Don't Bother Me PV Charles Wolfssegner closed

It was its reputation as the “abandoned bathroom” that led Charles to believe it was the best hiding spot available to get away from a handful of students who were looking for him. He didn’t mean to call her ugly, neither should he had fixed himself to say unsightly or mousy either; he just couldn’t find the word to describe her obnoxious, squeaky voice. Charles knew better than to bother the second-years, but the girl’s constant chittering felt like nails on a chalkboard. Now he’s running from her, along with the cohorts she dragged with.

Using his very superficial intuition, the realized that the disgusting bathrooms were definitely no place for a girl (despite the fact that he, ironically, decided to run into the girl’s bathroom). His theory was proved right when the angry mob quickly shuffled past, letting Charles sigh with relief as he rested his back against the door.

It was only about five to ten minutes before he heard another pair of footsteps, resulting in the young boy scrambling across the floor to hide on top of one of the toilet seats of the stalls. He was able to carefully close the flimsy, wooden door before walked in another peer. He couldn’t tell who it was, not until he heard the other speak.

”Hello?”

“Ah...” , Charles thought to himself, “Its just another boy...”

It took a second for him to have a mental double-take. A boy? Here? Of all places? There was certainly no business that Charles knew of for a boy to find himself in these foul, grimy bathrooms (but then again, why is he himself there?) Before he could think of a reason, the other boy spoke once more, his voice more stern than the last.

“Anyone in here?”

The voice sent chills down Charles’ spine. Whoever this is, they obviously want to be left alone right now. ”Well, perhaps he doesn’t need to know that I’m here...” continued Charles, “but a peak wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

Pressing his hand gently on the stall door, he attempted to peer at the stranger in front of the mirror. All of a sudden, his hairs stood on end when he heard a violent hiss, startling the boy and making him flinch. The door began to open with a loud, eerie creak, revealing a small boy in Hufflepuff attire. His eyes wide in fright as he lifted one hand and smiled.

“H-Hey there.”

November 8, 2020
outfit | shoes

English
Parseltongue

[font=times new roman]At the sound of the door clicking open, Wyatt whipped out his wand from his pocket and held it up to the height at where his own eyes would be, before realizing it was a first year before him. Wyatt lowered his wand (only a little bit, the first year wasn’t a lot shorter than Wyatt) so it was in between the Hufflepuff’s eyes. After a second, Wyatt lowered his wand completely and set it back in his pocket.

He did always have a soft spot for badgers, but that didn’t mean this one would get off too easy. Wyatt’s black eyes met the other boy’s light brown ones. This was an intimidation tactic Wyatt used, and it worked best with first-years. Hmmm. Who knew eye contact could be so frightening aside from… anxiety reasons. Speaking of anxiety, Wyatt was dying. Mentally, but dying all the same. Not really, but you get it.

He’d gone for quite a bit (since the Hanako incident) without anyone finding out about his ability, and now this little dirtbag came around to mess it all up. Of course, Wyatt had to blame himself. He was the idiot here, but so was the kid in his own little, stupid way, right? Wyatt asked twice if anyone was in the abandoned bathrooms and the idiot refused to speak up. So it was entirely the badger’s fault!

The little kid had the audacity to speak. Wearing the most awkward smile and the widest eyes, the boy peeped, “H-Hey there!” Wyatt wore a tight frown, furrowed brows, and a fixed gaze that could burn a hole right through someone. A gazed locked onto the other boy’s eyes. “I asked twice in anyone was in here,” Wyatt began slowly through clenched teeth. His fists were balled up like he could swing a punch at any second.

“And I got no response both times,” the Slytherin continued. “I always thought Gryffindor was the dumbest house but obviously I was mistaken, you sorry excuse for a Hufflepuff.” Wyatt remembered that was the same thing he’d said to one Autumn Ivy, the brat. Hufflepuff was starting to catch a bad rap in his mind. Oh, but Lindsey was in Hufflepuff. She made everything better- but Wyatt couldn’t think of her right now!

Wyatt took a step closer, his hands clasped together behind his back. “You will never speak of this, badger.” Wyatt hoped this first-year wouldn’t know who he was. Wyatt did have those rumors spread about him last year, but the first-years wouldn’t know about that would they? Maybe he could just leave without the kid knowing his name, and then since the kid doesn’t know his name, he can't spread the word!

_{@Charles Wolfssegner
mentions: Hanako Tone, Autumn Ivy, Lindsey Springhall}

The wand was revealed in such a manner that made Charles jump, though he had to hold back a smile when he noticed the wand pointed a little bit above the hairs of his head. He gulped, regretting to even have thought such a thing when the wand was pointed between his eyes. This made his own eyes cross, staring right at the tip of the wand. The tension eased as the other let down his wand and placed it back into his pocket, much like holstering their gun after sparing the life of some poor creature. He felt the other boy's eyes leer into his own; his dark, cold eyes reflecting only what he saw, making it difficult for anyone to even have the slightest idea of what he may be feeling. The eyes are the windows of the soul, right? Perhaps he had no soul, Charles thought to himself, drifting his focus away from the current situation, only to be snapped back into reality when the older boy began to speak, his voice striking Charles' own neck.

“I asked twice if anyone was in here, and I got no response both times,”

The boy's head lowered, like a dog being scolded. He didn't really like the tone of voice, it reminded him too much of when his dad would tell him off after doing something particularly naughty, (such as breaking a window, playing games at night or, if his dad were to see him now, this sticky situation he's found himself in).

“I always thought Gryffindor was the dumbest house but obviously I was mistaken, you sorry excuse for a Hufflepuff.”

These words probably would have stung more than it did if Charles understood the society the school has built itself in. Gryffindor? That's the one with the eagle, right? Whatever, it wasn't relevant right now. What the little badger felt was most important right now was to right his wrongs with the boy... somehow. The other seemed to be very direct with what he meant.

“You will never speak of this, badger.” The Slytherin spoke, his appearance becoming even more menacing than before as he took a step closer, looming over Charles despite the fact that he was only a couple of inches taller than him. His uniform position and puffed chest just made him appear even scarier. Charles sought to find reconciliation, however. This was just a mere incident, nothing important. If he could explain this was all a misunderstanding, perhaps everything will be right about the world.

He chuckled nervously, not letting the smile wipe off his face. Everything about his body felt instilled with fear, so it didn't really matter if he wanted to make an effort to move at all. "Um, I-I'm sorry... It's uh, nice to meet ye?", he said, outright ignoring the other boy's request. He continued, stretching an arm out to offer a handshake as both his voice and hands trembled, "It was uh, I mean ye were uh... I'm Charles. Wh-what's yer name?"

November 8, 2020
outfit | shoes

English
Parseltongue

[font=times new roman]"Um, I-I'm sorry... It's uh, nice to meet ye?" This badger was so, incredibly thick. "It was uh, I mean ye were uh... I'm Charles. Wh-what's yer name?" As Charles continued to speak to Wyatt, it seemed that the boy knew nothing of what parseltongue was. Could it be that the Hufflepuff didn’t know the weight behind parseltongue and by making it such a big deal, Wyatt put more suspicion on himself than necessary? It was quite possible.

Still, Wyatt didn’t want this Charles kid to know his real name so he made one up. Wyatt looked down at the Hufflepuff’s shaking hand, but kept his hands behind his back. After he met the other boy’s eyes again, he said “Damien Sanguis.” He chose Damien cause it was the name of that demon kid in that one movie, and Sanguis because it was his mother’s last name before she changed it to Starkey.

If this kid was a blood-purist, the surname name might ring a few bells, but Wyatt assumed it was safe. A blood-purist would know what parseltongue was, hell, a blood purist might be a parseltongue. Wyatt always hated the idea of pushing a blood-purist agenda and resented his grandparents for it. His mother was strongly against it too, but they decided not to talk about that wizarding war too much. It made both of them feel awful hearing about it.

Wyatt looked Charles up and down, for dramatic effect. “Do you even know what just happened, Charles?”

_{@Charles Wolfssegner}

Charles watched as the other looked him up and down, his eyes burning with irritation and judgement. When it was obvious the older boy would not take his hand, the Hufflepuff lowered it, somewhat disappointed. Realistically, it definitely wasn’t going to happen, but Charles always put his hopes up in the wrong places.
His ears perked when he heard the other’s “name”, “Damien Sanguis”
The voice was sure and steady, unlike his own where it began to waver as he replied.
“Oh, Damien? Damien’s the name of me dog at home! ‘Es a black lab, yesee? Love ‘em to death, yknow?”
It was obvious at this point that the young boy had not a single clue about these sorts of things. Family blood lines, the wizarding war, house feuds... hell, he wasn’t even fully sure what the word muggle really meant, and he’s been too afraid to ask at this point. He grew up muggle, if anything. Whatever seemed to be bothering “Damien” so much was something that was currently inconceivable to him, (or it was just irrelevant if he had an idea as to what it could be).
“Do you even know what just happened, Charles?”
Did something just happen? He tried to recall anything about wizard history that could help, along with rumors he may have heard from anyone that could help him piece together. Alas, this was to no avail. He hasn’t necessarily been here for too long, as well as the fact that it was difficult for him to hold a conversation. Not wanting to let “Damien” be left without an answer, he tried to muster up his best guess.
“Uh, well ye came in ‘ere an’ uh... Ay wanted t’see who was there, then ay heard a hissin’ sound!” he chirped, nodding his head in assurance, “Ah ye, a hissin’ sound. Kinda went like this, yknow? Hissss.” He decided to add little hand movements as he imitated the hiss, curling his fingers into claw like shapes as if to imitate a monster while sticking his tongue out.
“An’ well uh, got scared outta me briefs. Pushed the door too hard, made an awful creak. Well, yknow the rest...”

[font=times new roman]“Uh, well ye came in ‘ere an’ uh... Ay wanted t’see who was there, then ay heard a hissin’ sound. Ah ye, a hissin’ sound. Kinda went like this, yknow? Hissss.” Charles curled his fingers as he made the sound, his tongue sticking out too. “An’ well uh, got scared outta me briefs. Pushed the door too hard, made an awful creak. Well, yknow the rest...” Wyatt knew he messed up.

This kid had no idea what parseltongue was, and Wyatt made a fool of himself by acting out.

Wyatt inhaled. So, he could make it seem like the whole thing wasn’t a big deal… but then chances were, the kid would go around telling everyone about Wyatt’s ability without knowing the weight of the accusations. That would then cement the rumor that he was related to a few Death Eaters. Wyatt was panicking, but he didn’t dare show it. His expression masked his thoughts well.

The Snake knew what he had to do, it was going to be a strange conversation, but he knew if he just let Charles go without telling him what really happened, he’d probably go around telling all of his friends. Wyatt wasn’t going to let that happen. “Alright, then. I don’t think that you’re playing dumb, but if you are, you’re doing a hell of a good job at it.” Wyatt narrowed his eyes, making it look like he was thinking over his next move.

In reality, he already knew what he was going to say next, but what’s the point of having a conversation if you weren’t going to be ridiculously over-dramatic for no reason the whole time. “I’m a parselmouth. I speak parseltongue. Basically, I can talk to snakes. The history behind the language isn’t so… pristine. I advise you to do your own research, as I do not have the time to teach my history to some first-year.”

Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest. “It'd give me a bad look, being a parseltongue, Charles. If I were to hear that a nasty rumor had spread about me, a certain first-year Hufflepuff might be found face down in the black lake.” Oh, Wyatt didn't have the technical ability to kill anyone. Nor did he have the guts to do it the muggle way, but he could make as many empty threats as he wanted. Most people wouldn't know if he was telling the truth or not.

Still, he was anxious. Wyatt didn’t find much comfort in the fact that he didn’t tell the Hufflepuff his real name. If he were to tell people, they’d eventually find that there was no Damien Sanguis, and with a brief description of Wyatt’s features from Charles, they’d find out who “Damien” really was. Wyatt absent-mindedly chewed on the inside of his cheek.

_{@Charles Wolfssegner}