PART ONE

Plymouth, England
July 1st 2020

Needless to say, Pericles' parents were the source of his strangeness. His mother was a mystery, a wild witch dressed in diaphanous floating fabrics. She radiated a sense of obscure wisdom and dignified forbearance. Her teachings revolved around horticulture, potion making, astrology and divination. Cenedril had passed along her dream-like nature, serene mannerisms, and affinity for the bizarre to her son. Isaac, in contrast to his otherworldly wife, was an imposing presence. Terribly tall with broad shoulders and a cutting leer, his deep voice and ominous aura dictated deference. His sole soft spot was for his family, to which he was unwavering. Isaac applied, from time to time, what some might consider "tough love" to his son. His methods of preparing the boy for his potential future as an auror could often be called coarse, but he guided Pericles to develop a sense of pride, purpose, practicality, and righteousness. Though he believed the boy took more after his mother, he was determined to properly brace him for his aspirations. What better way to build his durability than whapping him with a fencing foil from time to time?

Pericles loved his family dearly. Although they had faced their fair share of storms throughout his upbringing, there was no trauma between the boy and his parents, no turmoil nor deprivation. Their home had necessities and comforts, enrichment and entertainment. He had no cause to complain. Yet despite being home for his first dinner with his family, he didn't feel half as excited as he thought he ought to be. The Ravenclaw's mind was ever drifting back to Hogwarts, towards summer camp, to the friends he had made and now missed. Where before he was content to talk with his parents about their trades, Pericles was now underwhelmed when the subject was anything besides school. He had been homesick when first he left. Now he was schoolsick, though at least his folks were indulging him with inquiries on his new favorite topic.

"...member of the school paper and a prefect in his first year," Isaac was rumbling smugly, a wolfish grin directed to his torch-bearer. The lord was an entity of formality and tradition. Although he did not eat as they did, he enjoyed having his seat at the table set accordingly, with utensils he would not use and a plate he would not dirty. Besides them was his sole source of sustenance: a flask, from which he sipped from time to time while his family dined. Pericles modestly dropped his gaze to his plate, timidly pushing a bite of lamb bhula about. He felt both bashful from his father's pride, and simultaneously tried not to buckle under the weight of implied expectations. "It's best to start strong at Hogwarts, ever-changing as it is, lest your repute fall by the wayside. What of the Quidditch team? You made mention of applying." The boy withheld an uncertain expression, opting for neutrality, gradually gazing up again. "Well... I did apply. I'm in line for the Seeker spot, but I've also heard there's a dueling club in the works. I may pursue it instead." Isaac arched an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't you take part in both?" "They'd like to distribute the opportunities, I think." "Odd. I should think the positions would be distributed per effort and compatibility." Spearing a chunk of lamb, Pericles quickly countered "It's fairer, father. We can't simply compete to determine who is more worthy of a slot." He couldn't recall at which point the conversation had become an underlying debate, though he found the man smiling slyly back over his drink. Isaac asked, without a second's pause, "Why not?" His son appeared taken aback. He weighed the question with a puzzled frown, then- seeming to decide it was best not to delve into a debate on morality- shrugged and looked upon his plate. It was perhaps this disinclination towards dominance that had determined why he belonged in Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin. Pericles' love of adventure far outweighed ambition and glory.

Pericles preoccupied himself with a bite of bhula. Isaac conceded, drawing at his drink, though his eyes gleamed with simmering amusement. When next his resonant voice rolled across the table, it carried a tone of casual candor. "What about the friends you have made? Tell me more of the girls on the train." The effect was like lighting a sparkler: instantaneous crackles of light lifting the lad from decorum and gloom alike. "Xailah Alptraum and Meenauh Silmataurea!" Saying goodbye for two months felt like a forever farewell to a twelve-year-old. Peri had been emotional in the moment, but now he carried on happily. "Both are Gryffindor prefects. I met Xailah in the library while she was studying." He avoided naming the topic: hags. "Then she introduced me to Meenauh, who she was already quite close to," and they bonded over discussing recent politics, alongside Hogwarts' many potential threats. "I met a Slytherin prefect as well- Ruby Cazares. It's nice to have friends to patrol with," never mind the night he and Ruby wound up in a heated duel with curfew-breakers, "though they're all higher grades than I."

"Have you any friends in your year...?" "Oh, yes. I met a Gryffindor named Piérre Marchonné when he invited me to a sort of study club." It would have been more apt to say it was a secret meeting concerning the murder of Dolores Umbridge at the hand of Harry Potter, though they did, in a sense, study. Piérre had also landed them- as well as Xailah- in the hospital wing when a stinkbomb went bad. They witnessed the auror VanCleaf- former partner of Potter- ferociously attack his own brother, the school nurse. "I did make a second-year Ravenclaw friend as well: Breana Oliveire, whose father owns a muggle bookstore. I spent the Blossom Ball- when I wrote home asking for my formals- with Xai, Meena, Brea, Ruby, and one of her friends." They fought mosps on broomback. "I'm pleased to hear you have diversified your connections, though I must wonder, do you spend much time with members of your own House?" "'Course, no need to worry. There was actually a function towards the end of the year, a bonding exercise, in which I met a great deal of other Ravenclaws." It involved entering the Forbidden Forest and collectively struggling to survive an onslaught of hag dolls, ferocious flora, terrorizing terrain, an acromantula, and of course: fire. There was an awful lot he had decided that the Lord and Lady Dralt needn't know about though. All they needed to know was what would set their minds at ease, what the purest, most positive takeaway could be:
"It was an excellent year. I'm happy to be home, but I'll be glad to go back."

Art was commissioned from TheFearMaster @ Deviantart