Maybe Don't Climb That? PV Calvon Faux Closed

Backdated to November 23

The last week had been quite interesting for the young boy. From clashing with his dormmates to being trapped in a room with them, Hogwarts was shaping up to be quite the interesting place. However, as interesting and unpredictable the castle was, there would always be a place—a safe haven—the eleven year old could go to and relax. A place filled with fantasies concocted in the heads of geniuses, or lunatics. A place where timeless advice was waiting to be discovered. A place that detailed the accomplishments of leaders, generals, the past events that led them down the path of becoming who they were. History, fantasy, and wisdom filled this room. And it was this place, the library, that Calvon was currently relaxing in.

With his eyes covered by its lids and his face covered by a book, Calvon’s mind unravelled and sorted through the information it had been gathering for the past week. If he had to categorize the last week through a name or phrase, it would be: “Meeting the Snapes” They were an interesting group, to say the least. They ranged from cooly, calmy collected, to leaders of men, to rash, impulsive bullies, and psychotic, broken boys. Yet, Calvon didn’t feel as if he didn’t belong—no, there was no feeling of belonging either. Just a sense of a potential blossoming of brotherhood...maybe. Each of the boys had their own, unique problems with other boys in the group, but a smirk would slowly sneak and creep across his face before turning into a grin. Calvon could only imagine what the Snape dorm would be like if they were banded together.

They’d be unstoppable.

And their enemies?

How unfortunate for. Those. Poor. Souls.

But it wasn't this fantasy that would open the eyes of the plotting juvenile. A noise would cause the boy’s glinting eyes to unpleasantly squint. He’d lift the book off his face, and turn his head in an attempt to find the source of the sound.

It was snickering.

People could do whatever they wanted; the matters of others didn’t concern Calvon. However, now that he was being affected, it was a tad bit bothersome. So the 11 year old stretched himself to satisfaction, and made his way towards the unpleasant people, and the source of some victim’s harassment. The victim herself was a girl not much smaller than the 4’8 Calvon. Her hair, like a fly to a light, charmed the young snake the most. Astrong, powerful, dark blonde that much contrasted weak, miniscule presence of its owner. From looking at her robes, it was obvious that she was a Ravenclaw, an additional feature that impressed Calvon as the boy hadn’t made any connections from that house.

And now an opportunity was presenting itself.

Maybe that was why the boy decided to help out the light green-eyed girl. Maybe it was due to an interest in her hair. Maybe he just wanted to silence those that were currently irritating him...or maybe he just wanted to do a good thing. It was unknown to the boy, why, but all he knew right now was that he was going to assist the blonde. So, he pulled up a chair, and met the girl’s eyes with his bright emerald ones and said with a questioning look,

“Hey, I’m Calvon Faux. Thought you could use some help.”

A welcoming smile would present itself on his face. Oh, how the boy liked interacting with others; he could only imagine how this conversation would conclude.

@Calvon Faux

Elzabeths eyes moved to the stranger with slight surprise. It wasn’t everyday someone stepped in to help her.

“H-hello.” Elzabeth stammered. She pushed herself off of the shelf with a slightly red face. The young boy looked kind, with black hair and welcoming green eyes. She wasn’t sure what year he was in but he looked about her age.

“Uh, well-“ Elzabeth looked at his height. He was taller than her but not by much. “Could you try and reach for that book?” She pointed a small finger at the worn leather cover.

Elizabeth looked back over at him with a smile, hoping to make things a little less embarrassing for her.

When in any type of humiliating situation she always found herself trying to smile, it was a horrible coping mechanism, really. Her father pointed out a difference between the two smiles, though Elzabeth couldn’t tell.

“I’ve been meaning to read it for a while.” Though that wasn’t completely true, she didn’t want to seem crazy climbing for a book she only half wanted. She rubbed the back of her neck, tossing a strand of hair out of her eyes. Some day she was going to get annoyed with the blonde locks and completely chop them off.

Eyes filled with surprise would dart in Calvon’s direction and meet his eyes. The short blondee would stumble over her words as he addressed the boy with a greeting. With her face flushing with blood, Calvon’s observant eyes didn’t have to scan the woman to know that she was nervous. It was cute. In fact, her reaction made Calvon’s welcoming smile transform into a warm, genuine one.

The girl would raise her head and gesture upward asking Calvon if he could reach a book she was pointing at. Now, Calvon had just seen the girl attempting to reach the book, and knowing that the girl was essentially the same height as him, it didn’t seem like a bright idea to attempt the same thing she had. The thought of falling in front of her was just too embarrassing. With that thought in mind, the boy would slightly chuckle with embarrassment and say, “I don’t think so,” as he scratched the back of his head.

“But!” The smile on the boy’s face would grow as the words left his mouth. With his emerald eyes now brightly dazzling, the eleven year old would gesture to the chair and say, “I brought a chair” Now urged on by the high of excitement, Calvon would move the chair appropriately, stand on it, grab the book, and hand it to the girl.

Despite usually being observant, the flow of events caused Calvon to not get a glance at the book he was grabbing for the girl, and unfortunately the title was facing towards the ground. Being that he was quite invested in both the girl and the book, Calvon found himself in a prime position to not only naturally prolong the conversation but to also find out more about the female Ravenclaw. With raised eyes and scrunched brows, the young Slytherin asked the girl,

“You said that you’ve been wanting to read this book for a while. What’s it about...uh…”

The smile on Calvon’s face altered into a more embarrassed smile and his left hand began to raise and scratch the back of his head--clearly an unknown habit. It dawned upon the boy that he didn’t even know the name of the girl he was assisting. Knowing someone’s name may not be a prerequisite to helping them, but it sure did prevent awkward situations such as this from occurring. And now, Calvon found himself asking a question the girl should have answered from the beginning. He had already introduced himself hadn’t he?

“Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

@Calvon Faux

Elzabeth looked down at the book in her hands. Somehow it was heavier than she thought. Her smile grew as she turned it over in her hands, reading the worn title.

“You said that you’ve been wanting to read this book for a while. What’s it about...uh… Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

Elzabeth noticed him nervously rubbing the back of his neck, she found it oddly charming. "Elzabeth." She nodded. Then her eyes fell to the book in her hands and she shifted the weight so she was holding it to her side.

"I hate poems. They annoy me really." She knew it probably sounded odd coming from someone who had just attempted to climb the library shelves for a giant book of them. "But I figured poems are like movies or books, you just have to find the right type."

Her father had warned her time and time again that her hatred for poems was because she refused to branch out, now she had an excuse to prove him wrong. If she read through some of these and didn't like one, maybe she truly did hate poems. On the other hand, if she found some she liked, she would have something to do.

It wasn't exactly what she had planned to do today but now she was too far in the rabbit hole to back out. Her eyes went back to the boy, curious as to what he was thinking of her at the moment.

In an attempt to bring the attention off of her, she asked him a question, "What are you doing in the library? Studying?"

@Elzabeth Gillan

“Elzabeth.” Responded the blonde as she nodded assuredly.

With a classic, warm smile, Calvon would reply, “Nice to meet you meet you, Elzabeth.”

The eyes of the girl would then fall to the book in her hand, and her weight would shift--a movement not missed by Calvon’s eyes. And just as quickly as his eyes saw the movement, his meticulous brain began to record and analyze the movement. Nervousness? Discomfort? Potential annoyance? While the reason for Elzabeth’s submission was being internal processed by Calvon, Elzabeth would look to answer the boy’s question.

“I hate poems. They annoy me really.”

Upon hearing the response, the boy’s brows would furrow and his eyes narrowed inquisitively. Calling the look on Calvon’s face “confused” would be an understatement. Assuming the girl was answering his previous question about the book she was reading and not just rambling about a topic that had nothing to do with the conversation, the young Slytherin just couldn’t understand why the Ravenclaw would not only risk embarrassment but purposefully choose a book that she knew she hated. Maybe it was just the way Ravenclaws operated.

“But I figured poems are like movies or books, you just have to find the right type.”

Ahhhhh, that explained it. The puzzled look that decorated the boy’s face would quickly dissolve as he put two and two together. Elzabeth was simply trying to expand her horizons. The saying was: “Don’t knock it till you try it,” and Elzabeth, despite having quite strong feelings about the genre of literature that was poetry, she would attempt to give it the benefit of the doubt and indulge in the genre with a somewhat open mind.

It was a mindset that would cause a small smile to appear on the boy’s face. It was admirable--a common trait of all the leaders he read about. Never disregarding anything, and always looking at everything with an open mind. In fact, it was an aspect of himself that he was trying to work on. His dad had always told him to think of the bigger picture--and you can’t exactly do that without having an open mind.

Seeing that it was a little weird to be standing on the chair, Calvon would begin to make his way down the chair. As he lowered himself back to the floor, he’d catch Elzabeth’s eyes meeting his. For what seemed like eternity, Calvon’s heart dropped. In actuality, it was only for half of a second. What was closer to eternity was how long Calvon stared at the soft-featured Ravenclaw. Noticing this, and beginning to get slightly red, the child would take a step back before hearing what the girl had to ask.

“What are you doing in the library? Studying?”

Studying… That’s what Calvon should have been doing given that he was over two months behind in his classes. Realizing this, the boy would softly laugh and smirk before saying, “I should be studying, but I was just chilling. Might sound a little lame, but I like being in the library. It reminds me of home.” He’d look up and shrug as he tried to mentally convince himself that he wasn’t embarrassed. Then, his eyes would pop and his face would light up as a thought, seemingly, came to mind.

Louder than needed, he’d exclaim, “Oh Elzabeth!” Calvon would then cover his mouth and grimace as he realized that he was slightly louder than intended.

“How’s it like to be a Ravenclaw? Like what happens?”

The first brick had been laid down.

@Calvon Faux

Seemingly oblivious to the boy's prolonged stair, Elzabeth smiled at him as he confessed his business within the library walls. She too found comfort within the shelves of towering books, although it hardly reminded her of home. She supposed she enjoyed having a place she could do her work in seclusion, any time she tried to study in the tower during the day there was always something else going on with another group of people.

Suddenly he exclaimed her name, causing Elzabeth to jump a little and glance at the others who had begun their staring all over again. She would have sent a nasty look their way had Calvon not been standing there.

“How’s it like to be a Ravenclaw? Like what happens?”

His question amused Elzabeth enough for her to let out a small giggle, covering her mouth. She didn't want to embarrass him or come off rude.

"I'm not laughing at you, I promise." She hurried to fix her mistake, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"It's just, well, so ordinary." Being a Ravenclaw was no more special than being in any other house, though she did admit from time to time that Ravenclaws got the longer end of the stick when it came to dorms. Their common room was stunning.

"We have some kids who love to learn and take their grades seriously, and then we have others that would prefer to answer their own questions before the ones included in the Essays. It all depends on how your cookie crumbles." Elzabeth shrugged. "I'm guessing the same could be said for your house."

Elzabeth sometimes felt as though the whole sorting thing was silly, there was no way you could fit so many people into only four categories. It was often a thought that would plague her during her insomnia episodes but that was another topic for another day.

The young Ravenclaw would jump at Calvon’s expression of excitement. He couldn’t blame her; there were in a library after all. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to be bothered by it; that would have definitely made the boy flush with embarrassment. Just a little. However, it seemed that Calvon was destined for just a little bit of embarrassment as the girl started to giggle a little. His eyes would widen slightly in humiliation.

What? What did I say The eleven year old would think to himself as he tried to make sense of the girl’s giggling.

“I'm not laughing at you, I promise.” Elzabeth quickly replied as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear; an action not missed by Calvon. Instantly, his brain started to try and piece things together. The small girl, who was actually the exact same height as him, was trying to stay composed and recover her bearings. Tucking her hair behind her ears was a sign of that--a cute sign. Once she put herself together again, she would continue by saying, “It's just, well, so ordinary. We have some kids who love to learn and take their grades seriously, and then we have others that would prefer to answer their own questions before the ones included in the Essays. It all depends on how your cookie crumbles.”

She’d end her sentence with a shrug before saying her final words, “I'm guessing the same could be said for your house.”

After hearing these words, something rare happened. Calvon’s brain--his nonstop, calculating, planning brain,--stopped. His head, like the library, was in complete silence. And if this wasn’t externally evident, then the blank, wide-eyed stare coupled with his slightly ajar mouth definitely helped to make that clear. There were no thoughts in his mind, but if his brain had to summarize it’s reaction to Elzabeth’s words, then it would’ve been: Huh?

Calvon was only in this stuck state for about a second, before quickly shaking himself out of it. Despite still being dumbfounded by the statement, it was time for him to respond. He’d turn his head to the right slightly with confusion and lean just a little bit forward. With eyes slightly narrowed in confusion, Calvon would speak--saying, “No….like not at all actually. Just yesterday I was trapped in my dorm with my other roommates by some unknown person and forced to play ‘Truth or Dare,’ in order to leave.” The Slytherin-robed boy would then begin to move around with his palms facing upwards in confusion.

“Slytherin...is sooooo not normal.” Calvon would say as he stopped moving, turned back to Elzabeth, and shook his head in confirmation. “Yea, no way. Just this summer, there was this event that made all the other students fight each other. It’s how I got this scar!” Calvon would walk back up to the girl and show her the surgical scar on his cheek. “Elzabeth, I got my jaw broken by another Slytherin student.” He’d then mumble his next words. “along with some other injuries, but yea! Like, if that’s normal, then my house isn’t normal at all--one of my very own dormmates has yellow eyes with slit,” Calvon would move both of his hands vertically up and down while speaking; “pupils!”

The schoolboy would exhale deeply before shaking his head some more and sitting in the chair he brought earlier. “Apparently some dude died.” The black haired boy would quickly stop his sentence and raise his hands and shoulders as if surrendering. “Hey, don’t ask me. I was knocked out with a broken jaw and concussion...We also have another student who walks around everywhere barefoot, so, yea, sorry, but no. The Slytherin house isn’t normal.”

@Calvon Faux

Elzabeth's mouth would open with every wild story he told her. Her eyes traced his scar and with a jolt, she suddenly remembered her own head trauma last year that had inevitably lead to her mother pulling her from Hogwarts. Elzabeth would subconsciously reach back and touch the spot her head had split open. At the time it felt as if the injury were inches long and deep, and seemed to be that way with the amount of blood that came from it, alas though it was only a tiny scar that served as a stark reminder as to how lucky she was to be back.

Not to mention the fight she had gotten into with some other students over her blood status. The bloodstains on her robes were still visible if you looked hard enough. Elzabeth tried to mask the troubled look, the last thing she wanted to do was unload that mess in front of her new friend.

Instead, she tried a smile at the odd quirks some of his housemates had, she was sure there were some Ravenclaw students that were just as unique, she just hadn't met them yet.

"I'm sorry about your injuries." Elzabeth tilted her head to the side, her hand dropping back to her side. "Did you go to the magic hospital or a muggle one?" Elzabeth wasn't even sure what his blood statice was, though it could matter less to her, she was just curious if he were one of the students that had never been introduced to her side of the world.

Her father would tell her about the magical hospital with healing potions and spells instead of medicine and needles, her fascination with the place was almost embarrassing. Sometimes she wished she would have an excuse to go and see it in action.

Elzabeth looked to Calvon, her eyes gravitating back to his scar. Just the idea of breaking her jaw hurt, she couldn't imagine what it was actually like.

As Calvon spoke about his...abnormal...experiences at Hogwarts, he could see how jarring they were to the girl. With every word her eyes and jaw would widen. It made him smirk slightly as his childish imagination began to run wild. Did he seem cool to her? Did he come off as some type of wild guy? The thought made Calvon want to uncontrollably grin, but he controlled himself. The most interesting action he observed was how the girl raised her hand to touch the back of her head when he mentioned the breaking of his jaw. Had something happened to her? From the looks of it, she seemed like she had some stories of her own or, at the very least, had some sort of injury that Calvon’s injury reminded her of. Alternatively, she could have just been touching the back of her head to comfort herself as she heard his vile recollections.

Though...the raised hands of the girl brought Calvon’s eyes to her robes. Splattered and scattered across her robe were blotches of red--dried red--but red nonetheless. At first, Calvon made nothing of it, but as he continued to look at worried face of the girl, the cogs in his head started to turn--fast. The color...wasn’t from food. Well, it could have been, but the color was slightly off. It was a deeper, more intense shade of red. It was bright or orangey like tomato or pepper stains. It appeared like…blood? Being a child, it was Calvon’s last instinct to even consider a student--or anyone for that matter--to have bloodstained clothes. But as he became more and more sure of it, his eyes began to slightly widen. The blood wasn’t the only thing the young sleuth was putting together.

As Elzabeth began to speak and ask questions, Calvon only half listened. There were too many faded blotches of red on her robe. That couldn’t have been the result of a mild accident. There was no way. Even when Calvon got his worst injuries as a kid, they were never spread out like this They were either localized in a single spot or on single side...but these marks...They were all over. As the girl finished her questions, Calvon would quickly reply.

“M-Magic...I started off in a regular, magic hospital before being transferred to the infirmary here when school started.” He’d blink and gulp as he pointed out the blotches of red on her robe. “B-But, Elzabeth...W-What happened…? Is that blood?” He’d quickly lick his lips before quickly continuing. “And is it related to the back of your head? You touched it like you got hurt…”

Calvon’s brow fought to touch each other as his eyes widened with confusion. Despite usually having great control of his emotions, something about the situation--there was something about seeing blood--made him lose all semblance of control. Maybe it was an awakening or maybe the blood evoked the primal fight or flight response that laid dormant inside of all people. Whatever it was, Calvon’s stammering made it clear. This was not him judging. No, that would be too simple of a response.

He was worried. And he was shaken.

As he continued to scan her robes, the temperature of his skin began toot drop. It was so hidden yet so evident. How did he only just notice? And what story did the innocent looking blonde hide behind those soft, beautiful blue eyes?

@Elzabeth Gillan