31 Aug 2021, 16:37
Steady Slopes
[font=PT Serif]The noise of the radio being turned off reels him back, he barely notices the white noise it provided for someone like him till he was met with the brief silence. His green gaze flickers to the suspect, his grandfather in his usual disposition. They greeting is often quiet, both customary by now with the way they almost nod to each other in sync.
“ Your school year, how has it been? Your uncle told me you returned from Hogwarts. “
A shift in the seat and a gentle close of the book grants him full attention to give to his grandfather. The light through the windows of the study gave him ample visibility of the text on the page, but it illuminates the mirrored disinterest his grandfather showed to him.
“ It’s as abnormal as ever of course. I heard about the going ons about campus, but I’ve been avoidant of everything. “ His voice carries deeper, holding a sense of candor and bereft intentions. If he could cut this conversation short, he would, he knows where it was going after all.
The news shocked his family, they weren’t sure where or why he had done so. The decision was done over the school year, so he had time to dwell on what he would say to them.
“ And this includes Quidditch? “ The former beater leans on his knees, propped by his forearm against them. Hands clasp as he nods almost too uniformly to dismiss any doubts he even had.
“ . . . This includes Quidditch. “ The older man, a former Gryffindor, comes to sit across from him on the pair of leather couches. He doesn’t look furious, but confused.
“ The badgers were doing well, why did you quit? “ Reid’s calloused hand combs through his hair out of habit when he was thinking, tousling it slightly in the wind before his shoulders rise and fall. “ I was just having issues, personal ones at least. “
“ And that warranted you leave the team? “
Reid’s head bobbed so quickly, he was sure of his answer. “ I’d confess, how I’ve been mentally feeling wasn’t what it was years ago. I’ve had a terrible decline for quite some time now. “ There it was, the dissonance on his grandfather’s features. He doesn’t understand at least it seems that way. The Hufflepuff isn’t phased, he’s used to that look and the way it settles in.
“ You’re squandering your wins if this is how you go, your team won a whole season undefeated and a game against Durmstrang. Even your opener was a win and yet you quit over a sadness that will pass. It doesn’t make sense, Reid. “ The younger is the first to break eye contact with the elderly man, as it falls onto a random book on the shelf behind him.
“ I have no explanation for it and if I did, I’d fix it. “ It flicks back to him, his furrowed brows grants irritation on his features. “ I didn’t want to quit Quidditch, I was finally starting not as a backup for once. But I could feel myself slip from it. “ The older man wrinkles his expression, almost disgusted as he leans back.
“ Then what is your plan? You had a knack for being a beater, what do you plan to do? “ Reid understood what he meant, his academics weren’t all there and he was painfully average as a wizard.
“ We’ll see, hardly the end of the world grandfather. “ he confesses. The ambiguity doesn’t sit right with his grandfather, but nothing ever really sat right with him from the beginning. Reid used to pander so much to him, but now, he found himself giving him less. Maybe it was out of spite or maybe it was out of the plain realization that he doesn’t need to care about what his family thinks all the time.
“ I hope so, you’re not as young anymore, you’ve been with us for years, don’t waste your youth. I'm finally proud of you after that win against Durmstrang, be sure of yourself. “ Reid presses his tongue against his cheek as he stands up to leave, his hands slip into the pocket of his jeans and the University of Roehampton London sweater he’s been wearing shrugs again against his frame.
“ I’m not, I think I’ve never felt more sure of myself than ever before then now. “ His idle words are left with the older man and he takes himself out towards the front entrance. “ I’ll be back later, I’m going to the Ardor. “ The door is gently closed behind him and he takes a deep breath, allowing the cold air to fill his cracked lungs.
Reid wasn’t academically gifted and he hadn’t played Quidditch anymore, but he had taken interest in drumming. The young Hufflepuff found a quiet love for jazz drumming, niche and specific after being exposed to it by his uncle. So he watches at the club sometimes, taking notes for when he practices at one of the music stores in Birmingham.
A free hand slips gum into his mouth, he heads down the steps with the book under his arm as he chews; wrapper placed in the pocket of his pants. " That was foul. "
He needed an outlet for his frustrations, he was at his happiest trying to understand his own flow in jazz drumming and he was at his angriest when he was drumming to bands like Black Flag and Minor Threat. The door is closed and it was too late to realize he had taken his book with him, a terribly dark novel by Dazai himself. He’d finish it later.[/font]
“ Your school year, how has it been? Your uncle told me you returned from Hogwarts. “
A shift in the seat and a gentle close of the book grants him full attention to give to his grandfather. The light through the windows of the study gave him ample visibility of the text on the page, but it illuminates the mirrored disinterest his grandfather showed to him.
“ It’s as abnormal as ever of course. I heard about the going ons about campus, but I’ve been avoidant of everything. “ His voice carries deeper, holding a sense of candor and bereft intentions. If he could cut this conversation short, he would, he knows where it was going after all.
The news shocked his family, they weren’t sure where or why he had done so. The decision was done over the school year, so he had time to dwell on what he would say to them.
“ And this includes Quidditch? “ The former beater leans on his knees, propped by his forearm against them. Hands clasp as he nods almost too uniformly to dismiss any doubts he even had.
“ . . . This includes Quidditch. “ The older man, a former Gryffindor, comes to sit across from him on the pair of leather couches. He doesn’t look furious, but confused.
“ The badgers were doing well, why did you quit? “ Reid’s calloused hand combs through his hair out of habit when he was thinking, tousling it slightly in the wind before his shoulders rise and fall. “ I was just having issues, personal ones at least. “
“ And that warranted you leave the team? “
Reid’s head bobbed so quickly, he was sure of his answer. “ I’d confess, how I’ve been mentally feeling wasn’t what it was years ago. I’ve had a terrible decline for quite some time now. “ There it was, the dissonance on his grandfather’s features. He doesn’t understand at least it seems that way. The Hufflepuff isn’t phased, he’s used to that look and the way it settles in.
“ You’re squandering your wins if this is how you go, your team won a whole season undefeated and a game against Durmstrang. Even your opener was a win and yet you quit over a sadness that will pass. It doesn’t make sense, Reid. “ The younger is the first to break eye contact with the elderly man, as it falls onto a random book on the shelf behind him.
“ I have no explanation for it and if I did, I’d fix it. “ It flicks back to him, his furrowed brows grants irritation on his features. “ I didn’t want to quit Quidditch, I was finally starting not as a backup for once. But I could feel myself slip from it. “ The older man wrinkles his expression, almost disgusted as he leans back.
“ Then what is your plan? You had a knack for being a beater, what do you plan to do? “ Reid understood what he meant, his academics weren’t all there and he was painfully average as a wizard.
“ We’ll see, hardly the end of the world grandfather. “ he confesses. The ambiguity doesn’t sit right with his grandfather, but nothing ever really sat right with him from the beginning. Reid used to pander so much to him, but now, he found himself giving him less. Maybe it was out of spite or maybe it was out of the plain realization that he doesn’t need to care about what his family thinks all the time.
“ I hope so, you’re not as young anymore, you’ve been with us for years, don’t waste your youth. I'm finally proud of you after that win against Durmstrang, be sure of yourself. “ Reid presses his tongue against his cheek as he stands up to leave, his hands slip into the pocket of his jeans and the University of Roehampton London sweater he’s been wearing shrugs again against his frame.
“ I’m not, I think I’ve never felt more sure of myself than ever before then now. “ His idle words are left with the older man and he takes himself out towards the front entrance. “ I’ll be back later, I’m going to the Ardor. “ The door is gently closed behind him and he takes a deep breath, allowing the cold air to fill his cracked lungs.
Reid wasn’t academically gifted and he hadn’t played Quidditch anymore, but he had taken interest in drumming. The young Hufflepuff found a quiet love for jazz drumming, niche and specific after being exposed to it by his uncle. So he watches at the club sometimes, taking notes for when he practices at one of the music stores in Birmingham.
A free hand slips gum into his mouth, he heads down the steps with the book under his arm as he chews; wrapper placed in the pocket of his pants. " That was foul. "
He needed an outlet for his frustrations, he was at his happiest trying to understand his own flow in jazz drumming and he was at his angriest when he was drumming to bands like Black Flag and Minor Threat. The door is closed and it was too late to realize he had taken his book with him, a terribly dark novel by Dazai himself. He’d finish it later.[/font]
"Trouble usually finds me."