Among the Silver and Gold

It was strange to walk the halls of Hogwarts once more; strange indeed. With each passing day winding them ever closer to the Christmas break that was the goal of many students to survive until, Sevastian found himself wondering how long he was going to be able to stay. With Grindlewald’s presence a near-constant worry for the Krum family, Sevastian wondered when they’d receive the letters telling them that they were to be fetched within the next few days. Sevastian wondered whether he’d go back to school after Christmas. He wondered if anyone would. The fear the Krum family held above most other things was a fear of that man who had made sure to hurt their family right at the head. Sevastian’s great-grandparents had escaped the confines of Bulgaria to ensure the safety of their descendants. He couldn’t help but wonder what the cost would be if they were to lose the many heirs that attended Hogwarts, himself included.

It was Sevastian’s sombre and wistful mood that took him from the library down to the Trophy Room on that Saturday morning. With his books clutched to his chest, Sevastian wandered through the milling crowds of students either holding hands or twisting around each other in groups as they rushed out into the grounds. That morning Sevastian had decided to wear his hair down around his waist. He kept it in its usual bleach blonde but he added a few strands of sky blue to it before plaiting his hair back off of his face. Sevastian had also been playing with his complexion between essays, darkening his skin or adding moles to his cheeks and even going as far to change his whole appearance by growing a beak or an extra eye. Currently though, Sevastian’s appearance was consistent with the way he usually looked and the Metamorphagus admittedly preferred it that way, though he couldn’t deny he loved playing with his hair.

Pushing the door to the Trophy Room open, Sevastian smiled at the sight that greeted him. He jumped down the steps and swept across the floor towards the table that was pushed up against the far wall, the only surface that wasn’t holding shields or trophies. Placing his books down, Sevastian pulled his mustard coloured jumper over his head and dropped it down on the table. Sevastian poked his tongue out of his mouth and brought a strand of blue hair that escaped his plait between his lips. He sucked on it absent-mindedly and began to walk around the trophy room, reading the names off of the plaques and the trophies. There, Sevastian let his thoughts run away with him and it was only at the sound of the door being wrenched open that Sevastian was pulled back to planet Earth; and so with a gasp he dove behind one of the display cases, hoping against hope it wasn’t a teacher that was about to find him in there.

It was a Saturday; one of the best days of the week. The day felt relaxing as there were no lessons and students could obey less of a dress code, yet it wasn't full of the last minute stresses on Sunday of half completed essays and the dread of starting lessons once more the following day. As he had some time to kill, his homework lying abandoned by his bed after he'd glanced at it earlier this morning and dismissed the thought of doing it almost immediately, Beck was currently wandering about the castle. True, he knew his way around better than he had at the start of the year. However, some areas were yet to be xplored. In fact, he doubted years of dawdling through the castle and looking into certain areas would reveal to him all the mysteries that this castle held.

Beck meandered along the corridor, passing the occasional groups of students huddled and talking amongst one another. He had chosen to dress casually today, wearing his favourite pair of dark trousers that were held up by a thin chain belt. His righ hand played with one of the loops, a habit he had never grown out of. His left hand reached up to adjust the Slytherin tie around his neck so that it lay neatly against the white shirt he wore. It was chilly, what with the approaching winter, though it wasn't bad enough that he was forced to huddle in a jacket by a fireplace just yet.

The fifth year yawned, lifting his hand to his mouth to stiffle it, before continuing down the corridor. He knew not where he was heading, lost in his own thoughts of his old school. He wondered what the students of Durmstrang were doing at the moment. His close friends, his enemies, they had all meant something to him and it was like losing a community, or a family, to have to be transferred to Hogwarts in his fifth year of school. He should have probably tried harder in his worst subject, Charms, or at least shown some enthusiasm to the school in the Beck household. Hindsight, he thought sarcastically, was a wonderful thing. Still, he couldn't fully complain. He'd never been one for freezing conditions and Hogwarts was much warmer than Durmstrang. Plus, most of the people in his house seemed like decent people. He hadn't yet spoken to anybody outside of Slytherin, however.

Just as he was about to turn back to head down to the common room, the teen caught a glance of a half open door in the corner of his eye. He turned fully to watch as it slowly came to a shut and then slouched forward, a hint of curiousity upon his scowling features. He reached up to fiddle with the bar piercing his right eyebrow, before adjusting his dark brown hair back to the position he preferred it to sit in, whilst contemplating opening the door. Shrugging, he did so anyway. He pushed it gently with his shoudler and was greeted by the sight of many glistening trophies, awards and plaques of various size and shape. His interest caught, Beck stepped inside and stepped down the two stone stairs before him in one step. The trophy room, obviously. He looked about, wondering whether there was anything interesting in there, and was about to step forward when he caught sight of a bright jumper of some sort of shade of yellow placed on an empty table nearby. His brows drew together. Was somebody in there with him?