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Hexley Hall did have non-magic classes, but they were relatively sparse and quite poor in quality. Literature, in particular, was not the school’s strong point. Still, the families of the students (who were often nobles or a similar rank) would disapprove if their children grew up illiterate, so Language and Literature were taught.
Cedric hated these lessons. Not because he had anything against literature as a concept, in fact he enjoyed reading; but because these lessons weren’t taken seriously by the students or the teachers. As a result, the enforcement of already lax school rules was rare, and teasing ran rampant.
Today’s lesson was simple and fun: Create a character for an adventure story.
Surprisingly, the other children had left Cedric alone so far - instead of bothering him, they were giggling about something in the corner. Greylock was in the centre of the huddle. Apparently, the stuff he was writing was hysterical, but Cedric didn’t care.
Actually, he was becoming quite invested in his character, and his sheet of paper was filling up to match. His handwriting wasn’t the best , but he was pretty sure he could read it back. Maybe.
“Alright,” the teacher droned. She was a tired old woman called Miss Enna - she had an ego the size of the sun, and didn’t like investing energy in activities other than bragging. Cedric didn’t like her very much. “Hopefully you’ve all finished creating your characters. Now, you need to describe them to the class,” she left a gap of silence, “we’ll go in alphabetical order. Cedric first,” she glared at him. He silently cursed her.
All eyes were on him - and for a second Cedric was back at the incident. But no. He was proud of his character, and he wanted to share it, and he wasn’t going to let the past hold him back. He stood up, held his paper in front of him with both hands, and cleared his throat.
“My character is called Cicero, he lives in the country of Cyrodiil, and when he was sixteen, he joined an evil organisation called ‘ the Dark Brotherhood.’ But because the Dark Brotherhood is evil, the guards found them out and destroyed Cicero’s sanctuary. Then he had to move to another one and he was named keeper because the listener died - oh, and they all serve the Night Mother and…”
They were snickering. Crap, this had sounded better in his head. “And…”
“I meant describe what they look like, sweetie ,” Miss Enna said. The world ‘sweetie’ was laced with something acidic. “We don’t need the whole story.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah Cedric, you’re wasting our time!” someone sneered. He couldn’t tell who, but it could have been any of them.
“Next up,” Miss Enna pushed her glasses up her nose, “Eloise…”
A red haired girl stood up and folded her arms, “my character’s name is Rose. She has pink hair, green eyes, wears a red apron, oh! And she has a metal arm.” She sat down.
“Very good. Now, Greylock…”
“Here we go,” Greylock said theatrically, stepping forwards. Everyone save Cedric was bright red trying to contain their hysteria. He couldn’t help but be a little curious about what was so funny, even though his heart still stung from earlier.
“My character is evil, ” Greylock made a ‘scary’ gesture with his arms, “he has a big, grotesque nose, and his hair is black like ink, but with ugly grey parts that make him look old and hideous…”
The laughter burst out and crescendoed. Cedric felt himself turn some colour that young boys most certainly aren’t meant to be.
“But even though he’s evil, no one is scared of him - because he’s so bad at magic he can’t actually do something bad, even though he wants to. His name is… well, you already know his name,” Greylock did a neat little bow, and the class roared. Even Miss Enna clapped.
“Well done, Greylock,” she laughed, “that was very clever!”
Cedric’s vision blurred and burned. Inwardly, he promised himself that he wouldn't so much as open his mouth again, let alone speak words.
‘I won’t cry, I won’t cry, I won’t cry, I won’t cry, I-”
But the affirmations were useless. Hot, salty tears were already cascading down his face. To the Literature class, this was an encore - their howling deepend and grew claws, the noise circling Cedric like a pack of wolves and just…
…he just wished he could disappear.