06th January 1866 — empty classroom, Hogwarts, late afternoon
The winter term was picking up again and Samuel Griffith, a 14-year-old Slytherin, heard the boys in the classroom before he saw them. He was early, a good 20 minutes, for the study hours that were held in this classroom. He was early for no particular reason. He'd hoped for some peace and quiet. It was a strange time in his life. Over the last half year he shot up a few inches and stood at 5'10", but he was very slight still and very irritable. His sharp bone structure, without any mass to support it, made him look fragile and pointed and vaguely androgynous. That his dark hair now grew past his chin did not help, but he was obstinate about not letting anyone else dictate those choices to him anymore, much to his mother's chagrin.
Especially the older boys recently noticed Griffith, as everyone called him, gearing up to becoming their equal, but being at the same time abnormal and not quite up to the task yet. They were ruthless in their efforts to put him in his place and nip any social ambitions in the bud.
He crossed the corner to the classroom and identified the noise as belonging to the pack of unruly lads that accompanied Gryffindor's star beater Daniel Reymund wherever he went. From what he could glean, they were entreating him to come to the pitch with them, while Reymund lingered around a table where Themis Lyra sat over some scrolls of parchment. Right, he thought, the tutoring rumour.
It was the talk among students that seventh-year Daniel Reymund tutored fifth-year prefect Lyra in Defence Against the Dark Arts. People talked about it because Reymund himself did not shut up about it, ever — except for when the girl in question was in earshot. He was planning on courting her as soon as she came out to society, people assumed, and they seemed to think them to be evenly matched. They were certainly both among the best-looking students, which appeared to be the main point of consideration.
Samuel thought to himself that if Reymund really wanted to make headway with that, he ought to not surround himself with a gaggle of his most obnoxious peers while tutoring Miss Lyra.
One of the boys discovered him approaching the doorway. "There's Griffith," he said, and Samuel felt multiple pairs of eyes find him and turn hostile. Slytherin was playing Gryffindor tomorrow. They would not do much, he thought. It was known that Lyra was a stickler for rules. She would throw a fit if they ganged up on him infront of her.
The boys now decided to head for practice and he tensed his shoulders while they pushed past him. As expected, two of them landed their hard elbows in his ribs. He bore it and solemnly slunk to a table in the middle of the room and sat down, without looking at the blonde girl and her parchment scrolls. "Good afternoon", he said politely, while putting down his books and glancing towards the clock that stood in a corner.
Especially the older boys recently noticed Griffith, as everyone called him, gearing up to becoming their equal, but being at the same time abnormal and not quite up to the task yet. They were ruthless in their efforts to put him in his place and nip any social ambitions in the bud.
He crossed the corner to the classroom and identified the noise as belonging to the pack of unruly lads that accompanied Gryffindor's star beater Daniel Reymund wherever he went. From what he could glean, they were entreating him to come to the pitch with them, while Reymund lingered around a table where Themis Lyra sat over some scrolls of parchment. Right, he thought, the tutoring rumour.
It was the talk among students that seventh-year Daniel Reymund tutored fifth-year prefect Lyra in Defence Against the Dark Arts. People talked about it because Reymund himself did not shut up about it, ever — except for when the girl in question was in earshot. He was planning on courting her as soon as she came out to society, people assumed, and they seemed to think them to be evenly matched. They were certainly both among the best-looking students, which appeared to be the main point of consideration.
Samuel thought to himself that if Reymund really wanted to make headway with that, he ought to not surround himself with a gaggle of his most obnoxious peers while tutoring Miss Lyra.
One of the boys discovered him approaching the doorway. "There's Griffith," he said, and Samuel felt multiple pairs of eyes find him and turn hostile. Slytherin was playing Gryffindor tomorrow. They would not do much, he thought. It was known that Lyra was a stickler for rules. She would throw a fit if they ganged up on him infront of her.
The boys now decided to head for practice and he tensed his shoulders while they pushed past him. As expected, two of them landed their hard elbows in his ribs. He bore it and solemnly slunk to a table in the middle of the room and sat down, without looking at the blonde girl and her parchment scrolls. "Good afternoon", he said politely, while putting down his books and glancing towards the clock that stood in a corner.
