Bad first impressions Open Closed

Thomas stood huddled in a group of other first year students eagerly awaiting to lay eyes on the quidditch pitch. It was one of the few things to excite him since he arrived at Hogwarts seven days ago. There was a larger distance between Thomas and the other students. He desired desperately to take off on a broom and circle around the field until sunset, even if he didn’t remotely understand how to even mount a broom. “This way first years!” The prefect shouted, briskly walking back towards the castle. Thomas glanced over to the pitch once more. He wandered away from the group towards the field, looking up at towers that displayed Slytherin’s notorious symbol. His insides turned with his tense stare. “Come on Thomas!” Thomas quickly turned around to see the group impatiently waiting on him. His blue eyes appeared hollow, his face turning red. It was no secret Thomas wanted to create permanent separation, laying in the field all day to stare at the sky.

It was only an hour past noon and the anticipation of the school tour failed to entice Thomas like the other students. They were nearing the main courtyard when the prefect leading the tour stopped. “This concludes the tour, first years. Feel free to explore around here, but don’t find yourself going too far.” The prefect stared down Thomas at the end of his sentence. He then turned away and walked toward the large doors that led into the castle. Thomas clutched his pockets in anger, he was already off to a bad start as far as impressions go. When clutching his robe pocket, he felt a parchment crumpling. He pulled out the owl he received six days ago from his mother. It wasn’t like Thomas to ignore his mother. His anxiety around her reaction to being selected to the same house as his father led to dread. Thomas narrowed his piercing blue eyes while he did a 360, insuring no one was watching. He carefully walked to an isolated corner in the courtyard, sitting in one of the large arched windows to open the owl.

“Please don’t be discouraged, Tom. You have his blood running through your veins, but you’re not him. Your uncle tells me it’d have been a shame if you weren’t selected into Slytherin! You have many choices ahead of you, I know you’ll make the right ones. Just promise me you’ll put yourself out there… Don’t close yourself off! I just kn—” Thomas crumpled the owl from his mother, making a fist. His mother’s words often had the reverse effect since Thomas learned of his father’s true purpose. Once a strong-minded wizard with a just moral code. Many poor decisions led him into the pursuit of darkness, losing his life prematurely. Thomas often wonders if his father were still alive, would he have Thomas dedicated to the same dark nature. It’s a question that’s haunted him, leading to the inevitable thought that he is bound to make the same mistakes.

“I’m bound for it, just like him.” Thomas spoke aloud, throwing the crumpled owl on the ground to signify his defeated feelings. While a part of him was relieved to know his mother is not critical of his house, he still questioned her true feelings. Thomas vaulted himself off the stone arch. He turned to his left to pick up the parchment but froze in the process. Another student sat only a few arches down. Thomas froze in fear she had been sitting there the whole time. “I—uh, those damn collectors.” He muttered awkwardly, trying to give somewhat of an explanation to his minor temper tantrum. Thomas shoved the parchment back into his pocket, some of the words from his mother’s owl echoing in his head. Put yourself out there… Thomas relaxed his stance, leaning against the stone arch he had just vacated. “Been there the whole time, have you?” His lips curved up into a shy smile, trying to play off the embarrassing moment.