Watching the Courtyard
Taking off the cool stones bench one by one, Aria reassembled the pieces of the courtyard’s silence by herself. In the middle of the courtyard's stillness, which she had wrapped around her like a soft cloak, she was without a doubt. There were no books and no homework, nor was there a wand visible—only herself, the toned-down afternoon light, and the breath of winter that was meandering over the castle walls.
Aria's eyes coincidentally stopped on the leaves that were falling and rolling on the flagstones. It seemed that the wind was the one that took them up and brought them down by saying that they were very light to choose a place to rest. No one could take the leaves from the ground, which was covered with the dried leaves.
Birdsong came from a long way up where the rafters of the open sky were. A little smile appeared on her face and she tipped her head towards it. The sight was very pleasing that a little flock of sparrows suddenly left the branches of a tree, went up the trunks and flying towards the rooftops. Every noise was not as loud as they used to be—almost like they were muffled—such as the courtyard existed in its own little silent world, apart from the never-ending of hustle and bustle of Hogwarts.
What grabbed her attention the most and kept her looking at it over and over again was the fountain. No water was flowing from the fountain but it was still very beautiful.
The stone pillars looked like they were the ancient statues that guard the place and they are very strong and very still despite the rounded edges that are the result of the weather for the past several hundred years, they go up from the round base and attract one’s eyes. Aria was a bit more than halfway up the fountain; she was peering at the sketches of Hogwarts crests that were right there under the curved roof.
Greenish-yellow moss was going through the grooves of the rock just like the castle itself was starting to store its memory in the surface of it. The four wings on the four sides of the building each had a griffin at their tops, which was the point of her sight. Right next to wings that were at their owners’ sides, the griffins were holding out for them to be opened at any time.
Her imagination prompted the griffins to be doing what they were really making up of—quivering, waking up, growling, blowing off dandruff and dust along with feathers because of the age. She imagined them taking off, flying around the courtyard with a good twist and then coming down again into lifelessness. Now and then some students pass by—talking, laughing, and running to class. She followed them like the sparrows—silent, inquisitive, pondering who they would be and who she would be along with them. It seemed to her that the courtyard was a place where stories started, even for a person sitting alone.
Aria's eyes coincidentally stopped on the leaves that were falling and rolling on the flagstones. It seemed that the wind was the one that took them up and brought them down by saying that they were very light to choose a place to rest. No one could take the leaves from the ground, which was covered with the dried leaves.
Birdsong came from a long way up where the rafters of the open sky were. A little smile appeared on her face and she tipped her head towards it. The sight was very pleasing that a little flock of sparrows suddenly left the branches of a tree, went up the trunks and flying towards the rooftops. Every noise was not as loud as they used to be—almost like they were muffled—such as the courtyard existed in its own little silent world, apart from the never-ending of hustle and bustle of Hogwarts.
What grabbed her attention the most and kept her looking at it over and over again was the fountain. No water was flowing from the fountain but it was still very beautiful.
The stone pillars looked like they were the ancient statues that guard the place and they are very strong and very still despite the rounded edges that are the result of the weather for the past several hundred years, they go up from the round base and attract one’s eyes. Aria was a bit more than halfway up the fountain; she was peering at the sketches of Hogwarts crests that were right there under the curved roof.
Greenish-yellow moss was going through the grooves of the rock just like the castle itself was starting to store its memory in the surface of it. The four wings on the four sides of the building each had a griffin at their tops, which was the point of her sight. Right next to wings that were at their owners’ sides, the griffins were holding out for them to be opened at any time.
Her imagination prompted the griffins to be doing what they were really making up of—quivering, waking up, growling, blowing off dandruff and dust along with feathers because of the age. She imagined them taking off, flying around the courtyard with a good twist and then coming down again into lifelessness. Now and then some students pass by—talking, laughing, and running to class. She followed them like the sparrows—silent, inquisitive, pondering who they would be and who she would be along with them. It seemed to her that the courtyard was a place where stories started, even for a person sitting alone.
Aria Rune Atchison | First Year | Hufflepuff
Normality is a paved road: it’s comfortable to walk but no flowers grow.
Stamina: 4 Evasion: 5 Strength: 5 Wisdom: 7 ArcPower: 9 Accuracy: 5