The calm after the storm PV Draven Mirador

A restless sort of energy ran through Draven like a live wire, sending the boy into uncomfortable twitches. In the short time it had taken him to walk from the castle to the forest, his fingers had gone numb from the cold. Perhaps it was the coffee. Perhaps he'd simply reached the end of his rope after four nights spent staring unseeingly at his ceiling. Either way, he needed a break from the hustle and bustle of the castle. He'd checked the courtyard first, laziness prompting him to retreat to the closer hideaway. Unfortunately, everyone and their mom had picked that Saturday to crowd in his favorite spot.

So there he was.

Dog-eared copy of The Neverending Story tucked underneath one arm, wand in the other, trekking across the school grounds. After a couple minutes spent shoulder-deep within his bag, he'd managed to fish out the Robe of Warmth and wiggle into it. Admittedly, looking for it before he'd stepped outside would have been a better idea. In his defense, he hadn't expected the bitter September wind to bite quite that hard, nor the coat to be so annoying to find.

With each step, magic at work within the seams of the cloak was returning warmth to him. It was a pleasant sort of heat - just enough to combat the cold without being uncomfortable. He'd never gotten sweaty with this coat on - the same couldn't be said for a majority of muggle winter clothing. He liked it too- navy blue with crimson lining and a white fur collar. It was the most color he'd worn in...well-, at least a couple of years.

Feeling had just about returned to his hands when he slipped into the clearing. It was a neat little spot, lush vegetation exploding in shades of emerald and verdant. Wild flowers bloomed, glimmers of blue and orange peaking from beneath giant leaves. Some of the plants shone with a light of their own, various butterflies fluttering about them.

Draven took a deep breath, letting the scent of petrichor wash over him. Deimos twitched from inside his hair, clambering down his back and launching himself at one of the pixies circling Draven. The tiny creature screamed, going down like a stone.

Draven raised an eyebrow, watching the vicious fight to the death for a second before continuing on his way. There was a patch of mint he liked to poach just on the other side of the clearing, and-

He stopped, heavy steel-toed boot snapping a branch and attracting the attention of several more pixies.

Beside his patch of mint sat none other than Mylo Atkins, nose buried inside a book. Draven couldn't make out the cover from there, but the boy was very clearly engrossed in the contents. The wizard paused. He liked the guy, though he didn't know him all that well. But assuming Mylo was there to get away from people-

Unfortunately, his appearance hadn't gone unnoticed. Be it the screaming pixie behind him, the broken branches, or his overall colorful clothing, Mylo's gaze flickered up. Draven froze, body poised between going and staying.

-----

Dad

-----

Pa

Andrea

-----

Interacting with @Draven Mirador	Date - 27/09/25
WC 402/200	Color Legend - Mylo | BSL | Thoughts

The sounds of nature around them had become a great soundtrack to the story Mylo had found themself engrossed in, and in the short time he had been here they had managed to speed through quite a few of the chapters, the mystery slowly unfolding and leaving Mylo with more questions than when he started.

As he started on a new chapter another sound was added to the soundtrack though, as from the edge of the clearing Mylo heard a branch snap which often only meant one thing, that someone or something had decided to come and join them in their favourite spot.

Looking up at where he had heard the sound originate from Mylo spotted a familiar face, wearing what Mylo thought might be a robe of warming making him realise that it was indeed a slightly bit colder than it had been for a while outside. Although this was something that didn't bother him, especially as they had decided to wear one of their favourite jumpers which was deceptively warm.

It had seemed like Draven had seen that Mylo had noticed them, and although Mylo wasn't the best at reading others they did notice him freeze slightly. And thinking that Draven was likely deciding on what their next course of action would be, as that would be exactly what Mylo would do in this case, Mylo decided to take in on themselves to initiate a conversation. The Slytherin had come here for a reason and Mylo didn't want to have him feel like he had to leave.

As the only other time they had met both of them had been using sign language Mylo wasn't quite sure if Draven preferred one over the other, so deciding to play it safe they put their bookmark in between the pages he was reading, closed the book, put it down in their lap and started signing to Draven. They weren't fluent but could hold a decent conversation, which came in very handy in these types of situations.

"You can come sit if you want, there's plenty of space. I don't know if you prefer BSL or spoken English though, so we can talk in either, or not at all." They mentioned, not wanting to force the boy to speak if he didn't want to but wanting to let him know that Mylo was more than happy to share their favourite spot with others.

ABILITIES | STATS
Perfectionist | Wandmaker [Dragonheart, Elm wood] | Calming presence
sta • 8 | eva • 7 | str • 5 | wis • 10 | arc • 7 | acc • 8

Code by Ara Villa

Mylo set their book down, sliding a bookmark between the pages. They regarded him curiously, taking in his tense, awkward position with a slight grin. 'Sit,' they signed, gesturing towards the ample space around them.

Draven felt the knot in his stomach loosen a little. He hadn't wanted to leave- deserted spaces in the castle were few and far between, and looking for another was a task all on its own. 'Thank you,' he signed. A couple of Mylo's gestures were odd- a mixture of BSL and ASL perhaps? His brows knitted together. Mylo had the hand movements right, but without the facial expressions to tie them together, following his string of thought was difficult.

'BSL', Draven signed, his hand sliding smoothly in the shape of a 'b', followed by 'sign'. He wasn't exactly sure of the differences between the two dialects, but he only understood one with any degree of confidence. The Americans, ever the pioneers of making things difficult, had developed their own signs.

'You no cold?' Draven carefully made his way towards Mylo, keeping his signs slow and clear. Reaching into his bag, the wizard pulled out a pair of Muggle gloves. They weren't great, one-size-fits-most, made from a dull gray fabric which advertised itself as 'touch sensitive'- cost him a pound-fifty at the general store, and was about as 'touch-sensitive' as a rock. But they were better than nothing. 'Take,' he signed.

A tiny foam square followed the gloves, set on the ground beside Mylo. He didn't like washing grass stains off his clothes. 'You read what?' he asked, raising his eyebrows and peering curiously at the cover. He didn't recognize the series, though that didn't mean much. There was a lot he hadn't stumbled across. 'My favorite book bring,' he held up The Neverending Story.

It was clearly well-loved, with bits of the printed cover worn away by the sun and time. The pages were yellowed, a tattered bookmark hanging loosely from inside. Calling it a bookmark was a stretch in any sense of the word, really. It was a pamphlet a Jehovah's Witness had forced him to take three years before, used out of convenience rather than sentimentality.

-----

Dad

-----

Pa

Andrea

-----

Interacting with @Draven Mirador	Date - 27/09/25
WC 699/200	Color Legend - Mylo | BSL | Thoughts

Their invitation had been received in good faith, as Draven signed a thank you and made his way over to where Mylo had decided to sit. They were happy that they hadn't managed to scare the other student away, as they realised that their invitation had maybe been slightly over the top if Draven had come here for some peace and quiet.

Although at least it would stay quiet as Draven had signed BSL, meaning that if they did decide to talk it would all be in sign, and although Mylo could hold a decent conversation it would not be very good. They knew that sometimes they messed up a few of the signs and forgot important facial expressions which meant that their meaning was lost, which didn't help.

It seemed like Draven had picked up on this fact though, as he made sure to keep his signs slow and clear making it exponentially easier for Mylo to understand, he even thought that if Draven signed slightly quicker he'd still be able to understand it with how clear the boy's signs were.

Before they could really answer his question though Draven was holding out a pair of gloves for them to take, and although Mylo wasn't that cold they also knew that it was better to prevent than to cure. They also just flat out couldn't refuse such a kind gesture and accepted the gloves with a small smile, signing a thank you to Draven and slipping the gloves onto their hands. Them being deceptively warm and comfy, which Mylo appreciated at this point in time.

As they did so the Slytherin took out a foam mat similar to his own and sat down beside them, seeming interested in the book Mylo had been reading. Following it up by holding up their own book they had brought, it seemed well loved going by the worn cover and the fact that - if Mylo had understood his signs correctly - he mentioned it being his favourite book.

Deciding how best to describe the Magicians guild Mylo took a second to think, trying not to give away any spoilers in case Draven wanted to read it himself. Signing slowly to try and avoid mistakes he made an attempt.

"Kind of like Hogwarts? Girl can do magic but does not want to go to the ...." not knowing the word for guild he stumbled a bit, and decided to try and finger spell it hoping that that got the message across. "people who also do magic. She's on the run. First book is her trying to not be found. Fun book." he signed, hoping that that was a sufficient explanation but also offering Draven the book so that he could read the blurb for himself, probably getting a better feeling about what it was about.

Taking another look at Dravens book Mylo again took a second to formulate what they wanted to say, as although they personally hadn't read the neverending story he had heard of it but was very curious about the story.

"What about that, why your favourite?" Wanting to know why the book had been so well loved by the look of it, if Draven was willing to share. He also noticed that he couldn't spot the spider, that Mylo assumed was Draven's pet called Deimos - if he had remembered correctly, anywhere. He had a feeling though that Draven had brought him as although Mylo hadn't known him long Deimos seemed like the type of pet to enjoy just hitching a ride everywhere reminding him of his own cat Ash.

They knew that a spider could very likely take care of themself, but was still slightly worried even if it wasn't warranted as he wouldn't be surprised if the pixie screams they had heard earlier were from Deimos and pixies could be vicious.

"You bring Deimos?" He asked, finger spelling his name as they couldn't quite remember the spiders sign name. Adding on a "He okay? Pixies angry." Not knowing the sign for pixies either and once again finger spelling, they would be very good at that after their conversations, and just hoping that they were worrying about nothing.

ABILITIES | STATS
Perfectionist | Wandmaker [Dragonheart, Elm wood] | Calming presence
sta • 8 | eva • 7 | str • 5 | wis • 10 | arc • 7 | acc • 8

Code by Ara Villa

'Pixies dead,' Draven snorted, glancing towards the source of distressed voices. Deimos was a lady. He didn't start fights, but he certainly finished them.

And speak of the devil, there was the spider, scuttling forward, covered in blue blood and chewing on a severed pixie leg. He gave Mylo a self-satisfied look, clearly having heard their exchange. Draven wrinkled his nose, digging through his bag. Out came a packet of wet wipes (Animal Safe! the pack claimed in gaudy pink writing). Deimos picked up one of the wet wipes with a foot and began half-assedly cleaning himself off.

'First muggle book,' Draven signed, returning his attention to Mylo. 'past read only wizard book.' Two pounds at the thrift, practically new aside from the yellowed pages. Draven couldn't understand why anyone would part with it.

Fidgeting with the strap of his bag, Draven made himself more comfortable in his spot. The tension in his jaw was slowly disappearing. Where before it had been snapped shut, teeth grinding into one another, now Draven found himself unconsciously unclenching. Odd. The pain in his temples was diminishing, fading away with each second he spent beside Mylo.

'You healer?' Draven signed, raising his eyebrows. 'Migraine go away'.

His whole body had relaxed, actually- Flipping his book open, Draven closed his eyes. The knot in his stomach had practically vanished, and his hands were no longer trembling. Perhaps for the first time in a year, he found himself able to hold his book without propping it up on something. The tremors running through him like a live wire were gone.

He'd heard of wizards like that. Those with the uncanny ability to put those around them at ease without even trying. It was an innate trait- it could be learned, but most were born with it. Waves of calm seemed to radiate from Mylo, embedding themselves in Draven's bones and snuffing out intrusive thoughts, tics, and wandering impulses.

It's so quiet.

Merlin. It was almost intoxicating, the peace. His breath came easier. Whatever horrible, clawed thing had taken to sitting atop Draven's chest and sticking its dirty nails into his skin had wandered off, silencing the static he'd been listening to on a loop for longer than he could remember.

Experimentally, Draven stretched out. Long, slender limbs cracked, shirt riding up to expose a strip of pale skin. Nothing hurt. Nothing. Hurt.

Merlin.

He needed to spend more time with Mylo. Needed to find people like the wix, and stick to them like a burr.

-----

Dad

-----

Pa

Andrea

-----

Interacting with @Draven Mirador	Date - 27/09/25
WC 607/200	Color Legend - Mylo | BSL | Thoughts

It seemed like Mylo's concern for the small arachnid was unwarranted, as Draven's snorted response and the sight of Deimos making his way back to the two students while happily chewing on a pixie leg made it known that Deimos likely wasn't known for ever really being in danger.

It was also quite entertaining to see Deimos clean himself off with the wet wipe that Draven got out of his bag, Mylo was very happy to see the animal safe claim on the front of the packaging, obviously the spider didn't mind being dirty as it seemed he was doing it more to avoid Draven doing it for him or being told to do it better, as Mylo could see quite a few spots he had missed.

Snapping his attention back to Draven as he started to explain why the Neverending story was his favourite book Mylo was brought back to the reality that he was in a magical society. All of the books he had ever read had been muggle books, as they had grown up muggle and didn't have access to the wizarding society. It also made Mylo realise they hadn't really been reading any wizarding literature besides from the informational books they had been going through at a rate of knots, could you blame them though? The wizarding world was fascinating and if they were going to live in it for the rest of their life he had to know what to expect and the history.

But knowing that there was wizarding fiction out there left Mylo curious as to what that would look like, it was honestly surprising this hadn't crossed their mind before, as a lot of muggle fiction was about magic and now that that was a reality what would fantasy look like?

An idea forming Mylo quickly thought of the words, "Any fun ones? I never read wizard fiction." they asked, not knowing the word for fiction so finger spelling it.

It also seemed like Draven was getting more comfortable sitting next to Mylo, which he was very happy about as the Slytherin had seemed a bit tense at the beginning of their conversation. Mylo didn't anticipate the cause of Draven's comfort to be seen as himself though, as Draven asked if Mylo was a healer, mentioning his headache going away.

Mylo knew a singular healing spell, so he highly doubted that they had somehow learnt wandless and nonverbal magic and cast a healing spell on Draven without themself even knowing. "No... Maybe fresh air?" Mylo signed, knowing that whenever they were sick his parents always told them to get some fresh air as it would help. Although whatever the cause of the sudden lack of migraine was Mylo was glad that Draven wasn't in pain anymore.

Watching as Draven opened his book Mylo followed in his steps, going to read their own book as well. But not before noticing Draven getting even more comfortable, stretching and seemingly very surprised at that fact. Although Mylo had no idea what could be the cause of the surprise they were happy that the Slytherin hadn't been scared off at the beginning of their conversation.

The sound of the wind rustling the pages of his book pulled Mylo's attention to the fact that they had gotten lost in their thoughts as to why the boy would be surprised at being able to stretch, and made him realise he had accidentally been staring. Not wanting to seem rude they quickly averted their gaze and focussed on his book again, a content smile on their face as they were happy that Draven was seemingly happy.

ABILITIES | STATS
Perfectionist | Wandmaker [Dragonheart, Elm wood] | Calming presence
sta • 8 | eva • 7 | str • 5 | wis • 10 | arc • 7 | acc • 8

Code by Ara Villa

Any good wizard fiction, Mylo was asking.

He frowned. Most of the wizarding books he'd read were practical. Pureblood registries, philosophy, guides and spells. An autobiography or seven. He wasn't sure any wizarding book he'd read could qualify as 'fiction' in the true sense of the word- it was what made muggle books so appealing.

Instead of the universal laws of magic, they'd created their own systems for the supernatural. Bizzare and quirky, and almost correct, their magical systems were built around elements or deities.

No. Draven couldn't think of any wizarding book that qualified as 'fiction'. But he wasn't particularly well-read or smart.

Magical Me, he signed at last. He finger-spelled the author's name slowly.

G - I - L - D - E - R - O- Y　 L - O - C - K - H - A - R - T

It was certainly...fictional, if nothing else.

They settled into comfortable silence. The sounds of the forest took over before long. Birds sang high above their heads, perched on the branches of tall pines. A couple paces away, a small creek babbled.

Draven played with the pages of his book absentmindedly as he read. He knew the words so well he could recite them by that point, could predict the next sentence. But reading them again brought him comfort regardless.

Time trickled by lazily. Seconds turned to minutes. Sunlight caressed the two wizards, painting them gold and ivory. Deimos went to work on a web, silky black thread taking over the inside of a hollow log. A couple fireflies met their end that way.

Minutes formed half an hour.

Then, an hour.

It had grown warm enough that Draven could shimmy out of the Robe, folding into a tight square and setting it under his head like a pillow. Occasionally, he would glance at Mylo. There weren't many people who'd be content to just- read together. It was nice.

It took him much to long to notice the light. In his defense, it was sitting perfectly still, hidden in the shadows of a fallen tree. The only indication it was there were two shining spots. They glinted at the corner of Draven's eye, so subtly at first, he'd thought he was hallucinating them.

When he looked up, they blinked away. He shifted uncomfortably, chalking them up to imagination.

The second time he caught them, they were closer.

Draven stiffened up, blinking slowly and deliberately. They vanished in an instant. Imagining things. He was imagining things.

Shaking his head like a dog as if it would clear the thoughts, Draven forced himself to pay attention to his book again. If it was something noteworthy, he had no doubt it would announce itself before long. And he didn't need to look crazy otherwise.

───────────────────────────────

───────────────────────────────

XXXXX𝓣heir question about magical fiction was quickly answered, a title and name unfamiliar to Mylo being slowly finger spelled by his reading partner. They were happy that Draven had picked up on their level of signing abilities and wasn't spelling at the speed of light, as they had met a few people whom he had had to ask several times to repeat themselves, Mylo only having caught the first letter of the word and nothing else.

Rummaging around in their bag Mylo produced a small notebook and a pen, writing down the name and title that they had been given, wanting to make sure they wouldn't forget it once they had time to check it out. They were very curious to see what kind of story Draven had recommended them, wondering what would classify as fiction in a world full of magic.

Putting away the written reminder Mylo turned to the older boy. "Thank you, I will look for it later." Making a mental note that they would have to make a detour past the library to see if they had a copy of the book.

As the conversation seemed to come to a natural lull Mylo picked up his book again, not wanting to disturb the comfortable atmosphere that had fallen over the clearing, and continued where they had left off, watching as Draven did the same.

Time seemed to flow differently as the two sat in comfortable silence, the only signs that it was actually passing being that the air started to warm ever so slightly and that the sun was gradually making it's way across the sky, creating different shadow patterns on the ground that had more than once caught Mylo's attention as they tried to figure out which pictures they could see in the darkened patches. The increase in warmth had more than once prompted Mylo to take off the gloves that had so generously been offered to them, however each time they had done so the startling difference in temperature had led them to quickly putting them back on. It had indeed warmed up, however they had gotten so used to the feeling of their hands being covered and a few degrees warmer that the change in texture and feeling was more uncomfortable than keeping them on.

Draven didn't seem to have the same issue as he had decided to take his coat off, probably due to the fact that it was fuelled by magic and thus generated more heat than the gloves did, using it to prop up his feat instead of staving off the cold of the September air.

After an undetermined amount of comfortable silence Mylo got to the end of another chapter, having found themselves at a slower part of the book, and glanced over at their reading buddy. As they did so they saw that his attention had been caught by something at the edge of the clearing, clearly thinking nothing off it though as he shook his head and returned his attention back to his book.

Training his sight to where Draven had been looking just a second ago Mylo couldn't really see anything, however whatever must have occupied the space had either left or hidden back into the shadows. Not wanting to leave the weird feeling out in the open though Mylo decided to put it into words, turning their attention back to Draven and waving his hand in his line of sight to get the Slytherins attention.

"You okay?"

date ; 27/09/2025 mentions ; @Draven Mirador actions ; languages ; speaking — bsl — thoughts Grounds ; location 582 ; wordcount ; ooc notes dad — pa — andrea ; family 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐎𝐍, 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑 ; 𝓯𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓶 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷. xx

xx

───────────────────────────────

───────────────────────────────

A jerky motion at the corner of Draven's field of vision wrenched his eyes away from the book. The Slytherin looked up at his compatriot, who'd closed their book and was looking at him intently. They waved their hand, words taking shape in the air. 'Are you okay?' he signed, eyebrows raising slightly.

Draven paused, his eyes flying over to the fallen tree. The entity, whatever it was, hadn't returned. 'Thought I saw something,' Draven signed uncertainly, glaring at the darkness as if it would make it pull back and reveal the creature.

No such thing happened.

'Trick of the light,' Draven signed, though his movements were slow and uncertain. Hair had stood up on the back of his neck, goosebumps prompted by a vicious gust of wind crawling up his cheeks. His eyes darted back to the tree. But nothing budged. Not a leaf rustled, or a branch snapped. There was just...nothing.

He was going crazy.

Fatigue. Stress. Withdrawal. The whole nine yards. One of them had to explain the wild hammering against his ribs, and the sense of dread quickly taking over. There was nothing there. There was nothing there at all. His grandfather's famous delusions were inching closer. Soon, he'd end up like the old man - unable to stave them off by himself, dependent on potions for any sense of peace. It was in his genes, a blood curse that had skipped his father and landed squarely on his shoulders. Draven shifted uncomfortably, stretching out. His shoulders rolled back, his wrists snapped.

His gaze returned to Mylo, who was looking at him with a twinge of concern.

Perhaps, Draven thought, Mylo should have been more worried about themselves. Then they would have noticed the niffler inching closer through the grass. Its beady eyes were locked onto the zipper of Mylo's boots. All at once, Draven felt the tension go out of him like air from a popped balloon. 'Look down,' he signed, lips quirking up in a smile. He'd been expecting a snake or a badger, or a particularly small forest raco. A niffler was a nice surprise. Thoughts of thestrals or centaurs, as ridiculous as they were, had popped up as well. Thankfully, this was a much less dangerous creature.

It was a raggedy, sickly little thing. Tufts of fur were missing from its coat, and one of the creature's paws dragged behind it. And yet, it advanced. Draven wasn't sure what purpose the zipper possibly could serve. How a niffler could use a zipper, why it wanted it over food, or why it was taking such great pains to disguise itself.

Slowly but surely, it approached Mylo. The wix still hadn't noticed it, and it was taking full advantage. Flattening its black body against the fallen leaves, using shadows to disguise itself as it moved forward quietly. It was so close Mylo could have picked it up if he so wished.