O Delphic Apollo! pv: Damien Dragonclaw

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ As the sun’s rays chased away the clouds, revealing the glorious sky, May arrived. Though such symbols of new hope and blossoming beginnings should have brought catharsis to one’s heart, instead, its fiery rays and golden light took on the colors of a bloody murder. Long, stretched shadows made you feel smaller and weaker than you were, looming so intimidatingly overhead that a shiver would occasionally run down your spine. Sunsets stalked you from just above the open windowsill, their eyes fixed on the soul of their target, anchoring them and robbing them of any sleep they had hoped to catch in the dorm before the sun disappeared. The presence was so demanding and forsaken that it filled Sebastien with disdain, making him want only to hide from it.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ How strange it was that just about a month ago, he had drunk in the sun with greed when it first graced the sky in its gilded frames and shapes of rays. With little hesitation, he had set out on a trip to Hogsmeade. Yet now, as it grew cocky, nearing the start of summer, it agitated him with how much of the day it demanded. More and more, he hid in the shadows of the library, in the coldness of the books, comforted by the lack of joyful smiles and the approaching hot breeze. The books served as a peculiar kind of sun umbrella, shielding him from the heat – the kind captured in the pictures hanging in his home’s living room.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ No matter how hypocritical he had been – hence his wandering to Hogsmeade when the sun had just risen – now that it stayed out much longer, he no longer cared and spent his days as he preferred.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Just as life enjoyed playing tricks on people for its own amusement, his Herbology professor seemed to share that enjoyment. Some kind of homework was assigned to the first years: to find and present an animal or plant that inhabited the Great Lake, describe its lifestyle, diet, and other details Sebastien failed to see any future use for.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Still, he was not someone who took homework lightly. It was the very end of the school year, so how could he give up and let his grades slip when the goal was so close? Of course, he planned to complete it, as he did not want to be scolded for neglecting his work, especially since he hoped to return to Hogwarts next year.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ And the latter had indeed been true – as much as he disliked admitting it, he had actually made it through the whole Hogwarts year, and it was just fine. Much better than he had expected, in fact! He hated being proved wrong or having predicted something incorrectly, but this was possibly the best outcome the predicament could have taken. Perhaps the boy was even excited for next year, though that was a strong word; maybe anxious would have been more fitting. It was certainly a mystery what more Hogwarts held for his upcoming years here, and it was no secret: Sebastien enjoyed mysteries.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ On that day, with a notebook of parchment pages sewn together diligently by some luxurious seller from Morocco tucked under his arm, along with a book he was currently reading, which he stacked with the notebook in case his marble-pale skin began longing for the sun and he wanted to stay by the creek longer to read, he made his way out of the castle. The boy dressed in his house robes; he wore nothing special for warm weather to protect himself from the heat, unlike other children who substituted their pants for shorts. He walked along a path made by the scurrying feet of students and grass that, over time and many footsteps following the same pattern leading up to the lake, had learned to stray away and grow around the dry dirt now deemed a path.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ It led down the small hills, and it was not long before the boy reached the creek, as it tilted tidily next to the castle. Even though it was the weekend and many students spent their time on the Hogwarts grounds, the advantage of the vast area surrounding the Hogwarts castle was that everyone was fairly scattered, with no sense of being awkwardly crowded or too close to others for his liking – a feeling that followed Sebastien in more places than he would have preferred. He found a spot by the lake, under a tree that offered him much-needed shade to hide from the sun. He sat against the tree, dropping his notebook and book by his right side, and rested in silence for a moment as he gazed ahead, watching the running students in his peripheral vision, the rippling lake, and the warm, gentle wind rustling through the grass.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ At one point, as he briefly took in the breathtaking view that surrounded Hogwarts, he thought he saw something move – something orange and sly in the grass, over by the path he had walked moments before. It might have been just a trick of the eye, something he should have grown used to after years of strange figures seeming to follow him. Naturally, he paid it no mind, and his gaze returned to the lake as he remembered he needed to get to work – the real reason he had dragged himself out of the comforting cold of the castle and into the rising heat of the grounds.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ He made his way the short distance from the tree to the shore of the lake, where the ground sloped down and finally sank into the water, carrying the notebook in his hand and leaving his book beneath the tree, as none of the groups of students on the grounds seemed to be approaching him. He knelt on one knee, sacrificing his right knee to the damp mud of the lake bank, and leaned down to see if any plants were visible from where he knelt, though the lake’s surface was so dark and mysterious that it was nearly impossible to see what lay beneath the gentle waves.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ He took a quill from his shirt pocket, which he always carried in case he needed to take notes, and a small ink sample vial he had gotten last September in Diagon Alley when he bought the very quill he now held from a corner quill shop. He wanted to start taking notes, at least to write the prompt for the class presentation, but as he struggled to balance everything in his hands, the sample vial slipped and plumped quietly into the calm water. Soon, the ink spread and formed a night-black puddle within the already dark water. Destruction was never his intention, to bring upon anything or anyone deliberately, but unfortunately, it seemed to happen to all that followed in his wake.

dialogue ; #0a0a07 / #807a60 word count ; 1138/200 mention ; @Damien Dragonclaw