that. She stretched, something in her back popping in the process, and she grimaced before slipping on a relatively comfortable pair of loafers and pulling a cardigan around her shoulders. Then, she ducked out of the office.
The most obvious solution was to simply ‘borrow’ some ink from Professor Nenovsky. It was tempting, but the idea of antagonising her kind-demeanoured colleague abhorred her. So… down the stairs it was.
Jessamine had not missed the stairs. She hadn’t minded them in her youth, but now, after years away, she ended up pacing herself when in the past, she would have sprinted down as fast as she could. This new approach was doubly advantageous. Not only did she avoid needing to catch her breath, but she also refrained from causing a huge ruckus. She hardly wanted to be seen out by any errant students. First, catching rule-breakers was the prefects’ job, not hers. Second, she couldn’t help but think some slander-loving writer on the newspaper would have a ball writing about the new Runes professor’s stairway escapades—the horror!
With the need for silence in mind, Jessamine decided to avoid any locks. Even the click after a well-cast alohomora might prove loud enough to alert a light sleeper to her presence. She stared at the numerous closed doors, very tempted to abandon her mission and instead get some much-needed sleep, when, instead, her gaze caught on something strange. An empty classroom that usually had its door kept ajar was shut off. Inkwell all but forgotten, she drew nearer and tested the knob. It moved smoothly, as did the door, swinging open with little resistance.
Not even bothering to reach for her wand, she waved a hand and murmured, 'Lumos,' underneath her breath. Creeping forward, Jessamine ascertained that the room had not changed. Had it the door been shut by accident? She continued to move deeper into the room, only pausing when a shape not too far from the window caught her eye. It appeared, quite honestly, like a heap of clothing, and, intrigued, she took a closer look only to realise it was a sleeping student.
Her first thought was that, no matter his house, he was quite far from where he ought to be at this time of night. On further inspection, though, and under the light… were those tear tracks?
She sat next to the student and began to puzzle out what the best way to wake him would be. She’d never had to wake a child during tutoring or counselling sessions, so her only experience in the matter was with her own children. Roscoe was usually even-tempered, but… right. She remembered the last time she’d had to shake Camellia awake after a nightmare and stifled a sigh. Hopefully, the boy would be too tired to react explosively.
Jessamine would gently place her hand on his shoulder before tapping her fingers against his arm. 'Hey, let’s sit up…' she murmured, keeping her voice as low and soft as she could as to not startle the boy but still remain understandable should he be awake enough to comprehend words. 'The floor can’t be very comfortable…'
Godmods approved by Silas’s writer.
Shadows That Move
Unexpectedly awoken, Silas inhaled sharply, his arms automatically shooting up to protect his head as he flinched, scrunching his eyes tightly shut, chest heaving with strained breaths. When he felt no further touch, his eyes opened, warily peeking through the gap between his arms before slowly lowering them. There was a wildness still in his eyes as he regarded her distrustfully. “Who the fuck are you?” His voice was hoarse from disuse and crying. He cleared his throat. He could use some water. Taking a deep breath, he pressed a hand to his face, rubbing at it briefly with a soft sigh. He glanced around the room, still trying to orient himself before he remembered how he got here. Right. That.
He looked up at the woman again, trying to process what she had said. “The floor can’t be very comfortable…” “‘S fine,” he mumbled. She was right, though — it wasn’t comfortable. He shuffled away from her slightly, wanting to put a bit more distance between them. Then, he dragged himself to his feet to avoid remaining in a vulnerable position on the floor. Not like that. He had been there too many times before. Now standing, he leaned against the wall, pressing the bottom of one foot to it in a deceptively casual pose. He folded his arms in front of his chest. “Wha’ d’ya wan’? If it’s fer me ter leave, I was jus’ on my way ou’…”
He looked up at the woman again, trying to process what she had said. “The floor can’t be very comfortable…” “‘S fine,” he mumbled. She was right, though — it wasn’t comfortable. He shuffled away from her slightly, wanting to put a bit more distance between them. Then, he dragged himself to his feet to avoid remaining in a vulnerable position on the floor. Not like that. He had been there too many times before. Now standing, he leaned against the wall, pressing the bottom of one foot to it in a deceptively casual pose. He folded his arms in front of his chest. “Wha’ d’ya wan’? If it’s fer me ter leave, I was jus’ on my way ou’…”
Second student character of Ruby Cazares | Staff account: Taros Quintero | iNPC: Valeriy Viktorovna Reznikov
Check out the Headliner!
Shadows That Move
Date: 10th September 2025
Location: Hogwarts, United Kingdom
Mentions: @Silas Norwood
Active abilities: Cat's Grace, Calming Presence
Location: Hogwarts, United Kingdom
Mentions: @Silas Norwood
Active abilities: Cat's Grace, Calming Presence
Expecting the boy to be calm-tempered after waking proved to be unrealistic.
She expected a rude comment. Perhaps an eye roll. Even a 'who are YOU' would have been absolutely warranted. But the sharp inhale, the protective gesture, the strained breaths? Jessamine jerked her hand backwards and immediately moved away from the boy, remaining just close enough to keep an eye on him. That was not a usual response from a cranky child upon being awoken.
That was a trauma response.
Her first thought was that she would like to have a word with whomever had thought to wake the boy in such a manner that that was his response. But the next idea, and the more pressing one, is that she had to at least not appear as a threat. Because she wasn't. All she had wanted was some ink, for Merlin's sake. Next time she would be casting accio late at night, and damn anyone else's sleep if it meant she wasn't going to accidentally make a child react like that again.
Ah—and there it was, although she hadn't expected the 'who are you' to have quite as colourful language. She remained quiet to let the boy orient himself, fully aware that waking up in that manner to a complete stranger and an unfamiliar room could hardly have helped his situation. Once he stood, she offered a small nod, backing away so she could lean against a desk and give him some space. 'Jessamine Lancaster. I teach Ancient Runes—assuming you're not a third year, you're probably hardly aware of it. Plus, that's irrelevant right now. You look like you could use a cup of tea.'
When he spoke again, Jessamine gave a small, noncommittal shrug in response, doing her best to avoid spooking him. 'I'm not going to stop you from leaving if that's what you would prefer. I was looking for some supplies when I found you asleep in here. I apologise if you didn't want to be bothered, but if it were me, I don't think I would have wanted to be found in the morning when there were more people.' She angled her chin towards the door. 'Usually, it's open. I'm assuming that's how you got in here. Leaving it open would have helped people not notice anything had changed.' Jessamine glanced back at the boy and had to stifle a yawn. This was definitely the last time she was staying up so late for the foreseeable future. 'I'd recommend getting something to drink, though. I have some tea in my office, some music if that would help you get your bearings. Plus, I have a snake. Still, up to you.'
Mentioning Asclepius was something she hadn't expected to be doing, but she'd learned over the course of her first few days that students tended to think snakes were cool. If only they knew the totally un-hip things her Emerald Gazer tried to say.
If the boy just decided to leave, Jessamine would not stop him. However, in his state, she doubted he would have any desire to go back to his dormitory, and she figured an offer of a safe enough place to calm down and re-orient himself might at least be prudent, even if it ended up being altogether unhelpful. Either way, what he wanted to do would remain his choice.
She expected a rude comment. Perhaps an eye roll. Even a 'who are YOU' would have been absolutely warranted. But the sharp inhale, the protective gesture, the strained breaths? Jessamine jerked her hand backwards and immediately moved away from the boy, remaining just close enough to keep an eye on him. That was not a usual response from a cranky child upon being awoken.
That was a trauma response.
Her first thought was that she would like to have a word with whomever had thought to wake the boy in such a manner that that was his response. But the next idea, and the more pressing one, is that she had to at least not appear as a threat. Because she wasn't. All she had wanted was some ink, for Merlin's sake. Next time she would be casting accio late at night, and damn anyone else's sleep if it meant she wasn't going to accidentally make a child react like that again.
Ah—and there it was, although she hadn't expected the 'who are you' to have quite as colourful language. She remained quiet to let the boy orient himself, fully aware that waking up in that manner to a complete stranger and an unfamiliar room could hardly have helped his situation. Once he stood, she offered a small nod, backing away so she could lean against a desk and give him some space. 'Jessamine Lancaster. I teach Ancient Runes—assuming you're not a third year, you're probably hardly aware of it. Plus, that's irrelevant right now. You look like you could use a cup of tea.'
When he spoke again, Jessamine gave a small, noncommittal shrug in response, doing her best to avoid spooking him. 'I'm not going to stop you from leaving if that's what you would prefer. I was looking for some supplies when I found you asleep in here. I apologise if you didn't want to be bothered, but if it were me, I don't think I would have wanted to be found in the morning when there were more people.' She angled her chin towards the door. 'Usually, it's open. I'm assuming that's how you got in here. Leaving it open would have helped people not notice anything had changed.' Jessamine glanced back at the boy and had to stifle a yawn. This was definitely the last time she was staying up so late for the foreseeable future. 'I'd recommend getting something to drink, though. I have some tea in my office, some music if that would help you get your bearings. Plus, I have a snake. Still, up to you.'
Mentioning Asclepius was something she hadn't expected to be doing, but she'd learned over the course of her first few days that students tended to think snakes were cool. If only they knew the totally un-hip things her Emerald Gazer tried to say.
If the boy just decided to leave, Jessamine would not stop him. However, in his state, she doubted he would have any desire to go back to his dormitory, and she figured an offer of a safe enough place to calm down and re-orient himself might at least be prudent, even if it ended up being altogether unhelpful. Either way, what he wanted to do would remain his choice.
Shadows That Move
His eyes narrowed as he watched her, but she only backed away instead of coming towards him or trying to touch him again. “Jessamine Lancaster. I teach Ancient Runes—assuming you're not a third year, you're probably hardly aware of it.” Ancient Runes? That was an actual subject here? He was about to make fun of it, but then he properly considered it. It sounded… a little neat, actually? Probably obsolete — although maybe here it wasn’t? — but possibly cool as well, and maybe he didn’t need to make fun of everything he came into contact with. “Yeah, it’s only my second week ‘ere…” And wasn’t it just going absolutely brilliantly?
She said that she wouldn’t stop him from leaving, so he considered doing just that — walking out of here and pretending this hadn’t happened, finding somewhere else to be. But where could he actually go…? He didn’t know the castle well enough and most places seemed to be locked at night. He certainly didn’t want to go back to the Slytherin areas — there was a reason why he had left in the first place, and the idea of being below ground felt suffocating. He sighed quietly. “… if it were me, I don't think I would have wanted to be found in the morning when there were more people.” It was a good point, too, of course. He wouldn’t have wanted that, either. At least she seemed nice and wasn’t making fun of him or scolding him for being out of the dorms so late.
“Leaving it open would have helped people not notice anything had changed,” she said of the door. “Oh… bu’ I, um… I didn’ wan’ others ter come in.” And, honestly, he hadn’t been thinking of that — hadn’t been thinking of much at all besides the need to get away. If he was smart, he would have left the door as it was. But there were worse things than having drawn the attention of this woman, and Silas perked up slightly at her mention of music. “Music? Wha’ kind?” It would probably just be classical or something, but it would have to do. Ten days without music were far too many. “And ya ‘ave a snake?” Okay, that was cool.
Part of him still wanted to just leave — push her away, prevent her from seeing any more vulnerability, return to being alone. But as much as he wanted to avoid being around someone who had seen him react like that, he also didn’t want to be alone. No, he needed to not be alone. Because he knew what happened when he was alone, especially so soon after having nightmares: the thoughts and memories would creep in, settling like a rope around his neck and pulling until he was choking. He needed the distraction of being around someone, and since music was one of the main ways he coped back at home, that did sound relatively appealing. He nodded, accepting her offer, and moved his foot from the wall back to the floor, ready to leave.
She said that she wouldn’t stop him from leaving, so he considered doing just that — walking out of here and pretending this hadn’t happened, finding somewhere else to be. But where could he actually go…? He didn’t know the castle well enough and most places seemed to be locked at night. He certainly didn’t want to go back to the Slytherin areas — there was a reason why he had left in the first place, and the idea of being below ground felt suffocating. He sighed quietly. “… if it were me, I don't think I would have wanted to be found in the morning when there were more people.” It was a good point, too, of course. He wouldn’t have wanted that, either. At least she seemed nice and wasn’t making fun of him or scolding him for being out of the dorms so late.
“Leaving it open would have helped people not notice anything had changed,” she said of the door. “Oh… bu’ I, um… I didn’ wan’ others ter come in.” And, honestly, he hadn’t been thinking of that — hadn’t been thinking of much at all besides the need to get away. If he was smart, he would have left the door as it was. But there were worse things than having drawn the attention of this woman, and Silas perked up slightly at her mention of music. “Music? Wha’ kind?” It would probably just be classical or something, but it would have to do. Ten days without music were far too many. “And ya ‘ave a snake?” Okay, that was cool.
Part of him still wanted to just leave — push her away, prevent her from seeing any more vulnerability, return to being alone. But as much as he wanted to avoid being around someone who had seen him react like that, he also didn’t want to be alone. No, he needed to not be alone. Because he knew what happened when he was alone, especially so soon after having nightmares: the thoughts and memories would creep in, settling like a rope around his neck and pulling until he was choking. He needed the distraction of being around someone, and since music was one of the main ways he coped back at home, that did sound relatively appealing. He nodded, accepting her offer, and moved his foot from the wall back to the floor, ready to leave.
Second student character of Ruby Cazares | Staff account: Taros Quintero | iNPC: Valeriy Viktorovna Reznikov
Check out the Headliner!
Shadows That Move
Date: 10th September 2025
Location: Hogwarts, United Kingdom
Mentions: @Silas Norwood
Active abilities: Cat's Grace, Calming Presence
Location: Hogwarts, United Kingdom
Mentions: @Silas Norwood
Active abilities: Cat's Grace, Calming Presence
Jessamine's expression softened just a bit when the boy admitted it was his second week at the school. It was without question, then—he was a first year, and a first year who was clearly not having the best time. The boy's reaction wasn't out of the question, but that he seemed to perceive her as a potential threat was not something she was particularly pleased about. He had to be eleven, just perhaps twelve if he was particularly old for his year, and either age was too young to see the world as so full of danger—even if it, for some, was.
She did her best to avoid seeming overly concerned, given that the boy did not seem like the type to be too receptive to such an approach. It proved not to be such a difficult endeavour; she found herself letting out a sympathetic chuckle when the boy expressed that he hadn't wanted people to enter. Sure, closing a door would prevent that—but even without locking the door? Well, perhaps that had not been his first idea. Even understanding that didn't mean Jessamine couldn't find a bit of humour in the situation.
The boy did perk up at her mention of music. This was not unexpected for wizarding children. Plenty were trained in piano or violin excellence, or had been taught to sing alongside a choir. However, this boy certainly seemed unlike the wizard-born masses, so she shrugged in an attempt to maintain apparent nonchalance. 'Really, anything. You could call me a collector. Bach, if that's what you prefer, or a bit of Sinatra, some Weird Sisters.' She paused to think. 'I have a few discs of Linkin Park, if you've heard of them. Some Nirvana, Coldplay, The Offspring.' If he reacted with utter confusion, she would quickly play it off as just some things she found in the Muggle Artefacts shop at Hogsmeade. But some students really did mesh well with Muggle music—in her time at Hogwarts, Jessamine herself had been one of them.
She let out a small chuckle at his intrigue with her snake. 'Yes. He's quite the diva.' What was hip with eleven-year-old kids, anyway, these days? Dramatic snakes? 'I'm sure he'd be open to seeing a visitor. He seems to like attention.' She didn't necessarily like the idea of marking papers with a student present, should it come to that, but this kid seemed less like he'd hover over her shoulder and more like he would pass out in a chair. 'We can head up to my office now if you'd like,' she said after noting how he had moved from the wall. Jessamine, similarly, stood up from where she had previously leaned against the table. 'Although... I suppose I owe you a warning. It's up in the North Tower, up a despicable number of stairs. You can turn back at any time, I promise.'
With that, she would start to make her way to the room's door, but she would remain ready to pause should the boy wish. As she moved, she cast a quick glance backwards. 'I don't remember you mentioning your name. You don't need to, but I'd be interested in learning it.'
She did her best to avoid seeming overly concerned, given that the boy did not seem like the type to be too receptive to such an approach. It proved not to be such a difficult endeavour; she found herself letting out a sympathetic chuckle when the boy expressed that he hadn't wanted people to enter. Sure, closing a door would prevent that—but even without locking the door? Well, perhaps that had not been his first idea. Even understanding that didn't mean Jessamine couldn't find a bit of humour in the situation.
The boy did perk up at her mention of music. This was not unexpected for wizarding children. Plenty were trained in piano or violin excellence, or had been taught to sing alongside a choir. However, this boy certainly seemed unlike the wizard-born masses, so she shrugged in an attempt to maintain apparent nonchalance. 'Really, anything. You could call me a collector. Bach, if that's what you prefer, or a bit of Sinatra, some Weird Sisters.' She paused to think. 'I have a few discs of Linkin Park, if you've heard of them. Some Nirvana, Coldplay, The Offspring.' If he reacted with utter confusion, she would quickly play it off as just some things she found in the Muggle Artefacts shop at Hogsmeade. But some students really did mesh well with Muggle music—in her time at Hogwarts, Jessamine herself had been one of them.
She let out a small chuckle at his intrigue with her snake. 'Yes. He's quite the diva.' What was hip with eleven-year-old kids, anyway, these days? Dramatic snakes? 'I'm sure he'd be open to seeing a visitor. He seems to like attention.' She didn't necessarily like the idea of marking papers with a student present, should it come to that, but this kid seemed less like he'd hover over her shoulder and more like he would pass out in a chair. 'We can head up to my office now if you'd like,' she said after noting how he had moved from the wall. Jessamine, similarly, stood up from where she had previously leaned against the table. 'Although... I suppose I owe you a warning. It's up in the North Tower, up a despicable number of stairs. You can turn back at any time, I promise.'
With that, she would start to make her way to the room's door, but she would remain ready to pause should the boy wish. As she moved, she cast a quick glance backwards. 'I don't remember you mentioning your name. You don't need to, but I'd be interested in learning it.'
Shadows That Move
Silas’s nose wrinkled at the mention of Bach. “Do I look like Bach’s wha’ I fuckin’ prefer?” His tone was indignant, like she was accusing him of something very offensive. “An’ am I supposed ter know who the Weird Sisters are?” He frowned slightly. He thought that he had a pretty decent knowledge of music and well-known bands, but if it was anything like Bach, maybe it made sense that he didn’t know who they were. “… a few discs of Linkin Park, if you’ve heard of them.” “If I’ve ‘eard of ‘em??” He looked at her like she was crazy, equal parts “offended” and confused. She continued, “Some Nirvana, Coldplay, The Offspring.” “Thank god.” So she did have multiple normal things that he actually regularly listened to. He had been prepared to begrudgingly accept the possibility of classical music because it was still music and better than nothing, but he was very glad that he didn’t have to.
He listened to her talk about her snake, slightly sceptical. Snakes could be divas? He didn’t really think of snakes as having personalities that were that strong, but then again, he had never properly owned a snake, so what did he know? He did want to see it, though. “We can head up to my office now if you’d like.” He gave a single nod in response, not quite meeting her eyes. His arms were still crossed in front of him, pale fingers gripping his arms a little too tightly, like he was trying to hold on for dear life.
She warned him about the amount of stairs and he raised an eyebrow. “‘Ave wizards not ‘eard of lifts or summat? Bu’ I’ll be fine, I play football. It’s jus’ training.” He followed her to the door, movements vaguely hesitant, unlike the relative confidence that had been in his voice as he spoke. He barely even processed that he was moving now, feeling more like a robot or wind-up toy walking automatically. He blinked when she talked again. Huh? It took him a second to process what she had said — what a weird way of asking for his name. “Silas,” he mumbled. She confused him — he wasn’t sure why she was giving him the option to just… not share something as simple as his name. After glancing at her, his gaze drifted to the ground, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets.
Continued in Heavydirtysoul.
He listened to her talk about her snake, slightly sceptical. Snakes could be divas? He didn’t really think of snakes as having personalities that were that strong, but then again, he had never properly owned a snake, so what did he know? He did want to see it, though. “We can head up to my office now if you’d like.” He gave a single nod in response, not quite meeting her eyes. His arms were still crossed in front of him, pale fingers gripping his arms a little too tightly, like he was trying to hold on for dear life.
She warned him about the amount of stairs and he raised an eyebrow. “‘Ave wizards not ‘eard of lifts or summat? Bu’ I’ll be fine, I play football. It’s jus’ training.” He followed her to the door, movements vaguely hesitant, unlike the relative confidence that had been in his voice as he spoke. He barely even processed that he was moving now, feeling more like a robot or wind-up toy walking automatically. He blinked when she talked again. Huh? It took him a second to process what she had said — what a weird way of asking for his name. “Silas,” he mumbled. She confused him — he wasn’t sure why she was giving him the option to just… not share something as simple as his name. After glancing at her, his gaze drifted to the ground, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets.
Continued in Heavydirtysoul.
Second student character of Ruby Cazares | Staff account: Taros Quintero | iNPC: Valeriy Viktorovna Reznikov
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