Rock Skipping and Reading pv jrue

ℬrookline Quinn’s time at Hogwarts was indeed in fact draining if not lonely. Yet, she’d had good times, the times she was able to read and meet new people. Honestly, the Ravenclaw witch would quite rather speak and meet new people then to chat with old pals. She didn’t want them to feel pity for what she was going through. Wet, rainy, and perhaps snowy November came and went, and the Welsh Ravenclaw found herself in her dorm, dozing just a bit, on a late November day after classes.

Once Brookline figured out she could not fall to deeper sleep, she yawned and sat up, with Tigeress at the foot of her bed, with a trampled rodent tucked between the narrow jaws of the kitten.

“Tigeress!” A shrill, strained whisper escaped the young girl’s lips as she stared at the feline in horror. “Get off my bed. Now! Take your disgusting rodent with you.” She was careful to keep her voice to not disrupt Dove, Ophelia’s cat. Ophelia was her dorm-mate, and Dove and Tigeress were like best friends. Brookline presumed Dove and Tigeress play-fight with each other all the time in the dorm while the two Ravenclaws were off during class or really anywhere. @Ophelia Northwell

Socked feet would nudge Tigeress to give her the message that she was not welcome on the bed with that rat. Brookline gasped a silent sigh of relief as Tigeress leaped off the bed in one single motion. She didn’t care if her cat left her prizes around the dorm, (though it was quite disgusting and horrific stepping upon one’s small rodent-like body), yet, Brookline drew the line when Tigeress brought a small bird, or any kind of vermin. Besides, Brookline never fancied dead animal bodies or anything that revolves around death. Not the cold, sickening feeling.

The Welsh Ravenclaw grabbed her book and sweater, hoping to get a little reading in before dinner (even though she wasn’t planning to eat). Before she did go outside, she’d visit her two sisters who were residing here at Hogwarts as well. And, yet, she would frown before she knock on the two first years’ dorms.

Brookline went outside despite the biting cold, in which she brought her warm sweater, and a little cute hat. Marie and Minnie had been spending more time with her, and Brookline was slowly backing up just when Marie made her swear she’d wear the hat when she went outside. She’d roll her blue eyes at the fact that Marie made her swear, because what else was she going to do? Freeze to death? Brookline was old enough to know how long she spent outside in the frigid cold and when to come in. She wasn’t s little, lingering child. And she knew it. She knew it. She was not a child.

The young Quinn did get cold easily, yet, today was a chill day, with little snow dusting on the ground. She’d go to a sturdy tree and sit down, and took this book out that she’d brought. Brookline loved reading yet did not receive as much time to do so. She was always quite busy with her studies, class, sleeping. Eating was just barely in the line in schedule, and she knew she did have some snacks in her trunk, so if she did skip/miss dinner ever once in a while, she could always eat one of those snacks to take the edge of her hunger.

Brookline thought about all this as she stared out at the Great Lake, just wondering how old the lake was. How old the castle was. To her standards, and to be fair, the Hogwarts castle was pretty old, due to all the ghosts and old features. Magic was pretty old, too. She’d turn her own wand in her hand, feeling all the familiar ridges, and just wonder how she became one of the lucky ones to be one with magic and power. Some of those Muggles out there didn’t to discover magic all their lives. Brookline grabbed a pebble, and chucked it in the lake, hoping to make the stone hop across the surface. How much force she’d put in the chuck just made the little stone to sink under the surface. She tried again with a smaller rock, and caused it to skip across the surface three times. This time with a slightly larger pebble, Brookline had skipped it five times. She silently congratulated herself, and went to that tree she had been thinking about. With her book, she slid down the tree with her back, to sit among the treasured roots of this trees. It was very familiar to sit between the oak’s roots.

Brookline took the hat off and turned it around, hoping to see a tag somewhere, to prove that Marie was lying when she said she’d knitted the very hat. She never did find a tag or really anything that was prove her younger sister did knit this very hat. Perhaps Marie was telling the truth that she made it, yet, who the heck taught her? Brookline’s mum didn’t know or neither did Lizy. Maybe a friend or a upperclassmen, yet, Brookline just could not see how the Ravenclaw first year was able to knit such a lovely thing. The Welsh girl had out the hat back on, and sighed.

Brookline opened her book, and a slip of parchment paper slipped out. She narrowed her eyebrows, wondering how the parchment got there. There was some scrawled writing on the slip.

Oh, it was the letter Lizy sent me last week, she thought, and tucked the slip behind the back cover. Brookline then scanned across the words, reading her novel.

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