Normalcy Doesn't Exist Anymore PV McLefford Clo

Dressed in her Gryffindor uniform, which she had increasingly became comfortable in wearing, Waverly made her way down the hallway. She was wearing dark pants and a fitted red sweater over her small frame. Her hair was tossed to the side in an uncaring mattered that matched her tired demeanor.

She was coming back from the library after long hours of studying—she just couldn't grasp the concepts in Transfiguration—and had gotten lost in the halls, it at least she thought she did. Parts of the castle looked equally familiar and different, so much that when she thought that she was near the Gryffindor Tower she ended up having gone in a complete circle. It was more than a little maddening, since it only increased her irritation, but the young girl was determined to find her way, perhaps because it was her only option.

Waverly was passing yet another room when she heard the faint sound of someone singing. Normally she would've minded her business but she had to stop to get her bearings and unintentionally starting paying attention to the lyrics.

Whoever was singing, and they sounded very feminine, had a beautiful voice, thick with an accent. They also were playing an instrument, which Waverley had only now noticed. She enjoys the music for a moment before trying to focus back on the her task, getting to her Common Room, and she could only hope that she remembered the password to it.

Waverly began to walk again but then thought better of it. Perhaps the person in the Rehearsal Room knew the way, if they were a Gryffindor. She only assumed this because she didn't know where the other Houses were, but an older student might know.

She pushed the door open slowly so she wouldn't disturb the violinist. She immediately took notice of a girl who seemed lost in her music, oblivious at the moment to the sound of an intruder. Waverly hesitated, then stepped all the way in, closing the door behind her. She proceeded towards the girl, who was dressed for comfort. She carried a few school books and some notebooks, unlike some others who carried parchment and quills.

Waverly cleared her throat. “Sorry for interrupting...but I need help. I'm kind of lost.” She pursed her lips, waiting for an answer.

Illowy's secluded little world was shattered as a small voice broke through to her. Just as suddenly as if someone had pulled the needle from a record player did Illowy's bow lift from the strings of her instrument as she turned with a rather annoyed expression. Honestly, did no one ever hear of privacy in this school? Surely, if she were here alone it was obvious that she wanted it that way.

Cold, pale blue eyes looked the first year up and down; a Gryffindor, of course. Gryffindor's never had any common sense of manners. The young one's especially. Illowy's gaze then fell on the girl's unorthodox selection of school supplies, which made it more then obvious by this point in the snake's school career what sort of bloodline the girl must've come from.

The only thing in this child's favor was that she was a first year, and after having struggled a bit herself in her first year, Illowy had grown a bit of a soft spot for such tenderfooted students. Had the girl been from her own year or older, the snake wouldn't have thought twice about telling her to get lost. With a reluctant sigh as she dropped the violin from it's position, the second year spoke, "Where are ye tryin' t'go?"

Hopefully the child wouldn't say some place utterly ridiculous to make her regret even asking.