Chapter Text
Chapter 1 - Delicate Comforts of Life
Professor Binns paced the classroom, more of a mist than a man. In a voice that droned on in a way that matched his state of unbeing, he explained to the class that today he would be covering the Goblin Rebellion of 1752. Its triumph, its tragedy, and the effect it had on the wizard milling industry.
The kind sunlight dazzled close by, with its warm and golden glow hanging over the room. And in the farthest edge, it begun to taper off, leaving the rest of the students to bask in the dimmer dance of that vibrancy. Softer, yet peaceful still.
Your eyelids fight a half-hearted war with this peace where you sit with your compatriot Ominis Gaunt at your side. You're nervous to continue looking alive, with the knowledge that your desk mate had lost that same fight a long time ago. However, you soon find that Professor Binns seems far too interested in his lecture to care that most of his students have been lulled and bored by his tone. Right on through Ominis he wanders, with no understanding that he had run into anyone; certainly paying no account to the journey to slumberland his pupil had gone on in that time before.
In your periphery you see that movement— and then you note how dazed and confused Ominis had been when he awoke. He was only startled in a small way it seemed. Whatever it felt like to have a ghost pass through you, it must not have been terribly unpleasant. A faint shudder from wind rocking window blinds, you think. Without the knocking and rapping noise that typically followed. Just a sensation, and one you would be unable to confirm as Professor Binns course corrected. He didn't run into you the same way, missing even the edge of your back. A mild chill of air might've hit your robes as he passed, but if so — it was so inadequate it couldn't even be felt. That small an amount could only become enmeshed and fizzle out through the natural warmth of the material.
You think Ominis lucky to have captured whatever sleep he had. A forbidden thought, which coaxed your eyelids again. Sleeping in class was a blessing rarely captured. No discredit to your professor. It was all tranquil, every part of it. The warmth, this shared space, a teacher prattling on about senses and nonsenses that didn't usually relate to your own. Your kind were typically so much more dangerous and volatile. Unpredictable and unrelaxing.
Today was different to start with, of course. Too close for comfort if you paid too much attention. Except, you were careful to forget how entrenched you were in the new goblin rebellion that threatened the delicate comfort of life, replacing these and similar words with vague sounds of what might have been words if you could understand their meaning. There could be no concern when you were determined in class for there to be none of them.
You were safe— always, within these walls.
Your lips quiver, mouth agape in a yawn. Since the morning you've been lightheaded. No stranger to squeezing every last drop out of your days and nights. You think now, that perhaps sometimes you overdo it. Professor Weasley reminds you from time to time to pace out your learning too. With much to do though, it's painstaking. Each task is more important than the one before it. Vacations are hard to excuse and you fight off even the thought of them. You feel a clawing need, not just to play catch-up and learn five years of school material in a matter of months, but to be there for your friends, to protect those you can from the dark forces that are kept only just at bay. Sometimes you believe, with the unique power you possess, you may be the only one who could.
Ominis beside you, understood that more than most. In fact, all your friends did. You seemed to align yourself closest to those with a penchant for getting into the kind of trouble that means well. Yet somehow, in his case, it was a fair bit different. You have always felt as if your friendship with him was as sure to hold up to fiendfyre as an already rotting branch. You wanted to get on with him. You agreed with him. It was just not there like you wished it would be.
You didn't spend time together at Hogsmeade having a butterbeer or perusing Honeydukes or Zonko's, and you never had a sit down to engage in a hobby with him like you could with Amit or Imelda. He didn't introduce you to his other friends, talk over your assignments with you, or tease you for believing you could spot mermaids in the window. In fact, you were lucky if you could ever catch sight of him in the common room living quarters. And whenever you were finally in the dormitories, he was already in bed. You so often got the sense that he was avoiding you and that this was a painfully unavoidable divine punishment. For what? You didn't know. Maybe all it came down to was order of operations, that he hadn't been the first student you spoke to on your first day.
Did he even like you? Trust you? He must have to some degree. He relented for you. A courtesy he wouldn't even grant Sebastian at one point or another.
You blink in rapid multitudes, your eyes falling shut at the last. The familiar void behind your lids ensnares your senses then, as all you could see or wish to immerse yourself in from this point on. Yes, you go on to finish the thought — to put it to rest. As sure as the days counted forward, something had to have changed. Something that would last perhaps, if you were careful to honor him.
Gravity has drawn you down to your desk, arms a protective barrier. Thinking nothing more, was your best intention for yourself, and you had already thought much too long.