Closed Trying PV Hikari

Speech - Thoughts

The winds were the most charming part of the Viaducts, Hikari mused, stopping mid-step to feel the cool breeze on his face. The stone bridge hung over a ravine, suspended in the air, and smelled of the sea, and something old and ancient that was always within Hogwarts. Hikari could see the waves, deep down below, washing up against the jagged rocks. It was beautiful, the peace and silence of the place was well sought after, considering that the Hogwarts Castle, so unlike the discipline of their own school, always seemed to be alive with laughter and happiness.

Hikari missed Mahautokoro. He sighed, feeling the wind play with the strands of his brown hair, and couldn't help but let the homesickness seep a little deeper. Mahautokoro had its own kind of magic; the pink tinted castle, the classrooms, and the cherry blossoms. Now, in the loud, sprawling chaos of Hogwarts, his own school felt like a memory floating far away.

He barely noticed his thoughts drift away with the wind.

It was alright, he supposed. The people— the few he had crossed paths with— were kind enough. There was an air of comfort within the stone walls, a surprising lack of formality, a hint of closeness, which Hikari hadn't realised he had missed until then.

The interruption came in the form of a female voice, cutting into his thoughts like a pebble dropped into still water. Hikari turned, startled, grey eyes meeting a pair of brown ones.

Eleven years of being raised by his father had taught Hikari to keep his face impassive as and when he wanted. However, five years of grappling with his Metamorphmagus abilities had not been enough to master the more traitorous parts of himself, and Hikari did not need to look to know that his hair had flashed a brilliant purple— the betrayal of emotions his face never showed. He ignored it, eyes steady as he opted to answer the girl, "The transfiguration classroom is on the fifth floor."

There was—at first—something formidable about her new acquaintance. Something about his countenance suggested a strength that she knew she did not display herself. And yet—

—his hair flashed a brilliant shade of purple. She blinked—twice—but there was no denying it. It was completely, absolutely purple. Yet the boy did not seem to be aware at all. "Vos cheveux..." she began in disbelief as her fingers raised to point it out, "Your hair...it is purple!" Perhaps in some circles such a comment might seem rude, but Akerrah it was as simple as pointing out that someone had a bit of food stuck in their teeth. And no one wants to walk around like that, do they?

Well, that simple, and clearly not at the same time. Because people don't have their hair just change color. There was probably a spell as there was a spell for everything, but she didn't think that way and she'd simply never seen anything like this. Looking around, she realized there was only one thing in her immediate vicinity that might help. Reaching up, she gently unpinned her blue Beauxbatons hat before reaching out and offering it to him. "Perhaps you can wear this," she suggested haphazardly, "Until we figure out what is wrong."

Because something was wrong whether it was a spell she hadn't seen or perhaps he'd ingested a strange potion. And suddenly at the realization he might have to go the hospital wing—where was that?—all considerations of gobstones and the transfiguration courtyard (again, where was that? or was it a classroom as he'd said?) quickly evaporated from the top of her mind. She didn't know this boy, but she knew that she'd want someone to tell her if her hair randomly changed color. Surely, the kids at her inner city school would have called her a freak for something like that.

Maybe somehow trying to make friends wasn't a goal. Rather, it was just trying to avert a social crisis.

@Hikari Fujimoto

Japanese -English - Thoughts

Yet another person who found it necessary to point out his ever-changing facial features.

Hikari resisted the urge to sigh. It made him wonder if these people had never seen or heard of metamorphmagi before. Did they ever read books on magical bloodlines? Or did they just choose to forget the existence of metamorphmagi outside of fairy tales.

Sure it wasn't very common, but all the same, in a world where wands, literally sticks of wood, could change the laws of physics, how uncommon could it be?

He said nothing. It wasn't the first time, wouldn't be the last either. People always seemed to be compelled to bring it to his attention when his hair changed color. Like it was a spectacle rather than a trait. A conversation piece. He never told them that he could mostly feel the changes happening.

And he really hated the attention.

But, the girl's words, cutting through his thoughts, caused him to pause.

She didn't ask how it worked, didn't laugh, and point and try to touch like others always did. No— she looked at him as if he had malfunctioned. As if the change wasn't supposed to happen, like he didn't know it had.

Like it was a spell gone wrong.

Well, that was a first.

Normally people were way too busy asking him how he did it. Trying to touch, pointing. Most people knew what it meant, or at least pretended to. She didn't. Or chose not to. It didn't matter.

She had even offered him a hat.

Hikari's eyes shifted between the girl and her outstretched hands, and finally he shook his head.

"No thank you. It'll pass."