1 Mar 2024, 02:41
Hogwarts Express
> Mentions: Unknown
> Interactions: Open
✦
Kyrus was 11 years old when he first arrived at Kings Cross station.
Today was different. Today, Kyrus teetered behind his parents quietly, on the cusp of something frighteningly new.
In front of his cool demeanour however, his eyes were wide. It wasn't just the steam of the Hogwarts Express that made the air shimmer; it was as if reality itself bent, welcoming him to a realm where the rules were written in the language of magic. The platform buzzed with a diversity that Kyrus hadn't anticipated. Among the students, there were not just witches and wizards in their traditional robes, but beings that defied his understanding of the magical world. A far cry from the isolation and human-centric views of Gaunt Manor.
Kyrus's gaze flitted across the crowd like a butterfly, searching for faces that might look back with a spark of friendship. *Wizards and witches,* he thought, his heart skipping a beat.
You see, little Kyrus had never really had a friend before. Aunt Mallory didn't count. Nor did the little house elf who offered whispered tales at night. Then were his only companions in the vast, echoing loneliness of Gaunt Manor. And then there was the girl, a fleeting connection now lost to the darkest corners of his mind… but-
That wasn't something he allowed himself to think anymore. *Especially not on a day like now…*
It was the thought of finally going to *Hogwarts* that had kept him sane. Up all night, eyes refusing to shut as he stared out his open bedroom window. Rather, he'd had a hard time keeping a smile off his face. He'd be free to make his own decisions once he was at Hogwarts - well as much as he could. He wouldn’t be sleeping in a large, cold manor. He wouldn't be alone. He'd learn new spells. He'd have sleepovers, laughing with his friends. This was no ordinary train journey; it was a passage to a place where he might finally belong, where the shadows of Gaunt Manor would no longer loom over him. His heart, usually so guarded, now throbbed with unbridled excitement at the thought of everything new and scary all at once. Though more than anything, he couldn't breathe fast enough for he'd be making a new *friend*.
Just like Aunt Mallory had promised him, he'd find them. Soon. Maybe he'd even find out more about ancient magic. Hogwarts *had* to have some sort of books on it.
Weaving through the bustling crowd of Platform 9 and ¾, the young boy couldn't help but let his eyes steal glances towards his father. The man moved with an air of detachment, his gaze cold and judgmental even in such a magical setting, scrutinising the excited families with a disdain reserved for what he deemed lesser bloodlines. Kyrus's heart sank as he observed that all-too-familiar frown, a stark reminder of the oppressive atmosphere of Gaunt Manor that followed him like a shadow.
Attempting to cloak his burgeoning excitement with a veneer of indifference, Kyrus felt a familiar chill wrap around his heart. The joy that had bubbled within him at the thought of boarding the Hogwarts Express was quickly tempered by the icy realisation of his father's expectations. This was the dance he had been trained in since childhood: **emotions concealed, never revealed, as they were a vulnerability in his father's eyes.**
** **Would he ever find true freedom beyond these platforms, or would the spectre of his lineage continue to poison his new life at Hogwarts? The notion sent a shiver through him, a silent echo of the fear that perhaps he would never truly escape.
"Remember who you are, Kyrus," his father's voice cut through his thoughts, as cold and sharp as the winter air. They had come to a stop just before the doors of one of the carriages, the threshold to Kyrus's new life. "Do not forget the blood that runs through your veins. Hogwarts is a place for learning, not for frivolity. Make the family proud."
The words were a weighty cloak thrown over the flickers of hope and excitement Kyrus had harboured. It was here the last vestiges of his childhood wonderment faded once again into the steely resolve that had been instilled in him.
***Emotions were a weakness.**
Perhaps his father was right. Perhaps no one would be his friend if he showed them too many. Rather, would anyone even like him - even if they were other purebloods? How would he even go about talking to someone his own age?
He wanted to reach out, to be just another boy among many, yet the fear of rejection—or worse, of disdain for his vulnerability—held him back.
*‘They’ll love you, little one.’* Aunt Mallory's words, once a beacon of hope, now seemed like distant whispers from a dream. Bittersweet lies.
Peering out from behind his mother's silhouette, Kyrus's gaze wandered to the other children on the platform. He saw groups of friends reuniting with warm hugs and wide smiles, overheard snippets of conversation about the latest Quidditch matches. And then a boy his age showing off a tiny, nipping Niffler, which was playfully trying to snatch shiny coins from laughing onlookers.
Yet, the moment his father caught him in an unguarded moment of curiosity, a familiar chill crippled him still—a silent reminder of the consequences that loomed over any perceived weakness. Instinctively, he straightened his posture, retreating behind the mask of indifference he had been taught to wear. His world of wonder momentarily eclipsed back to reality.
Even his fascination with the muggle world—a realm of wonders and mysteries forbidden to him—lingered at the edges of his consciousness. A forbidden fruit he could only observe from a distance, never to taste.
“Yes, father,” Kyrus murmured, his voice barely a whisper. In that moment, he was the spitting image of his mother, not just in the autumnal hues of his hair or the pallor of his skin, untouched by the sun's embrace, but in the delicate balance of strength and vulnerability that characterised his very essence.
It was here Osiris Gaunt, with a voice as cold as the deepest winter, broke the silence. "Mallory's lost her senses, gifting him such a... creature." His eyes, devoid of warmth, briefly acknowledged the black kitten, Nines, whose innocent slumber seemed almost defiant in its tranquillity. The soft ball of fur, simple curled purely, in its almost transparent little bag on Kyrus’s trolley.
** **Celine Gaunt, her beauty marred by the sharpness of her gaze, chimed in, her tone laced with a venomous sweetness. "She always was too tender-hearted, thinking with her emotions rather than her intellect. It's unbecoming." Her laughter, light yet chilling, filled the air as she casually flicked a glance toward the kitten. "Perhaps leaving it behind during the holidays might teach him a lesson in priorities. After all, we can't have him getting too attached to such... distractions."
Feeling a wave of protectiveness surge within him, Kyrus could barely keep his voice steady. "But Nines isn't just a distraction. Aunt Mallory said—"
"Enough," his father cut him off, the word sharp enough to slice through the thickening tension. "Mallory indulges your weaknesses far too much. It's high time you learned to let go of childish attachments. Strength, power, these are the pillars upon which our family stands. Not sentimentality over pets."
His mother’s smile was a razor's edge as she leaned closer, her voice a whisper that carried the weight of iron. Her hands, curled harshly against his shoulders like an iron grip. "Imagine, darling, if every pureblood family got distracted by every cute creature they came across. We'd be no better than the muggles and their mundane obsessions."
Kyrus's heart raced as he looked sideways at Nines - the small creature oblivious to the coldness that threatened its very existence. "Yes, father," he murmured, though every fibre of his being screamed in silent protest.
He could have other excuses to stay during half terms but, where would he stay for the summer if he couldn't bring the cat? Would he really have to leave it…?
In the shadow of his parents' chilling doctrine, Kyrus felt the weight of a silent vow settle upon him. Not only would he protect Nines, but he would also guard the ember of compassion that flickered within him—a feeble defiance against the darkness that sought to claim him.
*The first of the many soon to follow.*
Amidst his parents reminding him of the house he had to get in, and to sift through a list of potential allies to make… It was here that something happened. A sudden, unexpected distraction tore through his focus like a ray of sunlight piercing through storm clouds.
As his mother tightened her grip, imparting her cold, calculated wishes for his future, his gaze inadvertently drifted across the bustling crowd. There, amidst the chaos of families and the cacophony of farewells, a girl with brunette hair, so familiar it sent a jolt of pain through his heart, collided with someone. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, a connection so intense and unexpected that it momentarily drowned out the noise around him.
As quickly as she appeared, the girl vanished into the throng, leaving Kyrus grappling with a surge of emotions he couldn't comprehend. The connection, though momentary, unleashed a tumult of feelings, a sense of loss so profound as if he had briefly touched a part of his soul he didn't know was missing, only to have it ripped away once more.
** **His parents’ words however sliced through his daze with ease, pulling him back to the harsh reality of his situation. “Kyrus, are you even listening? Focus. This is your future we're discussing. Your cousin expects great things from you. From us,” his mother chided, her voice sharp, a stark contrast to the ephemeral moment of connection he had just experienced.
For a moment, Kyrus stood there, lost between two worlds—the cold, demanding expectations of his family and the haunting, inexplicable encounter with the girl. He shook his head slightly, trying to dispel the image of her from his mind, convincing himself it was nothing more than a trick of his imagination, a desperate yearning for something beyond the rigid confines of his life.
“Yes, mother,” he murmured, forcing himself to meet her eyes once again. But somewhere, deep within, the memory of that fleeting eye contact lingered, a silent unease grew thick.
Was this some morbid form of karma?
The urge to follow that fleeting glimpse of something different, something more, welled up within him, stronger than ever. "Can I go now? I'm gonna miss the train," he found himself saying, a newfound determination in his voice. For a moment, he dared to defy the expectations, the path laid out before him, driven by the memory of that brief, magical connection.
His parents, after a brief, calculating glance, nodded. "Very well, Kyrus. Remember who you are, and what you represent." His mother's words ended sharply, getting up again as Kyrus got his luggage - meeting her smiling eyes one last time. “Don't forget to owl us the moment you get sorted.”
“Will do,” he offered a meek smile back, and to his father - then hugging his mother back, just as he always did. Acting like the perfect family they were.
And then? He was off.
As Kyrus navigated the crowded corridors of the Hogwarts Express, his heart was a tumult of emotions—curiosity piqued by the mysterious girl, and a yearning for a fresh start away from the shadows of his family's expectations. He found himself at the door of a nearly empty compartment, save for a pair of twin boys and a girl sitting opposite them. The twins bore an unmistakable air of mischief, their grins wide and welcoming, while the girl, in stark contrast, seemed aloof, her demeanor cold and unwelcoming.
"Oi, looking for a seat?" one of the twins called out, his eyes sparkling with an invitation to join their little assembly. The other twin shuffled over, patting the seat beside him, a silent gesture for Kyrus to sit.
Kyrus hesitated, momentarily taken aback by the openness of the invitation. The girl, however, merely glanced up from her book with a look that could freeze boiling water, then returned to her reading without a word.
Deciding to take a chance, Kyrus moved into the compartment, settling beside the twins. "Thanks," he murmured, placing his bag down carefully.
** **The twin next to him grinned, extending a hand. "I'm Alek, and this is Kale," he introduced, gesturing to his brother, who offered a similarly mischievous smile. “There's a third one of us, but he's off trying to find our little cousin.”
"And she's Lysandra," Kale continued, nodding towards the girl, who didn’t bother looking up this time. "Don't mind her; she thinks she's too good for us."
Lysandra's eyes snapped up, sharp and cutting. "I don't think I'm too good for anyone. I just prefer quality company," she retorted, her voice laced with disdain.
Alek chuckled, undeterred. "Oh, we've got quality in spades. It's just hidden beneath layers of charm and good looks."
The banter was foreign to Kyrus, a stark contrast to the stiff formalities of his home life. Yet, he found himself drawn into their dynamic, the warmth of genuine interaction thawing the ice of his upbringing.
"So, Kyrus, first year?" Kale asked, breaking into his thoughts.
"Yes," Kyrus replied, surprised at the interest. "How could you tell?"
"Just a hunch," Alek answered with a wink. "We're second years. Hogwarts is brilliant. You'll love it. Just watch out for the usual suspects. And us, of course."
"And probably Lysandra, if you ever beat her in a duel," Kale added with a grin. "She's a bit of a sore loser."
Lysandra rolled her eyes. "They're planning to get themselves expelled by Halloween," she corrected dryly.
Kyrus couldn't help but let his lips tug up a little. A small, genuine one that reached his eyes for the first time in what felt like forever.
> Interactions: Open
✦
Kyrus was 11 years old when he first arrived at Kings Cross station.
Today was different. Today, Kyrus teetered behind his parents quietly, on the cusp of something frighteningly new.
In front of his cool demeanour however, his eyes were wide. It wasn't just the steam of the Hogwarts Express that made the air shimmer; it was as if reality itself bent, welcoming him to a realm where the rules were written in the language of magic. The platform buzzed with a diversity that Kyrus hadn't anticipated. Among the students, there were not just witches and wizards in their traditional robes, but beings that defied his understanding of the magical world. A far cry from the isolation and human-centric views of Gaunt Manor.
Kyrus's gaze flitted across the crowd like a butterfly, searching for faces that might look back with a spark of friendship. *Wizards and witches,* he thought, his heart skipping a beat.
You see, little Kyrus had never really had a friend before. Aunt Mallory didn't count. Nor did the little house elf who offered whispered tales at night. Then were his only companions in the vast, echoing loneliness of Gaunt Manor. And then there was the girl, a fleeting connection now lost to the darkest corners of his mind… but-
That wasn't something he allowed himself to think anymore. *Especially not on a day like now…*
It was the thought of finally going to *Hogwarts* that had kept him sane. Up all night, eyes refusing to shut as he stared out his open bedroom window. Rather, he'd had a hard time keeping a smile off his face. He'd be free to make his own decisions once he was at Hogwarts - well as much as he could. He wouldn’t be sleeping in a large, cold manor. He wouldn't be alone. He'd learn new spells. He'd have sleepovers, laughing with his friends. This was no ordinary train journey; it was a passage to a place where he might finally belong, where the shadows of Gaunt Manor would no longer loom over him. His heart, usually so guarded, now throbbed with unbridled excitement at the thought of everything new and scary all at once. Though more than anything, he couldn't breathe fast enough for he'd be making a new *friend*.
Just like Aunt Mallory had promised him, he'd find them. Soon. Maybe he'd even find out more about ancient magic. Hogwarts *had* to have some sort of books on it.
Weaving through the bustling crowd of Platform 9 and ¾, the young boy couldn't help but let his eyes steal glances towards his father. The man moved with an air of detachment, his gaze cold and judgmental even in such a magical setting, scrutinising the excited families with a disdain reserved for what he deemed lesser bloodlines. Kyrus's heart sank as he observed that all-too-familiar frown, a stark reminder of the oppressive atmosphere of Gaunt Manor that followed him like a shadow.
Attempting to cloak his burgeoning excitement with a veneer of indifference, Kyrus felt a familiar chill wrap around his heart. The joy that had bubbled within him at the thought of boarding the Hogwarts Express was quickly tempered by the icy realisation of his father's expectations. This was the dance he had been trained in since childhood: **emotions concealed, never revealed, as they were a vulnerability in his father's eyes.**
** **Would he ever find true freedom beyond these platforms, or would the spectre of his lineage continue to poison his new life at Hogwarts? The notion sent a shiver through him, a silent echo of the fear that perhaps he would never truly escape.
"Remember who you are, Kyrus," his father's voice cut through his thoughts, as cold and sharp as the winter air. They had come to a stop just before the doors of one of the carriages, the threshold to Kyrus's new life. "Do not forget the blood that runs through your veins. Hogwarts is a place for learning, not for frivolity. Make the family proud."
The words were a weighty cloak thrown over the flickers of hope and excitement Kyrus had harboured. It was here the last vestiges of his childhood wonderment faded once again into the steely resolve that had been instilled in him.
***Emotions were a weakness.**
Perhaps his father was right. Perhaps no one would be his friend if he showed them too many. Rather, would anyone even like him - even if they were other purebloods? How would he even go about talking to someone his own age?
He wanted to reach out, to be just another boy among many, yet the fear of rejection—or worse, of disdain for his vulnerability—held him back.
*‘They’ll love you, little one.’* Aunt Mallory's words, once a beacon of hope, now seemed like distant whispers from a dream. Bittersweet lies.
Peering out from behind his mother's silhouette, Kyrus's gaze wandered to the other children on the platform. He saw groups of friends reuniting with warm hugs and wide smiles, overheard snippets of conversation about the latest Quidditch matches. And then a boy his age showing off a tiny, nipping Niffler, which was playfully trying to snatch shiny coins from laughing onlookers.
Yet, the moment his father caught him in an unguarded moment of curiosity, a familiar chill crippled him still—a silent reminder of the consequences that loomed over any perceived weakness. Instinctively, he straightened his posture, retreating behind the mask of indifference he had been taught to wear. His world of wonder momentarily eclipsed back to reality.
Even his fascination with the muggle world—a realm of wonders and mysteries forbidden to him—lingered at the edges of his consciousness. A forbidden fruit he could only observe from a distance, never to taste.
“Yes, father,” Kyrus murmured, his voice barely a whisper. In that moment, he was the spitting image of his mother, not just in the autumnal hues of his hair or the pallor of his skin, untouched by the sun's embrace, but in the delicate balance of strength and vulnerability that characterised his very essence.
It was here Osiris Gaunt, with a voice as cold as the deepest winter, broke the silence. "Mallory's lost her senses, gifting him such a... creature." His eyes, devoid of warmth, briefly acknowledged the black kitten, Nines, whose innocent slumber seemed almost defiant in its tranquillity. The soft ball of fur, simple curled purely, in its almost transparent little bag on Kyrus’s trolley.
** **Celine Gaunt, her beauty marred by the sharpness of her gaze, chimed in, her tone laced with a venomous sweetness. "She always was too tender-hearted, thinking with her emotions rather than her intellect. It's unbecoming." Her laughter, light yet chilling, filled the air as she casually flicked a glance toward the kitten. "Perhaps leaving it behind during the holidays might teach him a lesson in priorities. After all, we can't have him getting too attached to such... distractions."
Feeling a wave of protectiveness surge within him, Kyrus could barely keep his voice steady. "But Nines isn't just a distraction. Aunt Mallory said—"
"Enough," his father cut him off, the word sharp enough to slice through the thickening tension. "Mallory indulges your weaknesses far too much. It's high time you learned to let go of childish attachments. Strength, power, these are the pillars upon which our family stands. Not sentimentality over pets."
His mother’s smile was a razor's edge as she leaned closer, her voice a whisper that carried the weight of iron. Her hands, curled harshly against his shoulders like an iron grip. "Imagine, darling, if every pureblood family got distracted by every cute creature they came across. We'd be no better than the muggles and their mundane obsessions."
Kyrus's heart raced as he looked sideways at Nines - the small creature oblivious to the coldness that threatened its very existence. "Yes, father," he murmured, though every fibre of his being screamed in silent protest.
He could have other excuses to stay during half terms but, where would he stay for the summer if he couldn't bring the cat? Would he really have to leave it…?
In the shadow of his parents' chilling doctrine, Kyrus felt the weight of a silent vow settle upon him. Not only would he protect Nines, but he would also guard the ember of compassion that flickered within him—a feeble defiance against the darkness that sought to claim him.
*The first of the many soon to follow.*
Amidst his parents reminding him of the house he had to get in, and to sift through a list of potential allies to make… It was here that something happened. A sudden, unexpected distraction tore through his focus like a ray of sunlight piercing through storm clouds.
As his mother tightened her grip, imparting her cold, calculated wishes for his future, his gaze inadvertently drifted across the bustling crowd. There, amidst the chaos of families and the cacophony of farewells, a girl with brunette hair, so familiar it sent a jolt of pain through his heart, collided with someone. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, a connection so intense and unexpected that it momentarily drowned out the noise around him.
As quickly as she appeared, the girl vanished into the throng, leaving Kyrus grappling with a surge of emotions he couldn't comprehend. The connection, though momentary, unleashed a tumult of feelings, a sense of loss so profound as if he had briefly touched a part of his soul he didn't know was missing, only to have it ripped away once more.
** **His parents’ words however sliced through his daze with ease, pulling him back to the harsh reality of his situation. “Kyrus, are you even listening? Focus. This is your future we're discussing. Your cousin expects great things from you. From us,” his mother chided, her voice sharp, a stark contrast to the ephemeral moment of connection he had just experienced.
For a moment, Kyrus stood there, lost between two worlds—the cold, demanding expectations of his family and the haunting, inexplicable encounter with the girl. He shook his head slightly, trying to dispel the image of her from his mind, convincing himself it was nothing more than a trick of his imagination, a desperate yearning for something beyond the rigid confines of his life.
“Yes, mother,” he murmured, forcing himself to meet her eyes once again. But somewhere, deep within, the memory of that fleeting eye contact lingered, a silent unease grew thick.
Was this some morbid form of karma?
The urge to follow that fleeting glimpse of something different, something more, welled up within him, stronger than ever. "Can I go now? I'm gonna miss the train," he found himself saying, a newfound determination in his voice. For a moment, he dared to defy the expectations, the path laid out before him, driven by the memory of that brief, magical connection.
His parents, after a brief, calculating glance, nodded. "Very well, Kyrus. Remember who you are, and what you represent." His mother's words ended sharply, getting up again as Kyrus got his luggage - meeting her smiling eyes one last time. “Don't forget to owl us the moment you get sorted.”
“Will do,” he offered a meek smile back, and to his father - then hugging his mother back, just as he always did. Acting like the perfect family they were.
And then? He was off.
As Kyrus navigated the crowded corridors of the Hogwarts Express, his heart was a tumult of emotions—curiosity piqued by the mysterious girl, and a yearning for a fresh start away from the shadows of his family's expectations. He found himself at the door of a nearly empty compartment, save for a pair of twin boys and a girl sitting opposite them. The twins bore an unmistakable air of mischief, their grins wide and welcoming, while the girl, in stark contrast, seemed aloof, her demeanor cold and unwelcoming.
"Oi, looking for a seat?" one of the twins called out, his eyes sparkling with an invitation to join their little assembly. The other twin shuffled over, patting the seat beside him, a silent gesture for Kyrus to sit.
Kyrus hesitated, momentarily taken aback by the openness of the invitation. The girl, however, merely glanced up from her book with a look that could freeze boiling water, then returned to her reading without a word.
Deciding to take a chance, Kyrus moved into the compartment, settling beside the twins. "Thanks," he murmured, placing his bag down carefully.
** **The twin next to him grinned, extending a hand. "I'm Alek, and this is Kale," he introduced, gesturing to his brother, who offered a similarly mischievous smile. “There's a third one of us, but he's off trying to find our little cousin.”
"And she's Lysandra," Kale continued, nodding towards the girl, who didn’t bother looking up this time. "Don't mind her; she thinks she's too good for us."
Lysandra's eyes snapped up, sharp and cutting. "I don't think I'm too good for anyone. I just prefer quality company," she retorted, her voice laced with disdain.
Alek chuckled, undeterred. "Oh, we've got quality in spades. It's just hidden beneath layers of charm and good looks."
The banter was foreign to Kyrus, a stark contrast to the stiff formalities of his home life. Yet, he found himself drawn into their dynamic, the warmth of genuine interaction thawing the ice of his upbringing.
"So, Kyrus, first year?" Kale asked, breaking into his thoughts.
"Yes," Kyrus replied, surprised at the interest. "How could you tell?"
"Just a hunch," Alek answered with a wink. "We're second years. Hogwarts is brilliant. You'll love it. Just watch out for the usual suspects. And us, of course."
"And probably Lysandra, if you ever beat her in a duel," Kale added with a grin. "She's a bit of a sore loser."
Lysandra rolled her eyes. "They're planning to get themselves expelled by Halloween," she corrected dryly.
Kyrus couldn't help but let his lips tug up a little. A small, genuine one that reached his eyes for the first time in what felt like forever.