Fin Quiet Questions PV Flash

”No, I should be the one begging for forgiveness. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Sylvain swiftly perceived that Holmwood’s contrast in tone meant he was accepting the peace offering overture. He never meant for the peaked youth to become ashamed, and felt paranoid that his tears might have been the source of Flash’s guilt. Sylvian swiftly cleared any remnants of lachryma from his cheeks. The empathic spirit in Sylvain did its best to lift and comfort Flash when the turbulent and grief-stricken actor took off his enraged mask and revealed palpable remorse for his outburst.

”I’ve flown off the handle for nothing at all. You must think terribly of me. I…”

Sylvain hastily nodded in disagreement as he waved his hand dismissively at the concept, ousting the idea that he thought terribly of anyone, let alone someone he had desire to confide in. Sylvain hoped his gesture was enough to signify all that, after all, he didn’t want to interrupt a heart-felt apology with meaningless validation.

In another surprising display of candid emotion and discomfort, Flash’s face seemed distressed, almost as if the lad had done an injury to himself by allowing the outburst to exit him. Sylvain would have comforted his friend no matter what he had admitted to at that point, as he understood how Flash felt even if he didn’t feel that way himself in that moment. Feeling as raw inside as Flash looked on the outside, Sylvain patiently awaited Flash’s next words. Flash’s gaze then rose from his feet to meet Sylvain’s misty fixation.

”I’ll make it up to you. If you’ll have me, I would like to become good friends.” Flash sighed. ”Call me Flash. I prefer that name.”

Their eyes locked as he said those words, and emotion swelled within Sylvain like he had never experienced. Sylvain wanted to laugh, and he did albeit a little nervously. He wanted to sprint out to the courtyard and laugh like all the students who had passed him by without taking notice these recent months. He wanted to race back up the stairs to the Ravenclaw Roost and draft a ludicrously long letter to his mother and tell her all about how he had made a friend, finally! First however, Sylvain needed to accept Flash’s advances and apology.

“Flash, I don’t blame you one bit for being upset. Quite frankly, I would have been just as upset if someone called me by the wrong name. Which was my fault by the way. Truly, I should have asked earlier, we could have avoided this whole mess if I had the courage to say hello. I don’t need you to make it up to me, and you don’t owe me your friendship, but I do accept your apology. If you want to be my friend, then I see no reason we shouldn’t be friends.” Sylvain made sure to pause long enough that Flash understood the two were in agreement, which didn’t take long at all. Their friendship wasn’t in question.

The last thing Sylvain wanted to do now was stir up old feelings about Flash’s misnomer, but it was on the list of things he needed to eventually ask Flash if they wanted to be friends. He had no problem waiting until much later to ask. Here in the Library, the two of them could ask all the quiet questions their minds needed to know the answers to and so long as Flash took his books back on time, the two would get along just fine.

Monday -by Martin Jacoby- Music Link

“Is it that I’m unapproachable?” Sylvain worried, as another bead of cerulean joined his seeping sadness as it flowed from his eyes to the page of the ink blotched parchment the anxious boy had scribbled upon in a moment of frustration. He sat in the Z section tonight, despair and loneliness in his heart. As Sylvain exasperatedly managed to enclose the parchment within its casing, he let out a groan and thunked his head against the table, allowing himself to sob in hopes that he’d find an appetite for happiness sooner. “No, it’s that I don’t approach at all,” he surmised.

This wasn’t the first time he’d dealt with not fitting in, but it was the first time he had admitted it was his own fault. He was finding it painful to do. Flash, Willow, and Alan, the only connections he’d made all year, were all out having fun at the ball. Considering the time he had spent with them, he should’ve easily found himself going with one of them. He just feared the implications, and the massive gathering it brought. Sylvain didn’t need a book to answer the question of whether or not they were having a good time either, of course they were having fun. He wouldn’t hold that against them.

“So why am I sitting here in the library studying, don’t I deserve to have fun?” He mused, the last of the drops of sadness wiped away by the knuckles of his soggy fingers. He ran his hands through his hair, and blinked a few extra times to clear his eyes. As he sat in silence within the peaceful atmosphere of his textbook hideaway, he looked at the shelves he’d been avoiding all year and selected something to read based solely upon the cover. “Zeitgeist, and The Glory of Solitude” As Sylvain skimmed the first two pages he found them riveting, so he pressed further.

It was a fictitious and perhaps cautionary fable of a spirit, who had been torn from time by the process of time itself having moved forward without him. The spirit was forced to constantly watch on alone as the new age of his descendants, friends and acquaintances lived their lives, learning and making progress, falling in love, aging, feeling pain and eventually dying. Zeitgeist had all the while mired in his loneliness. Pained was his heart, desiring only to connect to another person one final time. Never would another feel his sorrow, never would another share his laughter. The thought of having died alone the source of his anguish, the fact of having done so was his reality.

Immeasurable time had passed now, and Zeitgeist had begun to fade. His existence was tattered; his emotional state depraved, but within his darkness a single beacon of hope faintly glimmered. That inner light was last bastion of Zeitgeist, the love he could still have for himself. As the spirit peered deeper inwards, he drew from his own well of love. Although it was not what he had wanted, it was his own love he had needed. He had been too hard on himself through the most miserable of his suffering. When Zeitgeist learned the glory of solitude, and the opportunity it provided to openly love one’s self, he was released from all his worries. Zeitgeist had given up the ghost but still had time to love himself.

By the end of the book, Sylvain had fought through tears of joy for zeitgeist, and the mournful sobbing of self-realization. Boldly, he determined he would not let the message of the book become lost. He needed to be his own friend before he could be friends with anyone else, then he would share the love he had found for himself with others.

“I think I’ll go for a walk.” Sylvain whispered to himself as he set “Zeitgeist, and the Glory of Solitude” back into its corner tucked away within the deepest confines of the library. He went to the lake, thinking that he might admire sunset.

Dated: May 24th, 2020

Hexcode= #507091

It had been kind of a cruddy morning for the young boy. Unintentionally, Sylvain skipped breakfast while he and Charlie figured out today’s riddle. It was a process the two had become quite adept at, but today it cost him his first meal, and Sylvain was always distracted enough as it is. Clutching a grumbling stomach, Sylvain made his way towards the library, first stopping to grab a snack. He couldn’t be expected to study on an empty stomach. Having sated his hunger with a cupcake and some fruit punch, Sylvain made his way into the library. As he made his way, he found his mood perking up.

As was the custom, he stopped to place his request with the librarian before making his way back to the reserved and familiar Q section of Hogwart’s magnificent library. Checking his flash cards, Sylvain noted that he had fallen behind in his magical history studies and quickly adjusted his list of requests. He mused for a moment, curious if Flash might want to study for finals with him and decided to grab an extra book just in case. For all the time the two had spent in the library over the past year, they’d actually studied the same subject very few times. Of course, that was because Sylvain had always had his nose stuck down in some form of Alchemical treatise or potion postulation theorem or, well usually something as heady as what Flash enjoyed reading, but never the same topic as him.

“Here you go,” the seeker of knowledge said as he handed the flash card with his book requests over to the library attendant.

Today’s list included:

The Goblin Rebellions- A summary of the course of events leading up to and after the change of Goblin to sentient being status

An Apprentice’s Guide to Charms- Basic charms for the first year student

A Primer on Magical Flora Native to Scotland- A refresher for young botanists and herbologist

Nophior’s “What it Means to Be a Boar”- A guide to being transmuted and the philosophical issues that arise from being a pig

The last was seemingly always topical to Flash and an intuitive guess on Sylvain's part. He’d seen Flash looking at plenty of transmutation books throughout the year, and Sylvain thought he might recommend this one to him as it dealt with the more philosophical standpoint of being transmuted. Plus, he thought might be a bit of fun scholarly exchange. He really hadn't met anyone that liked to learn as much as himself asides from Flash, so he wanted to continue sharing discoveries.

As he rounded the last of the P’s, he arrived to the comfortable and welcomingly worn down wooden chairs of Q section. Among the seats was the familiar backside of Flash Holmwood. Sylvain was glad that his classmate had sought him out to make amends earlier this month. Sylvain's heart had been heavy with remorse for having not mustered the courage to attend the spring ball, but knowing that someone had cared about his friendship gave him the hope he had needed to overcome his own insecurities. Actually, he’d not cried since, and twenty some days without crying was a new record for the weepy child.

He strode right over to his usual haunt aside Flash, and set his study materials down with a gentle thump. A small smile, just enough to give the impression of happiness, crept across his chin. “Sorry I’m late, tough riddle at the door today, as a result I had to grab a snack.” Sylvain immediately cracked open The Goblin Rebellions and began idly making flash cards from keywords while he waited for Flash to notice the specific book he brought with him. “So,” Sylvain said a bit unsure of what to say to Flash. “How’s it going?”

@Flash Holmwood

Hexcode= #507091

”The Quidditch finals are coming up soon, and a very dear friend of mine, Willow Anderson, is the keeper for the Hufflepuff team. I’ll be attending to cheer her on, so I wanted to make sure you were expecting my absence.Though, perhaps you were thinking of attending as well?”

"Oh!” Sylvain said in exclamation as he remembered Willow Anderson’s connection to Flash. “I know Willow Anderson. She and I cleaned a greenhouse together during an errand we both signed up for on accident.” Sylvain neglected to tell Flash how they’d also shared feelings of homesickness and hugged one another.

“She told me you two had worked together in the greenhouse before.” Sylvain’s eyebrow rose up as he stared at Flash teasingly for a second. “Although she didn’t say much, and I thought it might be rude to ask her about your past, so I stopped asking her questions about the two of you.” He nodded respectfully at Flash.

“Regardless, she said she thinks the two of us will be best friends, so I should probably go and show her my support. If you wanted to go together I can meet up with you before.”

It was then that Sylvain finally understood what Flash had meant about obligations. He had spent this whole time thinking about how convenient friendship would be, he hadn’t considered how much effort it might take to maintain it. His stomach tensed a bit, and he reflexively reached for some of his sweets he had tucked away, but remembered the library rules. Instead, he reached for his books and spread them out in an organized manner.

“Do you have any interest in studying some of these with me?” Sylvain motioned to the neatly organized array of scholarly materials. “I also brought some makeshift Flash cards if you need some help retaining something important. I mostly use them to help with my Latin pronunciations.”

He brought his stack of first year spells to bear. The pad of flash cards was a nice thick stack of over sixteen Latin pronunciations, common mistakes, and helpful root word reminders. Sylvain relished the opportunity to improve his vocabulary and saw value in memorizing the basics.

“Also, this is for you. I read it myself and I took a guess that you would have an interest in Transmutation. This particular book is a unique text because it describes Transmutation from the existential stand point. Hence the title What it Means to Be a Boar. Also, it’s packed with some of the driest humor I’ve ever read. Here look.”

Turning to a referenced page, Sylvain opened with the book’s thesis summary, so that Flash could read it aloud for both of them.

@Flash Holmwood

Hexcode= #507091

It was this day last week that the other students had stopped coming into the library numbers large enough that Sylvain felt compelled to hide in the Q-section. Being honest with himself, he acknowledged that he hadn't felt like hiding much this last month of school anyways. He'd made a satisfactory few acquaintances and smiled wide as the mage was already feeling like a different kid. Sitting right out in the open living like he had nothing to lose, Sylvain's usually large stack of books was dwindled down to a single book. One tome he'd held off all year, a book he didn't want to read.

Even though the deafening silence of the empty shelves and desks, betwixt which not an elf was seen. Have no doubt that they still managed to eavesdrop as always. An immense weight bound Sylvain's shoulders, neck and jaw tight. He thought to himself that it could have been stress, or perhaps even concern for his future. As Flash rounded the corridor, the immense weight on Sylvain's shoulders was bore bearable. Somehow just sight of his quiet companion was enough to lift his spirits and lighten his load. He was quite proud to have made his acquaintance, and even more excited to watch the Quidditch match with him.

Nodding as he closed the book, Sylvain was careful to slide it off the table in a manner that concealed the cover as the jock approached.

"I'm glad you asked," chuckled the wistful pre-teen. "I wanted to ask you the same thing." The corner's of the boys mouth turned up as his eyes creased. Syl was blushing. Sylvain stared curiously as Flash dug through his satchel, a wardrobe decision the lad himself adhered to every day. Beneath some library books, Syvain thought he could see the wrappers for several chocolate frogs. The mere thought of Flash showing him a card made him giddy. Working hard to suppress his glee, Sylvain scooted forward in his chair, placing the book in his lap and propping himself up on his elbow.

Watching as Demetrius finally retrieved the cards from his bag, Sylvain let out an excited giggle. "Chocolate frog cards! Of course" The cards Flash handed over were much different than the cards Sylvain kept for himself. Where as these came straight for the binding of a book where they were kept dry and flat. Syl's collection mostly consisted of cards people had given away. Sylvain was saving his frogs for something, and currently had dozens hidden away beneath his bed. Recognizing most of the characters Sylvain immediately understood why Flash had failed to recognize many of them.

Sylvain let out a giggle to see if Flash was serious, and stopped laughing when he realized Flash wasn't joking. "These were in our lessons, but they weren't assigned to us in any projects so I'm certain you just never read about them." Most of the leisure reading Sylvain witnessed Flash performing was based around philosophy, ideals, and the human condition, so it wasn't very surprising that Flash had forgotten about B78. "That's okay though, I'll tell you about them next year. Maybe you can turn a report on them in for extra credit."

Sylvain handed the cards back to Flash after looking at them. The lad was respectful and gentle when handling his friends property. "I uh, made you something awhile back," Sylvain said while taking a moment to dig through his own satchel. "It's my first attempt at a snake but..." Producing the wet noodle equivalent of a snake shaped bookmark, Sylvain handed the hand-embroidered gift he'd made for Flash. "Sorry it looks more like a bookworm than a snake. I tried." He shrugged smiling back at Flash.

"Any plans for the summer?"

@Flash Holmwood