Post by albin dimitrius allard on Jul 16, 2022 14:37:49 GMT -5
“
Something was wrong, but Albin wasn't sure any of them could have been prepared for what, exactly, had happened.
Classes had been cancelled that day, and students instructed to stay in their house's quarters unless absolutely necessary to leave. Rumors had flown immediately, the Ravenclaw common room abuzz with a thousand different theories. One seventh year had claimed he'd seen Marianna Lestrange on the grounds that morning, while a sixth year swore she'd heard the Kindred were making a move on the castle at any moment. Albin, to his credit, had kept his head down for much of the day, using the time to get caught up on his homework and rework one of his History of Magic essays. He wasn't as struggling as much as he had the previous year, but it was still clear in his writing that English wasn't his first language, and he worried for his grade on that essay. All they could do was wait until someone told them what was going on, and doing nothing wouldn't speed up the process.
What was going on, it turned out, was the murder of a student, for nothing more than the crime of being born half-veela.
The otherwise-cheery atmosphere of the Ravenclaw common room fell flat when Professor Beausejour told them of the murder of Antoinette Yorker, sudden silence filling the lofty room. Professor Beausejour answered the few questions that were raised, but otherwise, the room was left in a state of shock and quiet.
Albin stayed exactly where he was, knees pulled up to his chest with his History of Magic textbook opened on the sofa next to him, long after people began filtering out of the common room. It was only mid-evening but it seemed that the news of their classmate's death had suddenly made many people tired and need to retire to the dorms. There were still plenty of people in the common room and a good number of them crying still, but Albin just sat in shocked silence.
Evening turned into night, and soon enough it was only Albin and a few other people remaining. Albin wasn't entirely sure how long it had been since Professor Beausejour had delivered the news, only that the sky outside the windows had gone from the cool oranges and reds of sunset to the inky blackness of night.
Despite the tiredness beginning to tug at Albin's bones, beckoning upstairs to where his four-poster bed awaited him, Albin found that he couldn't move. His mind was racing, but his body was frozen in place.
After everything that had happened, all of the hardships he'd been through, Albin had finally thought he'd found somewhere he was safe. He had a mother that loved him wholly and protected him and friends that liked him for him. Hogwarts was supposed to be a safe place, a place he could be himself without fear. But how safe was it, really, if someone that was just like him could be murdered without anyone even noticing before her killer was long gone? What was to say that he wouldn't be the next half-veela to be killed for his lineage? Lauren had promised to protect him, to make sure nothing ever happened to him, but who had been there to protect Annie? What was stopping Annie's killer from coming back and killing him, or Rémie Weasley, or any of the other part-veelas that called Hogwarts their home?
"Albin?"
The spiraling thoughts that swirled through Albin's mind were almost enough to drown out Leleti's voice entirely. He hadn't even noticed her approach, eyes fixed on a spot on the far wall. He blinked, shaking his head a little, and turned to look at her. "Hm?"
Classes had been cancelled that day, and students instructed to stay in their house's quarters unless absolutely necessary to leave. Rumors had flown immediately, the Ravenclaw common room abuzz with a thousand different theories. One seventh year had claimed he'd seen Marianna Lestrange on the grounds that morning, while a sixth year swore she'd heard the Kindred were making a move on the castle at any moment. Albin, to his credit, had kept his head down for much of the day, using the time to get caught up on his homework and rework one of his History of Magic essays. He wasn't as struggling as much as he had the previous year, but it was still clear in his writing that English wasn't his first language, and he worried for his grade on that essay. All they could do was wait until someone told them what was going on, and doing nothing wouldn't speed up the process.
What was going on, it turned out, was the murder of a student, for nothing more than the crime of being born half-veela.
The otherwise-cheery atmosphere of the Ravenclaw common room fell flat when Professor Beausejour told them of the murder of Antoinette Yorker, sudden silence filling the lofty room. Professor Beausejour answered the few questions that were raised, but otherwise, the room was left in a state of shock and quiet.
Albin stayed exactly where he was, knees pulled up to his chest with his History of Magic textbook opened on the sofa next to him, long after people began filtering out of the common room. It was only mid-evening but it seemed that the news of their classmate's death had suddenly made many people tired and need to retire to the dorms. There were still plenty of people in the common room and a good number of them crying still, but Albin just sat in shocked silence.
Evening turned into night, and soon enough it was only Albin and a few other people remaining. Albin wasn't entirely sure how long it had been since Professor Beausejour had delivered the news, only that the sky outside the windows had gone from the cool oranges and reds of sunset to the inky blackness of night.
Despite the tiredness beginning to tug at Albin's bones, beckoning upstairs to where his four-poster bed awaited him, Albin found that he couldn't move. His mind was racing, but his body was frozen in place.
After everything that had happened, all of the hardships he'd been through, Albin had finally thought he'd found somewhere he was safe. He had a mother that loved him wholly and protected him and friends that liked him for him. Hogwarts was supposed to be a safe place, a place he could be himself without fear. But how safe was it, really, if someone that was just like him could be murdered without anyone even noticing before her killer was long gone? What was to say that he wouldn't be the next half-veela to be killed for his lineage? Lauren had promised to protect him, to make sure nothing ever happened to him, but who had been there to protect Annie? What was stopping Annie's killer from coming back and killing him, or Rémie Weasley, or any of the other part-veelas that called Hogwarts their home?
"Albin?"
The spiraling thoughts that swirled through Albin's mind were almost enough to drown out Leleti's voice entirely. He hadn't even noticed her approach, eyes fixed on a spot on the far wall. He blinked, shaking his head a little, and turned to look at her. "Hm?"
Albin Dimitrius
Allard★
Allard★
dandy ♫
