we're not soldiers yet, but we've got soul

Finally! Free period!

Byron stole a look at Roxi, nodded excitedly, and sprinted out of the DADA class, not really looking if his best friend had followed suit. A couple of weeks ago, Roxi had told him about the existence of the Room of Requirement. They had even ventured to look for it, but the result was fruitless. Byron had been upset. He had talked about forming a band, and Roxi had jumped along on that idea.

Father had given him a guitar, which he charmed to teach his boy how to play it, when Byron was merely ten. Apparently, it had belonged to Ludo Bagman himself, but he had lost his interest in the guitar, and thought it fitting to present to his son as a gift. Byron had taken to the charmed musical instrument. If he was not flying on his broom, he was strumming his guitar. The boy could still remember how when he received it, he had brought it along to the Weasley house to share his new toy with one of his best friends. Well, some things never change.

Byron was sulking along with Roxi in the common room two evenings ago, but he felt like he did not want to give up. It was a real need. He needed a room of instruments, as Roxi had put it, but he only had a guitar with him. Byron had many ambitions. Too many, in fact. He would often rant about them to his father, or even to Roxi herself. He wanted to be a professional Quidditch player, a zookeeper, a singer, an auror, a Professor ... the list never really did stop. Despite that, music and Quidditch remained his top priority. Byron had dragged Roxi along for a final search, and then they found it. He was fascinated at the find, and once again he thought how he loved magic, pitying those who could never truly know it.

After what seemed to be a pretty long run, although not exhausting for a frequent runner, Byron stopped and stared at the wall that should display the door to the room that he and Roxi had found two nights ago. The wall was located at a pretty deserted space at Hogwarts. It was not as if no one came, it was just that the place rarely saw much people. The passageway was not on a vital route to anywhere important.

The bell rang and Roxi was chasing after her best friend, no reservations, knocking into several boys in the back of the class on her way out- not that they seemed to mind too much. She stuck her tongue out as she concentrated on catching up to Byron, and luckily, she had always been built to have pretty long legs. She could hear Candy Podmore saying to her from behind, "No, no, that's great. Just leave me here alone with the drones of our school, go ahead-"

"Okay, thanks!" Roxi called back, grinning. She looked forward again and lowered her head, chasing after Byron, her long red hair streaming behind her. Luckily, today she was dressed for such shenanigans, and not in the droll uniform with that horrendous pleated skirt. She caught up to Byron just as he reached the corridor.

"My dad told me what to do from here!" Roxi announced brightly, throwing her reddish hair over her shoulder, humming happily. She suddenly took on a serious countenance, thoigh it looked comical- eyes screwed up in concentration, forehead scrunched up, tongue stuck out between her teeth, arms folded behind her, her legs straighteningout completely as he marched to and fro in front of the wall.

We need a wondrous room full of instruments and musical.. stuff. YES! We need a wondrous room full on instruments and musical stuff. A room full of instruments and musical stuff.

She looked up and saw a large door in front of her. She gasped, turning to stare at her friend. she turned back and seized the door knob yanking it open. She caught sight of a trombone and she was in love with this room. She placed her hands on Byron's pack and marched him into the room. "GO GO GO GO GO!" she bellowed from behind.

She pulled the door behind her, failing to notice she had left it open ajar. She released Byron and ran forward, grabbing the trombone. She placed her mouth against the mouthpiece and blew into it. Nothing. She tried harder and harder until her face was red and her cheeks puffed out. She began to blow rasperries into it and a sound came out.

She jerked it away. "I DID IT!" she squealed. She placed her mouth against the mouthpiece and continued, creating horrendous booming noises with the instrument.

Full of energy, they were. Many of the older kids had stared as these two shorter ones scooted around them, bumping at some. But Byron did not care, and he knew Roxanne did not either. He always let whatever he felt decide how he would act anyway. He was merely wide-eyed, waiting for his best friend, who was currently the smarter one between the two, to conjure the Room of Requirement. A big and silly grin plastered on his face. Byron watched as the wall in front of him slowly revealed a door, but before he could continued to stand there in awe, he felt a force pulling him along at his back, and the boy allowed himself to be pulled as his own legs added fuel to the motion.

Once in the room, Byron rushed for the drums. He had had a fair bit of time on his guitar, but never had he played on drums before, and muggle television had shown him how cool it would look to bang at a set of drums and to twirl the drumsticks with both hands. He had spent time outside a muggle electronics shop studying the performance of a drummer, and it was, to him, truly wicked. Byron snatched the pair of drumsticks lying on a stool behind the set of drums. But before he could set out to bang away at it, he heard an awful noise.

Turning to locate the noise, he saw that Roxi had a trombone in hand, and her face had turned red, almost as red as her hair. The boy decided that it was the most hilarious sight he had ever seen in his life, and without much hesitation, fell back over his stool in bouts of laughter. While on the floor and still holding the drumsticks, Byron kicked a little as he laughed, lifting his head up to get yet another glimpse at his friend's face, before falling back in yet another bout of laughter.

"Awww Rox, you look like a tomato!" He yelled through his laughters, not worried that he was creating a bit of a ruckus.

It was a rather difficult task to try and watch Professor Meriwether teach his class - at least in Sevastian’s opinion it was. Here was a man who would give extra lessons in the evening, refuse to be called anything other than Steve and eat Jaffa Cakes while doing so. Sevastian was one of the few students who would be able to sit on the desk and watch as the Professor went into some of the more complex areas of the subject. To see a teacher go from munching on Jaffa Cakes and wandering around in socks that had unicorns on them to, in short, a hard ass was a bizarre thing. In fact, if Sevastian didn’t know to keep his mouth shut - if only so he could avoid strange looks from his peers - then he would have been giggling uncontrollably throughout the lesson. Sevastian kept himself composed throughout the lesson but he couldn’t keep a smirk off of his face when the Professor winked at him, as if they were sharing a joke only a select few others were privy to; and they were. It gave Sevastian a little confidence boost. It was only a little but it was certainly enough.

When the class was finally dismissed, Sevastian took a little bit of time to finish off his notes before beginning to pack away. He was careful and precise, unlike two Gryffindors who escaped from the classroom so fast one would have thought their broomsticks were on fire. Sevastian chuckled a little and thumped his books into his bag as the students began to file out. Sevastian brought his gaze up, searching the small crowd for the dark ringlets that would pinpoint the location of Angela Rigby. Sevastian jumped up onto his tip-toes and opened his mouth to call out to her but she disappeared amongst the many robed students that obliged her unconscious need to be obscured from view. Sevastian exhaled, his good mood dissipating, and he focused on putting his books away, shoving them into his bag with a little more force than necessary this time.

“I think McVitie’s are going to put something weird in the Jaffas soon.”

The musings of a preoccupied DADA teacher forced Sevastian to bring his gaze up once more and his eyes fell on the Professor who was wriggling his toes in bright pink toe socks and had shed his outer robs so he was just clad in his shirt and a pair of black work trousers. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and in one hand he held a Jaffa Cake - in the other was a roll of parchment with a rather familiar scrawl littering one side. Brightly coloured ink seemed to stain the page and Sevastian could only think of one person who would strive to get the Professor’s attention that way of all ways: Ms. Roxi Weasley.

“I tell you what I fancy -- a packet of Hobnobs! Right, bugger off you. I’ll see you tomorrow night, yeah? We will discover whether or not there is really a Boggart in that sodding wardrobe. Kerry and Liam will also be coming so we must wear shoes over our socks for fear of causing offense! Now! Sod off and give this to Flame-Head.”

Sevastian smirked and nodded before sweeping his hair off of his shoulders and tying it up in a quick bun. He then pulled his bag onto his shoulder, took the parchment from the Professor’s hand and stole the Jaffa Cake before ducking out of the room. The Professor shouted after him and Sevastian thundered down the stairs, laughing with wild abandon. He jumped the last three or so steps and landed in front of a fifth year who promptly screamed as if he’d landed on a pressure pad that had made her do so. Sevastian pouted a little before grinning and barging past, continuing to run and run until he could run no further.

It was when he came to a stop, his chest heaving and his heart pounding in his ears, that he heard the sound of a brass instrument. Sevastian turned, a slight smile appearing on his lips, and it was then that he found a beautiful arching door that there was no way he wouldn’t have noticed before. Cautiously, Sevastian moved closer to it and, when curiosity became too much, he poked his head inside. He found Roxi immediately and a wide grin jumped onto his face.

“ROXI!” Sev bellowed, jumping over the threshold. He threw his bag onto the floor and took a bite out of the Jaffa Cake before holding up the essay and mumbling, “Sir gave me your essay,” though, it sort of sounded something along the lines of sirgavemeyouressay and so it was only just comprehendible.

Byron called out to her, telling her she looked like a tomato, but she continued on, extending the tombone's slide as far as her arm would allow, before sliding it all the way in, and then sliding it up and down, running through a bunch of notes as she did. The trombone was pretty much out of tune and she could not quite get the notes out, so it sounded like a dying elephant.. or a hippo in heat or something.

She heard the door open, and with a might out of tune blast, she pulled the trombone away, tearing her lips from the moutpiece. She turned and spotted Sevastian. She let out a gasp and she set down the trombone before flinging herself at Sevastian, as though she had not seen him in years, wrapping her arms around him in a hug and leaning back to lift him off his feet- she was getting tall for her age and Sev has always been rather slight.

"I've missed you friend!" she announced dramtically before releasing him. he said something about an essay and she spotted the scroll in Sevastian's hand. Her hand fluttered to her chest and she took a step back, saying, "For me?" She grinned and took the essay from his hands. She took the scroll from him and read the grade. E. Not bad, really. She suspected the professor gave her better grades, because she wrote in bright colors and opened every essay with How are you? and he appreciated the gesture. She stucked it into her bag and said, "We're making music, Sev! I don't know if you know him, but this is Byron! Byron this is Sev!"

Byron was still lying on the floor, not very willing to get up from his place of laughter. Then an unfamiliar voice cut through the otherwise still air of the Room of Requirement, and the boy heard it as soon as he paused for breath in between laughing. He sat up immediately, wondering who the intruder might be. He had thought that he was alone with his best friend, and now he stared in a very puzzled manner at another boy, wondering how he had figured out the way to come in. After all the rolling around on the floor, Byron's hair was as messy as a nest, and his clothes were so crumpled that his mother would have yelled at him if he was home, and he saw him in this manner. Always looking like an animal, she would say before reaching out to forcefully smooth down his hair and his clothes. Byron thought differently. He liked that his hair looked like a lion's everytime it got messy. He liked it even more when he was sorted to Gryffindor. It made it possible for him to pretend that he was an heir of some sort. In his dreams, of course.

Byron realized that this unfamiliar boy had yelled Roxi's name, followed by a string of unrecognizable words. Byron squinted at the other boy and yelled back, "WOT?!" It was not meant to be rude. He was just a little confused, and probably lost his manners along the way. Swiftly, though, Byron turned to look at Roxi. He tapped his feet against the floor while sitting in a cross-legged position, waiting for his friend to respond. The boy did not have to wait long, though. As soon as Roxi set her trombone now, of which it feels like the walls of the room approved of the sudden peace, she ran to embrace the other boy. Byron was still very confused, although he was beginning to realize he had seen this boy around. That's it! From DADA class! Well, at least his memory did not fail him at that. Still, Byron was not surprised that Roxi knew this boy. She had always known more people than him, and more often than not, he made friends because they knew Roxi first. Byron did not mind it though. He was very open about meeting people and letting Roxi be the centre of attention. He liked seeing her happy and laughing all the time. He always wished she was his sister, not that he did not love his own sister too, but because this girl was more fun, even he had to admit that.

Soon enough, like always, Roxi was making introductions for the two boys. Byron jumped up, being very active and hyper at his age, and ran a little to meet Sevastian. "Hi! Byron Bagman. Me father's Ludo Bagman." He added that last part out of pride for his father, and out of habit, though he was not aware or did not even question if the new boy was interested in that part of him at all. "Anybody who's Rox's friend is Byron's friend!" he continued to exclaim in a very child-like manner. "And woahhh, your hair's extremely long, ain't it? Mummy's never let me have hair as long as I want them to be. I feel as if she would like to have it all shaved off, if dad never step in all the time to defend my mane" And Byron spat that last word out proudly, as if he thought his hair to be really awesome. Then, suddenly, Byron turned around excitedly, arms waving about, as if he was trying to show the room to Sevastian. "Look at all of these. Wicked, ain't it?" He gestured to the musical instruments littered all over the room.

"You shoulda seen Rox when she looked like a tomato. She really did!" He was rattling on a bit too much. "Do you like to play any musical instrument ... Sevvy? Can I call you Sevvy?"

So this, Sevastian thought with a small smile as he raked his eyes across the expansive room, is the Room of Requirement. It was truly beautiful. He’d read in Hogwarts: A History that it would transform into a room and supply nearly everything and anything the user desired. So Sevastian had read about it, big deal. It was nothing like living the reality. As he took in the gorgeous architecture of the room that possessed an instrument from every age, Sevastian felt his heart speed up a little in anticipation. His fingers twitched by his sides, desperate to handle some of the beautiful instruments, and he licked his lips, wondering just which one to choose first. There were so many; piled high on top of every free surface. He felt spoiled for choice though he had a feeling that perhaps his presence wasn’t wanted.

This was not something that Sevastian had come up with. The exclamation from the other boy that was in the room made the Hufflepuff freeze and so when Roxi grasped him in a hug, he nearly fell over from the shock of it. The blonde managed to keep his balance but that didn’t stop the little squeal of surprise from snaking past his lips and filling the room like a bubble of hot air, though in this case it was sound. Roxi’s dramatic declaration prompted a laugh from Sevastian, albeit as strained one, and once she released him he eagerly inhaled mouthfuls of air. He managed a small giggle as she took the parchment from his hands. He didn’t know why the Professor liked Roxi as much as he did. She was a basket case. But then again, so was the Professor and so, in a way, was Sevastian. He wouldn’t have changed her for any will in the world. In fact, he knew better than to try - she was incredibly overbearing. He couldn’t help but love her though. She was lovely - even if she should have been in a straight jacket by now.

“Err, yeah.” Sevastian agreed with a degree of hesitance. “Professor Meriwether said ‘give this to Flame Head’ and he only calls one person Flame Head.” Sevastian smirked at Roxi and promptly changed the colour of his hair. The bright blonde locks darkened to the colour of November flames that licked the wood that had amounted into a bonfire in honour of the Fifth. He giggled and covered his mouth with his hand, knowing full well that he was mocking Roxi.

He smiled and turned when she introduced him to the boy that had been lying on the floor. Sevastian’s hair lightened back to the bright blonde and he felt his cheeks redden a little with embarrassment as the boy jumped up and nigh on ran to him. Sevastian took a wary step backwards, slightly apprehensive about how close the boy was to him. He couldn’t help but laugh as the boy - Byron - began to jibber-jabber about seemingly nothing at all. Then, that bought of laughter turned into all out giggles and Sevastian bent over, clutching his stomach as belly laughs emerged.

It took a while for Sevastian to sober and when he did, he stuck his hand out to Byron, a wide smile on his face.

“I’m Sevastian!” He exclaimed in return. “Sevastian Krum! My father is Pavlo Krum.” Though Sevastian wasn’t nearly as proud of his father as Byron obviously was, he was still proud of the family name. He was still proud of what the Krums stood for - though what he did not know. Sevastian grabbed a few strands of hair and looked at it curiously before responding innocently. “No.” He smiled again before adding. “At least, I don’t think so. I had it cut before the start of the year but it grew out again...” He frowned a tiny bit before shrugging and looking at Byron. “Oh! Yes! I do! And, um, yes, you can call me Sevvy.” Sevastian’s cheeks darkened with colour again and he looked around. “I play stringed instruments mainly. Uhm. Guitar actually, though I like the Ukulele. My tutor has been trying to teach me how to play the piano. I’m alright I suppose.” Sevastian shrugged non-comittedly before looking at Roxi. “Can I join in?” He asked brightly.