Drains me Slowly(Open)

[leonardo]

The cold stone beneath his feet echoed through the cold soles of his shoe. Running up his toes, and legs a long shiver ran through him as he looked around the large entrance hall. Each step echoed off the floors, making a small pat that reverberated into the enormous room. The black set of robes around him swayed as he stepped, their edges brushing the ground. The ends had begun to fray, a simple thing to fix, but he really didn't care to mess with it right now.

The large encompassing area of space was slightly intimidating to any person. Leon could sorta remember when he first set foot into this hall, all the emotions that ran through his mind. It was so odd, figuring out all this craziness existed. Magic was one of those things that was told in stories, and those myths that no one really believes about, right? Well, the orphan of two unknown parents had been taught that this was no myth or lie, it was reality in all aspects. It was such a complex art form, like painting or swords play only more intricate in Leon’s perspective.

Stepping down towards one of the benches that was for any passing person in need of a nice seat to stop, and do homework, rest, or some other miscellaneous things. It’s stone frame like some kind of out crop of the floor, turning into the seat, and flowing into the intricate design of it’s make. Everything in this castle was a magnificent masterpiece, sculpted out of the pure talent of the people who had designed it. Such grace and beauty pored into one object it seemed impossible that anyone could do anything to this magnitude.

The bench was cool to the touch, even under Leon’s cold fingers. The heat lost in the vastness of this unwelcoming climate, disappearing as it tried to warp into the warm sensation that this castle very rarely let through it’s thick walls. Pulling the scarf he wore tighter around his neck, it warmed him a bit as he sat down, and put his books next to him. The things were a burden to carry around, it wasn’t as if he really cared about what grades he got, but he would like to do something with his life, so he had to do something.

Outside the snow fell gently through the air, falling onto the world in a swirl of the light liquid, and landing on its victims. It’s alluring nature didn’t draw Leon, it seemed like some frivolous thing that was messy, and cold and he needed no help being cold. All he wanted to do was curl up by a fire, but if he went into the common room he wouldn’t be able to concentrate and he really had to do this, his grades were low enough already.

Getting a pen out of his bag he felt like one of those nerdy Ravenclaws as he began to write on the piece of parchment that he rolled out. Looking over at the book every once in a while, it didn’t really matter he already knew most of it. Transfiguration was one of the only things he was good at, and he typically could do most things pretty well. Why he had to write an essay for any class did boggle his mind though, they were very wasteful of time and resources.

Every once in a while something would draw his attention, but he didn’t think that anyone would come near him. The young Slytherin had one of those looks on his face that said ‘stay away’, but he didn’t know he might not be that convincing. Sighing he began scribbling again.

[Xavier Scotts]

Being the youngest in a large family, the one thing Xavier valued most of all was privacy. Sometimes he would sneak out of the common room and wander around the castle, using a magically modified version of muggle headphones to listen to the music that he liked. His favorite kind of music was rock and roll--the louder, the better. Today he was blasting Black Sabbath as he walked aimlessly through the halls, effectively shutting out the rest of the world.

The trouble was, it seemed that, where ever he went, the world would find him, bursting into his solitude and forcing its way through the barrier of sound he created. This time the intrusion came in the form of a fellow Slytherin, sitting on a bench in the entrance hall. He probably would have been able to ignore the boy, however, if it hadn't been for the trick step, which caused him to fly backwards and hit the ground, his headphones skidding across the floor to stop at the feet of the other boy.

[leonardo]

The last word of the last sentence of the essay he wrote down in his flowing, but somehow rigid writing finishing and made a little dot. Holding up the paper he examined it one last time, and in a dignified nod he decided that it was just perfect. It had taken him a while to write the whole thing out, but the words had flowed like he had simply been transcribing them. It had been nearly flawless in the first try, and had only had to make a few changes to it through out writing it.

Suddenly a large crash echoed to his ears, perking his interest as he looked up to find a young third year sprawled on the ground. The fourth year wasn’t that much older then him, but he was older, and that’s all that really mattered. It wasn’t so much about being older, then just the fact that he could command more people, and he was more experienced. Leon wasn’t just about power, but he lusted after it, wanted it, yearned for it.

The young man was sprawled on the floor, caught up by a trick step, the he would admit had gotten a few times when he was a first year. Still, this boy wasn’t a third year, and therefore he had no pity for him, and his blunder, it was kinda humorous. It would have been more funny, though if he had fell down one of the stairs like he had seen some of the other kids do. Leon had never been so stupid as to do that, he was always a bit more observant then others seemed to be. It hadn’t taken him only a few days to memorize most of the halls that he had to follow, and all their twists and turns. Since then he had figured out some more of the tunnels, and hidden passages that make this place more navigable.

Landing at his feet was a pair of headphones, that seemed to have fallen from the boy when he had fallen to the floor. Laying his paper to the side he gingerly bent over, and picked up the headphones, trying to be nice since this kid was Slytherin. Pulling them up he held them in a ball in his hand as he walked over to give them to the boy, still trying to be nice.

“Here, take these, and please try not to hurt yourself.”

The thick, slimy voice of the Slytherin gently floated across the room, somehow both sinister, and soft at the same time. Holding out the earphones for the man he waited for him to take it, not really caring if he had wanted him to pick them up or not. He was trying to be nice, and that should suit the little man for now.

[Xavier Scotts]

Clumsiness was not typical for Xavier. He was a Scotts, for Salazar's sake. Weakness and imperfection was supposed to be for other people. Or at least, his brother Timothy. But Xavier... he was the golden child, was he not? How could he have been so stupid as to forget about the trick stair?

He sat up slowly, eying the fellow Slytherin as he came over and handed him his headphones. "Thanks," he said quietly, taking them from the older boy.

Xavier knew most of the Slytherins, by face if not by name. But he didn't know this boy. Worse, the boy didn't seem to know him. And although Xavier was usually embarrassed about the fuss that was made over his family name, it still secretly bothered him when people didn't acknowledge it at all.

"I'm Xavier Scotts," he said, studying the boy's face for a flash of recognition.