The sun was white, whiter than snow, and many of the children out that afternoon likely yearned for snow. The weather, after all, was something close to sweltering; at least by Scottish standards. It was the last day before the summer holidays and there was no more studying to be had. No more homework, no more revision, no more sneezing through dusty tomes in the library. Just some sunny, relative sense of freedom. But, like many orphans, Clue was not anticipating the summer break with any kind of glee. Hogwarts was the only home he had, but it unceremoniously abandoned him each year to eight weeks of din and dearth.

As pale as the efficacious sun, Clue sat cross-legged on the bank of the Black Lake. Boys swam in the water, girls bathed their feet and squealed as the boys splashed them. Clue watched the water lap against the shore; it was rhythmic, as if the lake had a pulse. ”Perhaps”, he uttered aloud, ”if I were to hide.”

Aleksei Nichols