Lost, and it's Your Problem pv

Interacting with: @Archer Duncan


Nico struggled with returning the handshake, trying not to drop any more books, but they succeeded with a smile, not showing a hint of offence. “Rapping? Not really, though I like singing. Not a big fan of rap,” they said, closely observing what they considered a potential new friend. They were proud of themselves for correctly reading his expression as bothered, which they (incorrectly) pinned to him perhaps having an unsatisfactory breakfast.

They stared at him with empty eyes for a second before something clicked. “Oh, did you mean I talk too fast? You were joking!” they let out a laugh, which was cut short as they anxiously adjusted their hold on the tomes. “Sorry about that, it’s really nice to meet you.” Nico made sure to slow down and carefully enunciate each word, trying to sound as clear and concise as possible, to match the upperclassman. They were aware they had a bad habit of slurring their words when they were excited or stressed, this time a bit of both. The same could not be said about Archer, whose tone could only be taken as vexed, however calm.

Nico figured it would be best to hold back on their own hasty chatter for a while and instead get the boy to talk. He could help them, but they were also plainly curious of his person. Not only was he older, which means being way more knowledgeable about Hogwarts and magic than them, he also had an aura of mystery surrounding him. He did not seem nearly as open as Nico’s housemates, and yet, there was definitely a flash in Archer’s eye when he first saw them, followed by the shadow of disappointment when they introduced themselves. They had a suspicion that said disappointment only got worse when they opened their mouth again. He mistook them for someone, and they couldn’t help but wonder what sort of person could inflict such a positive reaction in an otherwise nonchalant boy. “You called me Silas earlier. Who is that?” they inched even closer than before. “Is he similar to me? Is he also a Gryffindor?”

Nico valued any shred of knowledge about their surroundings, which of course included learning about other people. They did not like the feeling of being out of the loop, so any gossip and connection was something they were interested in, even if only for the sake of being nosy. They couldn’t do much with said news even if they wanted to, but this seemed to be useful - if the so-called Norwood is similar to them personality-wise, maybe they could be friends. And if not, they could find out what it is that Archer likes about him, and make him warm up to Nico as well. It’s not that they wanted to suck up to him specifically - they simply wanted to be liked by everyone. Or tolerated, at the very least. And if someone as cool as him liked Silas, then he must’ve been quite the interesting character.

Wondering about the mistake, their imagination had started getting out of hand, as at the speed of light new ideas started popping up in their head; whether they had a clone or a long lost twin, and how many potential schemes they could carry out if they really were that similar to each other. If they had a twin they could trick teachers, go to each other’s classes, set up pranks, just like in movies. Just in the middle of a scenario where they’d sneak around school as the hypothetical doppelganger covers for them, they thought of the restricted section in the library they overheard about… The library. Books. They remembered they had a goal in this whole trip and chatting with Archer was only supposed to be a stepping stone.

In a slightly rude manner they raised up their hand as they spoke. “Wait, could you tell me about it on the way? I’m getting a bit sick of those halls,” they stopped him before he had a chance to reply properly. They in fact haven’t given him one to reply to any of their questions, which they didn’t pay any mind to. They already had a mental image of the boy leading them through the school, describing what they’re passing as if on a sightseeing trip, and including fun tidbits from the student body's daily life. Nico was so engrossed in their own world, they did not even register that Archer has not expressed the will to help at any point.




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Archer managed to contain a laugh as he smirked instead at Nico’s response. At least he retained some manner of courtesy. He grinned when Nico stared at him blankly, teasingly waiting for him to understand he was merely jesting. When the gears must have finally clicked in Nico’s mind Archer’s smile miraculously widened. “Yes,” he said, voice not unkind, “I was joking.” He watched as the younger student laughed nervously. His grin still lazily hanging off his face Archer straightened with a fraction of seriousness. Finally, voice slowed down, the boy was speaking at a pace for normal human comprehension.

Archer had never been known for having the most forgiving sense of humour. He had never been known to have much of a sense of humour regardless. If not a rigid boy others saw him as a brooding one, a Byronic hero too consumed by his own story to care about the world around him, much less kid. Yet it was simply that what he considered laughable was often as dark as they perceived his personality to be.

Often, Archer wasn’t even trying to be funny.

So the young wix was curious about their doppelgänger? Silas, Archer mused. However does one explain Silas? Finally he settled on a response, hoping it would be enough of an explanation to Silas’ reputation. “He’s not similar to you at all,” the side of Archer’s lip rose, “But worry not, you ought to take that as a compliment.” Silas may have been one hell of an entertainment—from his arbitrary ball throwing to his dramatic comments of the common room, but he was certainly no role model for an impressionable young student. In fact, Nico seemed to be the polar opposite of the boy in many factors, from the studiousness that gave away his identity to the appealing nature in comparison to Silas’ brazen carelessness. It, however, needed to be known that Archer, however reluctant he may be, found both wixen to be charming little underclassmen.

Just after Archer had finished, barely sparing him a moment of thought, Nico began once more, his spirits clearly undeterred by the fallen books and dry responses. The way nothing seemed to discourage Nico was not only amusing but… dare Archer say, inspiring. “Wait, could you tell me about it on the way? I’m getting a bit sick of those halls.”

It was funny, how Nico raised up their hand as if he were in a classroom, and not waiting until they were called on, spoke, as if he were a pretentious student who had read too far ahead. Archer only nodded, unimpressed. The tireless repetition of the halls meant to be hallowed yet were only hollowed in spirit drew on the soul for those who had walked these paths far too often. “En route to the study room, huh?” He tilted head in curiosity, before pausing as if mulling the thought over. “You know what—” Archer said finally, one had raised in the air to signal he had completely given up on any idea of rejection. There was no point in fighting back against the, admittedly, endearingly obnoxious chatterbox, for he would have talked his ear off until he relented anyway. “—Pourquoi pas.¹”

A mischievous smile crept up Archer’s lips, as if he was caught between an inside joke or a scheme Nico was oblivious to. “Come now,” he continued with a heavy sigh, waving his hand listlessly as if he had long given up on the inane song and dance that was life already. He beckoned the student towards him, a look of bored amusement dotting hazel eyes. “Do you want a tour of Hogwarts while we’re at it?” He questioned sarcastically.

So, as they meandered in twisting directions it was decided then: Archer was to have a little Nico tag along wherever he went. Despite his disgruntled appearance at Nico’s presence, their constant questioning turned not to be vexing but rather quite bemusing. It left Archer uncertain how to respond to his string of speech, unable to match his enthused attitude, yet for a matter so trivial it was almost reassuring to be as befuddled as he was. Like Silas’ antics, what Archer would have once thought to be abrasive in fact turned out to be quite adorable.

Archer supposed he was stuck with them.

@Nico Dawson | 1: Why not. | Banner by Pericles Dralt

Interacting with: @Archer Duncan


It would not be entirely accurate to say that Nico felt relieved, as they did not have a proper reason to be stressed before, but a certain wave of joy washed over them as they watched Archer’s lips curl upwards. Not that they cared for people’s appearances, but they always believed a smile can make anyone look better, the wizard being no exception. Whether a truly kind one or a sly smirk, it seemed to soften his features. Nico took it as a sign of approval, now feeling more comfortable in the student’s presence.

They listened to the short and cryptic description of their potential clone, which only made their eyebrows scrunch in confusion. If being dissimilar to him was a compliment he must’ve been quite the character. Nico wondered if that meant meeting him would be entertaining, or if Archer’s expression meant they should steer away - something in his tone suggested the latter. They hoped he’d elaborate, so they stared into his eyes expectantly, waiting for his decision. “You know what—” the boy started, making Nico’s heart flutter with anticipation. “—Pourquoi pas.”

Something in their face shifted, eyes still wide open, with seemingly not much behind them. Nico wished they could react in any way, really, but the string of sounds that left the boy’s lips made close to no sense to them. Common sense suggested the words were of French origin, as the distinct pronunciation was rather hard to mistake. They however had not known even a lick of it - in their elementary school they happened to be put in a Spanish class instead (which to be frank, they did not know well either). Dread filled their soul as they wondered if taking French was mandatory to attend Hogwarts and whether people will continue to throw in foreign snippets in daily conversation expecting them to understand. Another bit of panic started creeping its way as they recalled their cousin speaking the language - didn’t “pas” mean “not” or something?

The smirk still slithering around the older boy’s face could mean he did not notice Nico’s confused scowl, or on the contrary - found it amusing. Nico would never find out which as he swiftly continued. “Come now,” had barely sounded and they perked right back up, bright as ever. They really were like a spring - as quick as their mood was to change, they’d always bounce to their default state of carefree bliss, no matter what ailed them. There was no power in this world strong enough to dim their clear eyes for longer than a couple minutes, but it was definitely easy to make the gleam stronger.

A proposal of a tour was everything Nico wanted to hear; they nodded so energetically the mass of dark locs finally covered their vision enough that they couldn’t put off adjusting it any longer as they followed their new travel companion (or guide, if you will). Due to their rather contrasting statures they had to walk faster to match his long strides which resulted in an impression they were chasing after him. They had to keep up however so they could attempt to hold eye contact as they went right back to blabbering.

“A tour is great, actually. I mean, they did show us around a bit when we came here, but there is so much to see isn’t there? Like, you’re a Slytherin, right? Is it true your common room is in the dungeons? That sounds so cool, I must go there when I have time!” they glanced at their new friend’s emerald tie, before squinting their eyes as a ray of sunshine from the nearby window hit them. Now redirecting their attention to the matching greenery outside, they continued. “I haven’t even explored the grounds properly yet. I definitely need to go, I like sitting outside,” they sighed dreamily, recollecting the hours spent lounging in their aunt’s garden. While not as private, Hogwarts grounds were sure to have some quiet corners, where they could climb a tree and relax, humming their favourite songs. “What about you? Do you have a favourite place to chill here? You’re here longer so you must’ve found some cool secret spots. Or not secret! I want to know where to look for you, you know.”

Perhaps others would consider such immediate chumminess too rushed, but not Nico. They came to this school with a goal and a promise, to make some new friends, and what other way there is than making the first step? Any opportunity was good, even if it was simply asking a stranger for directions. In the past their advances weren’t always fruitful - some people took the child’s unconditional warmth as insincere, others found it overbearing. And yet, they persevered. The wish to become everyone’s friend was stronger than the potential of failure. As they followed Archer, their steps were filled with a hint of determination.

wc: 822
notes: so sorry for the wait!

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“A tour is great, actually.”

Archer barely managed to hide an eye roll as he sighed heavily, almost halting mid-way to explain the intricacies of sarcasm before deciding that it was not worth his time. Perhaps believing Nico was sharp enough to understand such subtext was fault on Archer’s part, but there was an oblivious nature to the youngster that only made him more intrigued. Archer rubbed his temples as if plagued by an unrelenting headache — quite the apt description of Nico Dawson — before eventually caving and nodding. He cocked his head to the side as if to ask for Nico to follow, they wound their way through the corridors and staircases and into the awaiting castle chambers.

Between breaths that seemed bordering on laboured he responded to each question like a tired brother was a badgering younger sibling, “Yes, I am a Slytherin; yes, we do live in the dungeons; and no, it would not be in your best interest to venture down there.” He grinned, almost, a sly edge tinting his lips a deeper red than its usual pink. He offered Nico a curious glance, as if wondering why anyone would be so drawn to a place as dreary, yet he supposed once he too observed an interest in his lodgings, before the mundanity of its existence sucked that away completely.

Archer managed a smile, this one almost bordering on genuine, when Nico mentioned offhandedly that he enjoyed nature. There was a dreamy tone to Nico’s voice, and it was almost infectious as, for a few fleeting moments, Archer too lost himself in the invitation of nature. Archer recalled lazy afternoons basking under the shade of old willow trees, or intense mornings with the frost still fresh on the grass and the air a crisp chill of early possibility. He had danced when in the downpours and relaxed in the sunlight. He had watched the stars and painted the clouds. Archer loved nature not the way others loved only bright skies or stray nights but with all his heart and for all her faces; from the sunniest of sun to the rainiest of rain. Whole, accepting, all-consuming — that was the nature of his love. Yet instead of such strong professing he only spoke two blunt, curt sentences: “I do too. Sitting outside I mean.”

He smirked a little at his own response, even if it wasn’t particularly funny.

“What about you?”

Archer raised a brow at their question, and let out a soft hum of pondering. What about him? So often did people seem to want something form him that rarely did they stop and ask him with such fervent interest as Nico’s. It was almost endearing, in their own twisted way. Their immediate closeness may have been an initial invasion of boundaries yet as Archer was starting to grow more reluctantly attached to the young Gryffindor he almost welcome the act he would usually express heavy distaste for. The more they walked on through the meandering corridors of Hogwarts, the more Archer came to peace with the fact that their proximity was not forced. In fact, he found himself having to remind himself that he was with him of his own volition, and not quite out of an act of masochism either. In fact, not only did Archer found himself content, he was almost joyous at the prospect of having the student trail him around, not as a burden, but as a comet’s tail.

He spent a few moments in thought, a plethora of answers gracing his mind. The library, under the shadows of the shelves or in the sun that beamed in through the window blinds, curled up in the depths of a beanbag or body stretched out on the armrest of an armchair. The duelling hall, where the air smelt forever of sweat and felt forever of bruises, active on the piste against dummies and opponents or taking swigs of water from the sidelines as he watched his teammates in sulking jealousy. His own dormitory, occupied only by him and his beloved cat, Zeno, where he took one bed and his feline the other: the days he had spent whiling way in bed, covers drawn nightly up to his chest; the nights were he was restless, sorting frantically through his notes only to leave papers flying the next morning. It may not have been a pretty sight, but it was his sight, and that was enough. All of this, these memories and these attributes — they all belonged to him.

How was he supposed to explain that to an outsider? He led Nico up a stairway, and they hiked the arbitrary movements up to the fourth floor, where their first destination, the glorious duelling hall, awaited in all its august grandeur.

Finally, he gave only one, efficient answer as he gave Nico a look, “Why don’t I show you instead?”

@Nico Dawson

Interacting with: @Archer Duncan


As the two paced through the castle’s corridors, despite their own constant talking, Nico’s curiosity about the student only grew stronger. It was hard to tell whether he was truly enjoying this predicament or not, something Nico found confusing. Expressing their feelings was never a difficulty, although it wasn’t much of a conscious decision. When they decided they liked something or someone, everyone around would quickly notice - the excitement, the smiles and the flurry of words that came to express such joy were but a natural reaction. On the extremely rare occasions when there were truly no kind thoughts to be had, they would simply state that, or leave without making a fuss to avoid unnecessary conflict.

Such a straightforward way of thinking led Nico to believe Archer must’ve surely been having just as great of a time as them. He did entertain their questions after all, even if the tone sometimes suggested they should’ve never been asked in the first place. Their own smile dropped a bit when warned off the dungeons - Nico wanted to know every nook and cranny of such a fascinating place, and just the word “dungeons” held this enticing hint of eeriness and mystery. Perhaps this venture would have to wait though, so they continued with questions about other parts of the school. They noticed the boy go through an array of expressions, anywhere between utter boredom and smug grins, but one thing stood out. An unusual softness crept in when asked about his own favourite place, so deep in thought as if it was the first question he truly pondered, unlike the mostly automatic affirmations of their other inquiries. Rather than a sign of melancholy however, Nico took it as a promise of something thrilling. “Why don’t I show you instead?” was the answer he gave, to which they energetically nodded and skipped next to him.

The pair made their way to the front of a heavy looking pair of doors, in the area of the castle Nico rarely had any business in. A metal plaque next to the entrance made the location quite obvious however, and upon reading it the younger student’s eyes widened and managed to sparkle much stronger than usual. “You do duelling?!” they jumped right up to Archer’s face and exclaimed, perhaps a bit too loud for what is universally accepted in a civil conversation.

But it’s duelling! Nico managed to hear something about it right during their first ever day, and have been dying to hear more about it since. Truly, could there be anything that sounded more exhilarating? Sure, magic in general sounded fun and all, but magic duels are not something you see every day. They could only imagine how cool it looked with people shooting spells at each other, creating shields and force fields to protect themselves, maybe there was a spell that could change your wand into a greatsword and fight your opponent up close… In other words, it sounded like an infinity of possibilities for fun. Besides, they already considered Archer to be a very cool upperclassman, but if he also took part in actual duels? Their respect for him skyrocketed, and they looked at him like some sort of mystical being, knowledgeable in all there is to know, and a powerful wizard on top of that.

Frankly, as much as duels fascinated Nico, they weren’t sure if they’d actually find themself comfortable with such activities. They were rarely one to pick a fight, and if it happened, their only strength was dodging and outrunning their opponent. But this was different - they wouldn’t have to worry about anyone getting up close and physical (provided the greatsword idea turns out to be an uncommon practice), and would instead rely purely on their magical ability. An ability which they wanted to improve as much as possible whether it was in or out of class, something that a duelling club would surely help with.

Deep down, they knew there was one more reason to be interested in such a sport. They thought back to their cousin, who at this point would’ve been getting back to the regular school routine, dealing with maths, literature and all those boring subjects which Nico was about to leave behind. Sam was great at everything - including real sports. Often she’d be the instigator of the play fighting, causing them to chase each other through the entire house. She tried to learn karate at one point and was a natural, but Nico could never get the hang of it. It wasn’t about overpowering her, oh no. They simply wondered how impressed she would be if she was told they’re a duelling champion. For once, it was a sport they had a chance of being good at and make her proud. Well, or so they thought, but to be sure they had to learn more about it.

“That is so unbelievably cool! But do people get badly hurt? Is it fun? Are there any banned spells? Is-” they began drowning the boy in questions, but stopped themselves in their tracks. Archer picked this place specifically, presumably because it meant something for him. It was also his tour now, meaning he most likely had something in mind - it would be best to let him do the talking and leave the questions for the end. That was a phrase Nico heard frequently, but it never seemed to stick and prevent their interruptions. This time however they cleared their throat and rephrased. “I mean, please, lead the way.” they uttered with a polite smile.

wc: 932
notes: im alive i promise T_T

As Archer pushed open the grand doors that stood in front of the duelling hall, the unmistakable noise of exclamations, profanities, and spell casting spilt out in a torrent of an attack on his ears. From flipendos slung to incendios erupted, an array of magic lit the room up in flashes of purple and flames of orange. He almost fought the instinct to reach for his own wand, if only to protect his younger protege from the horrors that laid within the pistes. He backed away a few steps, before leading Nico through a cleared pathways at the ends, leading to the audience stands. “Stay safe,” he instructed, “It would look bad on me if you die here.”

Rushing out ahead of him, Archer had to reach out for the youngster’s sleeve before a stray spell sent him tumbling back, or lit his sweater aflame. Nico’s response to his warning was not at all unexpected. His voice rang out loud across the hall, drawing the attention of some of the practicing athletes, a handful of whom recognised Archer, and sent a scowl his way at the wide-eyed, wet-behind-the-ears child he had introduced into their ranks. Nico, living up to Archer’s description of him, spoke with awe tinting every word: “That is so unbelievably cool!”

Archer nodded, then shrugged. His response was lacklustre, “Quite.” Months spent within these halls had not only solidified it as a solace, an escape, and a personal implosion, but numbed the initial anxieties and excitement he too had experienced, just barely into his second year. At first they seized his body in both doubts and fantasies, yet now he was accustomed to the bruising that spread across his limbs, the aches that plagued his back, and the thrill that still possessed him when he trudged into battle anyway, careless for the ones he were already fighting in his psyche. It was both torture and paradise, yet in the face of his quotidian routine, it was just another hour to kill, and another body to sweat out.

“But do people get badly hurt?”

“Sometimes.” The scrapes had become a respite for Archer, physical, real, tangible. But he would not deny the times he woke up with a sore headache and no will to continue subjecting himself to the sport. In fact, each duel ended in the majority of the players in the hospital wing after losing consciousness, but there was no reason to scare away the team’s fresh meat. At worst, he supposed Nico would make for a charming practice target.

“Is it fun?”

“Yes.” That was a question he would never doubt in. The answer was immediate, resolute, decisive. From the friends he had made along the way to the thrill of each competitions, he never quite thought he would admit to enjoyment simultaneous with such a vehement hatred brewed in self-assigned athletic incompetence. Yet with a grin as his eyes scanned the pistes for an ongoing duel Nico could drool over, he affirmed, “Very fun.”

“Are there any banned spells?”

“Yes, and don’t you start learning them.” He shot Nico a glance particularly at that one.

“Is-” He cut himself off. Finally.

Archer chuckled. The rapid fire round of questions had begun to tire him, and his hands found perch on his hips as he turned to the young curiosity, casting his eyes down at him and holding his gaze in prolonged effect. “Listen Nico, just enjoy it okay? Maybe you’ll stand here someday too.” He had found a seat for the two of them amongst the audience, the chairs more strewn with discarded jackets, water flasks, and snacks than observing bodies. Clearing away the disorder, he gestured for Nico to sit, and for the next good twenty minutes, they sat through a mildly amusing, more so tedious dull with poorly conducted spell casting. Yet to Nico, it must have been the most awestruck he had been in his life.

“So, what do you think’s scheduled next on the tour?” Despite the question, Archer was already standing up, striding to the door, and heading down the stairs, trusting that Nico would be fast on his trail as he headed down the staircase towards the library.

@Nico Dawson | banner by Adeline Spinks