veronicasnidget Slytherin Student Veronica Snidget member is offline
Joined: Aug 2005 Posts: 17
Nighttime Thoughts (Open) « Thread Started on Aug 23, 2005, 5:20pm »
Ronnie slipped into the North Tower silently. She smiled and let out a sigh. She had missed this place, that was for sure. She was used to coming up to the towers at nighttime. It was most definitely her favorite time. So dark and peaceful. And all the stars scattered across the black sky. There was no prettier sight. She went over to the window ledge and sat down on it, her back against the side. She swung her legs over the egde so that they dangled from the tower. A smile appeared on her face as she looked out at the grounds. Yes, this was most definitely her favorite time to be out and about.
A cold breeze rushed by, sending her hair flying in all directions, and causing chill bumps to spread up her arms. She picked up the sweater she had dropped on the ground when she entered and carefully pulled it over her head before trying to fix her hair into a more presentable state. Not that she thought anyone would come up here, but she always felt better if she knew she looked better. She sighed, wishing she had some company, but then thought if the wrong person came up here like a prefect or teacher, she would be in a lot of trouble. After all, she was supposed to be in bed and not up roaming the castle. But Ronnie just had to come look at the stars, and she definitely couldn't do that from the common room down in the dungeon. No, this was the only way to do it right.
Emerys was upset. He had just bombed a homework paper-for no reason other than he had misread the question. And it had been a really long essay. He had spent quite a bit of time on it, and it had been very well written, just as most of his work was. He had been confident that he would receive an Outstanding. Only to get his paper back with a fat D written on it, and a note from his defense against the dark arts teacher explaining that he had no idea whatsoever what Emerys was talking about, that this grade was quite out of character for the fourth year, and that he strongly advised Emerys to step it up. Oh yeah, and that the teacher was disappointed in him.
That was the killer. Emerys, overachiever though he was, could have lived with the grade. He doubted he could live with the disappointment. No, the Gryffindor was not suicidal-he just wanted to be the best. Emerys was the type of kid who needed people to like and respect him. When someone was mad at him…well, then he was mad at himself.
Usually, when he was in a bad mood, the fourth year took solace in the stables. But there had been a bit of an issue a few days ago with being in the stables after hours…Linton had turned out to be a nice enough person, but Emerys did not want to be caught again. So he had turned to the towers. He loved looking up at the stars; he believed, though he did not believe in divination, that one’s future could be found in the stars. He thought that, if you stared long enough at them, everything became clear to you.
It was slightly hard for him to tramp all the way up to the North Tower with his crutches, but Emerys managed it. He had, after all, been using the crutches for long enough that he could maneuver practically anywhere with them. He entered the tower, ready for a good, long, private stargaze, only to find it already occupied. He stared at the other member, a girl, Slytherin by the look of her. He almost ignored her, but remembered that he’d had a fine conversation with a Slytherin before-Linton had even given him advice on school. If he could strike a conversation with one Slytherin, why not another one? He opened his mouth.
Ronnie jumped slightly as she heard a sudden voice from behind. She probably would've fallen from the tower had she not grabbed the edge. She turned around so that her legs were back inside the tower, her feet resting on the stone floor. She was shaking slightly, a mix of being cold and knowing that she had almost fallen to the grassy earth below. She took in a deep breath as she looked towards the person who had surprised her, jumping in on her silent stargazing. She frowned to see it was a Gryffindor.
"What do you think you're doing scaring a girl half to death and almost making her fall from the top of a tower?" she said, a bit louder than she had meant to.
She took in a deep breath as she looked over the Gryffindor. She shook her head slowly, taking in a deep breath. He may have been a Gryffindor but he was still company, and this was not the best way to start off meeting someone. She took in another deep breath, and smiled softly.
She spoke again, this time softer. "Sorry. You just surprised me is all." She pushed a few blonde locks behind her ear. "And yes, it is a nice night." She offered her hand. "I'm Ronnie. And who, may I ask, are you?"
Emerys, who had thought his approach to be loud enough that the Slytherin wouldn’t be scared, was therefore slightly surprised at her obvious shock at his approach. She even looked, for a moment, as though she were about to fall off the tower, which would certainly not have been a positive aspect of his night. As she tottered slightly, he made a move to steady her, but was too far away to really do much but look silly, with one hand, holding a long crutch, reaching out, while leaning on his other crutch so that his missing leg would not cause him to fall. That would be embarrassing in the extreme.
The Slytherin did not seem happy to see the fourth year at first, likely, thought Emerys, because he was a Gryffindor. It had been his experience that Slytherins didn’t like Gryffindors much, or any other house, for that matter. At least, this had been his view up until a few days ago, when Linton had proved him wrong. Linton had been…a flaw to the theory, though. He had seemed different than the other Slytherins he’d met. Well, who knew? Perhaps this girl would be a flaw, as well.
"What do you think you're doing scaring a girl half to death and almost making her fall from the top of a tower?"
“I’m sorry” Muttered the Gryffindor, though he really didn’t think he had anything to be sorry about. It wasn’t, after all, his fault that she had been sitting on a tower. Not the brightest place to sit, if you thought about it; that was quite a long fall-likely not in the top ten seat choices, if there were such a list. It seemed that this girl was just like most Slytherins-crabby and quick to make assumptions.
But he was making assumptions too, Emerys reminded himself, running a hand through his hair. He had only just met the girl; he should give her a chance. And, indeed, with her next comment it seemed that he was right in giving her a second chance.
"Sorry. You just surprised me is all."
Well, she certainly had been surprised.
"And yes, it is a nice night. I'm Ronnie. And who, may I ask, are you?"
“Emerys” he replied easily, taking the proffered hand. He felt he ought to say something else, but just couldn’t think of what. He had always been slightly shy, especially around girls. In fact, the only place he wasn’t shy was around horses, and as he didn’t really think it would be reasonable to ask the Slytherin to behave like a horse so that he could strike up a conversation, he would just have to accept the fact that there was really nothing he could say.
Ronnie had somewhat expected at least a little more. One word didn't leave much to talk about. She twirled a few blonde locks between two fingers, twirling it a bit as she looked back out the window, not on the inner part of the sill. She moved over towards one side, leaving the other open as she looked back up at him, a soft smile at her lips. "Well, Emerys, it's very nice to meet you. You can have a seat if you'd like."
She shivered slightly as another breeze brushed by. It was definitely a chilly night. But the sky was clear and perfect for stargazing, Ronnie's favorite hobby. She absolutely loved looking out among the stars. Sometimes she would identify constellations, sometimes she would attach a thought, care, or wish to each star, and sometimes she would just sit there and stare at the sky, admiring all its beauty. "Aren't they beautiful?" She asked softly, looking back to Emerys. She had jumped down his throat when he first showed up (she had inherited her father's temper) and was determined to show him she wasn't always like that.
She rubbed her arms as she looked back out at the sky and then around the grounds of Hogwarts. "What are you looking forward to this year at Hogwarts?" She asked as she examined everything at Hogwarts, a smile settling on her face. She was glad to be back, and wouldn't deny it. It was her one chance to be the only one of her family here at Hogwarts for the first time. This year nobody would refer to her as Erica's little sister, or Michele's little sister. Ronnie's goal was to have the majority of the school know her name by the end of term, though she wasn't entirely sure how she was going to achieve it.
The Slytherin looked slightly expectant after Emerys had spoken, as if she had expected him to keep talking. Emerys knew that there were many times when he should speak more and he didn’t, and he wouldn’t have blamed the girl if she had merely smiled and then ignored him-most people didn’t like talking to silent people. The fourth year had figured out that much in his life.
"Well, Emerys, it's very nice to meet you. You can have a seat if you'd like."
“Thank you.” He spoke softly, uncertainly, and swung his crutches around to move to the stone turrets. He leaned the crutches against the stone, and used his arms to swing himself up beside the girl. But he kept one hand on the crutches all the same-he didn’t know Ronnie very well, and it was possible that she had a mean sense of humor. That she would think it funny to see a crippled boy hopping one-legged down the tower stairs, because she had stolen his means of transportation. It wasn’t as if that type of thing was unheard of.
Emerys sighed. He hoped this girl wouldn’t be like that.
"Aren't they beautiful?"
The fourth year tilted his head back calculatingly. Yes, they certainly were beautiful. He had always liked being outside-back at home, he had often slept under the stars, just to be surrounded by the weight of night, and immersed in the light of the stars. He wouldn’t say all of this to the girl-or to anyone, for that matter. Emerys was usually one to keep his thoughts to himself-it had been his experience that no one really cared about what he was thinking and feeling, in any case. Yet he felt it would be beyond rude to not comment, so he commented:
“Yes, they are.” Again, he felt as though he should add more, but didn’t. Or couldn’t.
"What are you looking forward to this year at Hogwarts?"
Emerys thought about this. He supposed he was looking forward to quite a few things, though his mood wasn’t quite light enough to voice all the good things about the school. In fact, what he really wanted to do was curse his DADA teacher. How dare she give him a D when he’d worked so hard at that paper? But Emerys’s anger quickly turned to himself. It was his own fault for not reading the question, after all.
After a few moments, Emerys remembered that he had been asked a question. He bit his lip, before replying, “Well, riding, mostly. I work as a stablehand in the summer, so I get to be around horses a lot then, but my job doesn’t give me much time to ride.” More like he was asked so many questions when he was caught riding that he’d practically given it up over the summer. Questions like ‘how do you ride so well?’ meaning, ‘how do you ride so well, seeing as you were brought up an orphaned peasant.' Which was not true. In the first place, he was not an orphan. And in the second, he was a noble.Or maybe he wasn’t, anymore. Was one still what one was born, if one was disowned? He didn’t know.
He stared down at the floor, a foot below his dangling foot. Two feet below his stump of a left leg. That was the other reason he didn’t like riding in front of people. He hated their well meant and yet hurtful questions of ‘how do you ride with only one full leg?’ like it was any of their business. Emerys sighed again. He was just being sour because of his mood; these thoughts didn’t usually run through his head.
He continued his response to the Slytherin’s question. “But I also just like some of my classes, you know? I mean, some are awful, but…potions is fun, sometimes. As is transfiguration.” He hoped he wouldn’t be deemed ‘weird’ because he liked parts of school. He was already deemed weird by a physical defect-he didn’t want his personality to help in that assumption. Still, if the Gryffindor was anything, he was honest. And if he were asked a question, he would answer it honestly, however ‘weird’ that answer sounded. Or maybe it was the fact that he would always say the honest truth that made him weird in the first place.
Or maybe he wasn’t weird at all. Who defined what was normal and what was abnormal, anyway?
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