Exanimate PV S. Sauber

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Rehearsal Room | Banner by Esme Hestridge | All magic is non-verbal and wandless

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Samuel had awoken all before the very first hints of dawn had even dared to creep above the horizon. He was up long before Hogwarts could stir from it's collective slumber, for routine had become so deeply ingrained within the man, that it absence would almost be physically uncomfortable if he was to be a less adjusted man.

There existed no necessity for an alarm, dependence upon enchanted clocks or external reminders. His body had long since been conditioned to obey his schedule with almost a mechanical precision. Today, much like every other day, presented an ever growing list of responsibilities, each carefully catalogued within his mind before either foot had touched the cold stone floor of his quarters. Perhaps a purchase for a rug was in order. Nonetheless, Administrative duties, correspondence, brewing requests, curriculum oversight, departmental paperwork and somewhere among those obligations, a particular student whose prolonged absence from classes had warranted extra attention.

The morning however, belonged to his body long before it belonged to his mind.

Stepping outside into cool predawn air, Samuel began his usual run around the castle grounds, dressed simply in a loose shirt, dark joggers and an expensive pair of running shoes had molded themselves perfectly to his stride. He carried neither water nor food, nor any enchanted supplements to ease fatigue, for endurance wasn't something borrowed from external comforts but cultivated through deliberate deprivation. His parents, for all their abhorrent practices and philosophies, had instilled within him the necessities for success. Giving him a genetic makeup making him an anomaly. Every carefully selected trait, each calculated decision surrounding his upbringing, every expectation forced upon his childhood had produced a body capable of withstanding punishment well beyond ordinary limitations.

Samuel despised nearly everything they represented, yet, refusing to take use of the advantages he'd been provided would have been an inefficiency bordering upon stupidity.

By the time sunrise had begun to stain the distant sky, Samuel had already finished his run, followed shortly with the remainder of his routine. Stretching gave way to weight training, which gave way to mobility work. Once every muscle had been sufficiently taxed, he permitted himself a relaxing hot shower and the wonders of skin care. Fatigue disappeared beneath the steady stream of water, leaving behind the composed exterior Hogwarts and it's residents had grown accustomed to.

His attire reflected much the same style it always had; a pearl-grey linen shirt, cream coloured trousers with no wrinkles, polished brown boots and a silver wristwatch resting on his wrist. Silver-rimmed sunglasses concealed his eyes that only few people had ever been permitted to observe naturally. His folded suit jacked rested neatly across one forearm as he locked his quarters and began walking towards his office. Samuel was mentally restructuring his day's priorities before he'd even reach the first corridor.

The student on his mind came first, or rather the impending conversation with them.

Samuel had learned, though both observation and experience that children were generally easier to reason with during the earlier hours of the day. Their attention remained relatively intact, their patience hadn't yet been exhausted by lessons and whatever emotional turbulence occupied adolescence had not yet accumulated beneath hours of social interaction. Catching Miss Argentum before the remainder of day's distraction consumed them seemed statistically, the most effective course of action.

Unfortunately, reality had little interest in respecting a man's carefully constructed schedule.

One interruption became three, three became ten and then it all snowballed. Administrative documents requiring signatures appeared faster than completed ones could disappear. Staff sought clarification, students approached him with disputes so astonishingly insignificant that Samuel occasionally wondered whether they genuinely believed he possessed both the authority and specifically the inclination to mediate arguments over missing textbooks, stolen quills or pulled hair. Becoming Professor of Potions had already represented a drastic deviation from the life Samuel had imagined for himself.

Becoming Head of House had introduced an entirely separate occupation altogether, one that demanded interpersonal involvement at a frequency he had neither anticipated nor one he particularly enjoyed.

It was almost as if the children collectively believed him responsible for solving every inconvenience that entered their lives.

Remarkably, however, the House had remained peaceful. No serious injuries or catastrophes in recent times. Surprising more, no scandals demanding Ministry intervention. Considering Slytherin's historical reputation, Samuel regarded that achievement with quiet satisfaction. Children deserved stability and peace regardless of whether they appreciated its existence. And if maintaining that stability required several hours each day to problems beneath his intellectual capabilities, then so be it.

Eventually, the long queue of paperwork ceased long enough for him to revisits the task postponed since dawn.

Miss Valour Argentum.

Unlike the more predictable of the troublemakers inhabiting his house, Valour's absence carried weight precisely because it contracted the established behavioural patters the child had previously displayed. Students inclined towards rebellion skipping lessons rarely warranted investigation beyond standard disciplinary procedures. Students burdened by expectations however, particularly those imposed by family, generally deviated from routine when a substantial shift had occurred beneath the surface in their lives. Samuel understood the burdens. Expectations possessed remarkable weight, though he himself had never permitted them to bend his resolve.

Preparation, as always, preceded action.

Samuel maintained records—not official ones, but mental catalogues of all students, painstakingly assembled over months of observation. Habits, interests, preferred locations, social circles, strengths, weakness. All information that carried value independent of immediate application. One never knew when seemingly insignificant details might becomes useful. Valour's affinity for music, particularly rehearsal rooms had elevated the location to top of his list.

The decision proved correct almost immediately. Before reaching the doorway, he heard the unmistakable sound of violin. It couldn't be quite described as music, best to note it as attempts at music. Notes fractured by hesitation, rhythm collapsing beneath inconsistent technique and repeated interruptions. It was as if though concentration itself had become impossible to sustain. Samuel paused only briefly outside before entering with no announcement, immediately finding the source of dissonance before him.

The room itself remained largely unchanged, but the occupants clearly hadn't enjoyed the same fortune. He observed silently as Valour directed frustrations towards the violin case with repeated kicks, each movement carrying less force than previous until exhaustion inevitably overtook whatever emotion had fuelled their outburst. Painting lining the rehearsal room bore witness to the scene as quietly as Samuel did.

Without a word, he lifted a hand. The soft snap of his fingers echoed through the room.

The enchanted portraits, apparently deciding elsewhere offered greater entertainment, vacated their frames one after another until only empty canvases remained. Privacy, though not requested, occasionally proved necessary.

Samuel withdrew a neatly folded handkerchief from his pocket as he extended it towards the student. Simultaneously, his eyes made the smallest of movements as a chair accio'd itself to Valour.

The chair slid quietly across the floor, stopping a respectful distance away.

"Sit."

The instruction arrived calmly, without force or impatience, sounding less like an order and more a practical recommendation. His attention shifted briefly towards the damaged violin case lying abandoned upon the floor.

He cast a reparo as the crack running through its structure sealed almost instantly, fractured wood knitting itself together until little evidence remained of the earlier abuse. Samuel retrieved the restored case before placing it carefully nearby, handling the instrument within with noticeably greater care than the object itself had recently received.

For a brief moment, he regarded the violin thoughtfully.

Then, absentmindedly, he lifted it. Years had passed since he last held one. His father played, a trait his mother liked in him. Still, among the countless observations Samuel retained from childhood existed fragments of melodies she repeated often enough that even someone with no formal musical education could eventually reproduce them. The tune that followed was both elaborate and technically impressive. Soft, restrained and a familiar tune that lasted a minute or two before he lowered the instruments once more and returned them precisely where he had found it.

Only then did Samuel finally address the reason for his visit.

"Miss Argentum," he began evenly, resting both hands lightly atop the back brace of the chair. "I imagine you possess a general understanding of why I intended to speak with you today. However, judging by your present circumstances, I do not believe continuing that discussion now would benefit either of us."

His gaze remained steady behind his silver-rimmed sunglasses.

"You appear rather indisposed."

"There is little value in conducting important conversations while either participant lacks the capacity to engage with them properly."

He inclined his head ever so slightly. "Please collect yourself, attend your remaining lessons where possible and meet me in my office after lunch. Your attendance record would benefit considerable from no longer declining."

A small pause followed.

"If I have not yet returned when you arrive, make yourself comfortable inside. I shall join you shortly."

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────