15th February, 1891 — A Hogwarts Staircase
The past few weeks had been a flurry of training for the match, and to have lost to Slytherin by a ten point margin on Saturday was the most aggravating kind of loss, the kind that made Nelson very much wish they’d had bludgers on the field to knock Abney off his broom before he’d seized the snitch instead.
There wasn’t much time to wallow about it, though, because now he had the last week’s worth of homework to catch up on. Thankfully, there was nothing too difficult amongst it (now that none of his classes had much spellcasting in them), but there was a mountain of it. He’d made a dent in it this evening in the library, but had left it so close to curfew that he had been forced to race up towards the Ravenclaw tower, in hopes of catching a housemate to help with the riddle.
Except that he’d never made it to the Ravenclaw tower, because in his hurry one foot and then the other had sunk into one of the trick-steps he usually anticipated, and in his haste to retrieve his wand his bag had tumbled a few steps down from his grasp, and his wand clattered all the way down to the nearest landing.
And he was alone on the staircase, the lights in the castle had dimmed, and now even if he could have shot up some sparks for help he would have been stuck waiting for someone to see them. Nelson had tried drumming as loudly as he could against the stairs to attract some attention, but so far it had been in vain, and so here he was, resting his head wearily against the banister as his legs sank a little further into the vanishing step.
There wasn’t much time to wallow about it, though, because now he had the last week’s worth of homework to catch up on. Thankfully, there was nothing too difficult amongst it (now that none of his classes had much spellcasting in them), but there was a mountain of it. He’d made a dent in it this evening in the library, but had left it so close to curfew that he had been forced to race up towards the Ravenclaw tower, in hopes of catching a housemate to help with the riddle.
Except that he’d never made it to the Ravenclaw tower, because in his hurry one foot and then the other had sunk into one of the trick-steps he usually anticipated, and in his haste to retrieve his wand his bag had tumbled a few steps down from his grasp, and his wand clattered all the way down to the nearest landing.
And he was alone on the staircase, the lights in the castle had dimmed, and now even if he could have shot up some sparks for help he would have been stuck waiting for someone to see them. Nelson had tried drumming as loudly as he could against the stairs to attract some attention, but so far it had been in vain, and so here he was, resting his head wearily against the banister as his legs sank a little further into the vanishing step.
