A Moment of Respite solo finished

Elijah didn’t let himself breathe until the soles of his ratty converse hit the pavement beneath the window, immediately exposing him to the cold night air. He skimmed the dark courtyard once to confirm he was alone before setting off along the perimeter of the castle, footsteps quiet as he drew his arms tighter around himself against the chill. The wind was annoyingly loud in his ears, cold enough to make them hurt, but he continued walking with purpose, scanning the area in front of him. It was only when he rounded the corner that he found it; a little alcove in the stone wall barely 30cm deep with a simple wooden bench pushed up against it. He collapsed onto it gratefully and pulled his legs up so he could wrap his arms around them, chin resting on his knees. The alcove and corner provided some shelter from the wind and his ears tingled with an illusion of warmth now that they weren’t being assaulted. Finally having achieved his goal, Elijah closed his eyes and took a moment to just.

Breathe.

When he opened them again, he took in his surroundings properly for the first time. It was dark, a grey footpath ran along the side of the castle in front of him but beyond that was grass, stretching out into the distance until it ran into the dark mass on the horizon that could only be the forest. There were no lamp posts out here, and the only fires he’d seen lit outside coming into the welcome ceremony were the ones next to the giant double doors that made the front gate. Now, the only light came from the moon, large and round in its waning gibbous phase only a day after the full. It cast the night in a silvery glow but it wasn’t stagnant. Clouds rolled across it, creating strange shadows in the grass that rippled with the wind. The sound of rustling leaves and the constant sigh of a breeze made for great white noise. The night was painfully alive and Elijah filled his lungs with cold trying to breathe it all in.

And then, slowly, he let the thoughts roll in. Train. Magic. Sorting Ceremony. Hogwarts. Gryffindor. Dorms. His mind flashed with images of deep red and hearths filled with flames and clasping clammy palms in handshakes. Warm. So far, everything about coming to Hogwarts had been warm. It was a word with positive connotations and it had been pretty positive - colourful and full of sights and scents he’d never dreamed of seeing. But it was also A Lot. He thought back to the Great Hall and how its air had been buzzing with magic and energy, how it had stuck to his tongue and sat heavy in his lungs like they were being filled up but never emptied. It was warm, but at some point it had become a little suffocating too.

The thought gave a mental click as he placed it; overwhelmed. That was the weight pressing on his chest right now, the one he was slowly easing away with every lungful of chilled air. He had grown up in a cold town, with foggy nights and streets that were perpetually wet with precipitation. He loved those streets, had come to know them intimately over the course of his life. That’s the street sign he had ridden his bike into and knocked a tooth loose when he was five. That’s the disused basketball court where Marcus’s girlfriend passed him a bottle and laughed when he spent the night throwing up in the bushes at seven. That’s the apple stall he stole from at eight that resulted in his first instance of magic, the pub he’d snuck into to see his first live show at nine, the house - point is, he didn’t regret his childhood, but Bridgend was like every other backwater town; hard to escape, stagnant in time, a graveyard of dreams and opportunities. Elijah had always hungered for more and then the letter arrived like the most convenient ticket out into the world and he was so ready to leave. He was here now, with all its warmth and bright and loud. But he was also Here now, with all its cold and alone and quiet. He would never regret leaving, but maybe it was ok then, just during the night, to let himself miss home a little.

He settled back against the stone wall, head once again resting on his knees as he blinked sleepily at the night sky. His eyelids were heavy but his chest was light, and he let them slide shut for just a moment.

When he opened them again, the horizon had turned a very light pink.