Finished Should We Fear the Dark? PV Sinclair Carver

Syrah let the words drift over her, nodding slightly as she considered the girl's perspective. She couldn't help but feel an odd agreement. Fear of the unknown was powerful, but even more so when mixed with the fears of what others could do with power. She was no stranger to fear—fear of herself, of others, of what lay ahead. Yet she didn’t often voice it, never spoke of it aloud. Words were something she wasn’t always comfortable with.

For a moment, Syrah stood still, eyes staring out over the lake. It was as if the cold air gave her the space to think. To breathe. She looked back at the girl for a second before standing up. brushing the snow off her knees as she straightened. Her pale fingers trembled slightly.

"The cold doesn’t bother me," she said, her voice soft and calm.

The sneeze came suddenly, and she blinked in surprise. It was an odd, human thing to do—something that left her feeling briefly vulnerable. It was almost... funny. She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, feeling the frost still lingering on her skin, though it didn’t really bother her.

"Guess it does a little after all," she muttered to herself, the corner of her lips curling into the faintest trace of a smirk.

Her gaze flicked back to the girl, but only for a moment. She didn’t know why, but the girl’s concern seemed genuine, like she was used to dealing with people like Syrah—people who didn’t talk much, who were okay with being alone. It was an odd thing to consider.

She straightened up again, taking a slow, steady breath, before turning her gaze back to the girl for just a moment.

Syrah finally said, her voice low but clear as if she was sharing a secret. "I’m Syrah."

The jet-haired girl can't help but mirror the curl in her lips at the sneeze, not in a mocking manner, she just thought it was endearing. And, for that the blonde admitted that the cold did bother her after all was charming to her. Sinclair felt somewhat of a lure to this girl, feeling familiar to her, yet not completely. Knowing that they seemed to share an opinion on a matter about dark magic and power made Sinclair a bit more curious about whatever opinions they had that were different, not that she'd oppose to having more things in common with this strange young witch. For the first time since arriving to Hogwarts, she found herself genuinely intrigued by another student. Which, was quite a significant event considering her lack of interest for those around her. She could feel a low, bubbling hum of excitement in her chest, yet her composure remained still, not wanting to express it too outwardly in the presence of someone else. Especially not with someone that seems to actually appreciate boundaries as well and doesn't bring unnecessary fake laugher and dishonesty into a conversation. Even having had what could be considered a heavy subject for a preteen, Sinclair felt a calmness speaking with her.

Syrah. The name stuck in her head like a wonderful curse.

A slight smile graces her lips as she looks back with sincere eyes, "Sinclair. Nice to meet you. Perhaps we'll cross paths again?"

Syrah’s gaze lingered for a moment, her pale eyes flickering with a curiosity she wouldn’t dare admit. The way the other girl’s lips curled ever so slightly hadn’t gone unnoticed, nor had the sincerity behind her words. People were usually far more predictable—empty politeness, false cheer, superficial smiles that never reached their eyes. But this girl, Sinclair... she was different. Her words felt grounded, like they were meant to be heard and not just spoken. It was... oddly refreshing.

The cold was still biting at her bones, and her shivering hadn’t completely ceased. She was foolish for staying out so long just for some quiet, but it was the only place she could think clearly. Even if it meant freezing half to death. And yet, she didn’t mind—not when this unexpected conversation had been the result.

“Perhaps,” she replied, her voice level but quiet, as though she were afraid to break whatever spell had been cast over this encounter. “Nice to meet you too.”

She lingered just a moment longer, then turned away, her figure already fading into the distance. The cold nipped at her heels, urging her onward, but her mind was somewhere else entirely. On the girl by the lake, and the name that seemed to echo in her mind, long after she was out of earshot.

Sinclair.