Frost

There was a change in the wind, almost. November was wrought with the chill of winter and this day was no exception. The sun-worshipers that would bear their midriffs at any appearance of the golden orb in the inky hue that was wiped across the sky in a fashion that now, looked so rushed yet perfected all the same. Hung up in the sky were little specks of white, delicate and crafted expertly. Such an art was something the dark-eyed young Bulgarian could only hope to recreate. His piercing gaze was uplifted towards the ink and the sparkling decor that hung there. His breath was warm, the small particles of water condensing in the cool air surrounding him and creating the smoke illusion that would have been there anyway had he deigned to light a cigarette from the packet pressed against his left thigh in the pocket of the black cotton trousers that were part of the overall Hogwarts uniform.

Tucked up in his robes, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip, Elijah watched the life as it sprang about the grounds in the forms of woodland animals, creatures from the depths of the Black Lake and the occasional Centaur that would pass through as little more than a shadow at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A small smile tugged at the sides of his lips but did not manage to lift them. His fingers were grasped around the chill of the metal locket around his neck and he seemed fixated on the frosty scene before him. Alone, left to his thoughts, he was often self-destructive. He seemed though, at this point in time, to be completely at peace. The only thing that could shake that would be the unsubtle presence of another, something that, at the back of his mind, Elijah expected.

One step out of the building and his ears picked up the first sense of drastic change that had occurred in the air; or wind, rather. Thankfully, Julien had a scarf snugged warmly against his neck, anticipating the cold that he would have to face regardless of his will. Still, he had chosen a day out, and was ready to face the consequences of it. After too many days of staying in with the odd books of romance he secretly enjoyed borrowing from Gisele's trunk, Julien was bored of them. As much as one could unravel a love story in so many different words and settings, somehow they all read the same to him, especially when he had them back to back in the span of weeks. Yes, Julien was pretty much done with them for now. For once in a couple of weeks he finally decided for real human interaction over the ones on pages and in his head. Christmas was coming, after all, and he had begun to yearn for some sort of companionship.

Besides the necessary hambug of classes, the time spent cooped up away from the world did not mean that his mind shied away from it. The people who ran through Julien's mind, though, were dreadfully little. Family took up a shamefully minute fraction of attention in his head. The one who had the lion's share was hardly around for him to add more memories to the bank, but it was intentional on Julien's part. He could do without attachments. Flitting about like a butterfly was very much Julien's preferred imagery for his own ways, now. Perhaps, in time, he could be with Sevastian at length, and frequently at that, again.

Hugging himself as he enjoyed the intake of the cold air through his nose, Julien smiled slightly to himself. Seemingly in a positive mood, he began to walk, taking himself further from the castle. The sky was surprisingly clear, which was a good sign to Julien. Still, that did not make the temperature any warmer. Julien hugged himself again as he walked, before dropping his hands to the sides when he thought he caught sight of someone else. Julien blinked at the first sight of a boy he had met on the train. Of course, Elijah had been occasionally spotted by Julien around places in school from then till now, not quite escaping the radar that Julien had put him on ever since the first time the latter met the former, only to be robbed of the privacy that was desired by the strange boy from ... Julien could not even remember who he was, and where did he come from. Elijah, though, he remembered clearly. Who could forget a person who looked like that? Not Julien, especially not Julien.

The dark-haired beauty was just a couple of footsteps away from Julien, but obviously in his own world. Julien watched him in silence, smirking in his own pleasure of watching. And then, after too long and obviously grasping the present opportunity, Julien cleared his throat quietly and waited for a response.

It was difficult to really stomach, the idea that Christmas was on the horizon. The snow was obvious evidence of that and Elijah couldn’t help but turn his nose up at the sight of it as he shivered in his thick coat. But what unsettled him more was the fact that in the distance, between the hills that boasted height over the landscape, he could see a clock, tall, proud and of a scarlet hue that the beloved Hogwarts train had once possessed. It had been erected there, on the platform, in the early days when it became apparent that a set of times were needed to ensure that the people actually made it to their chosen destinations - both alive and on time. It was now as mocking as the watery sunlight teasing its way through the clouds.

Time for Elijah was rapidly running out and his time at Hogwarts was coming to an unsettling close. He, unlike many of the students that wore grins on their faces at the idea of returning home into the waiting arms of their parents, had no idea where his presence was supposed to lay - at Christmas and in the future. He knew what he had. He knew what he needed to keep. He was more aware of exactly what he didn’t have, though, and the grip he had on the shining oval of gold was a testament to that. His tears were for the absence of those he loved, though he was not foolish to shed them here - or shed them at all. He was a child, he realised this. But in all of his eighteen years, he’d never had such a resolve - he’d never ever wanted to make his mark quite like he did now. For simply, he did not care to do so. Finally, he was truly realising that even Peter Pan couldn't stay a child forever. Everyone had to grow up sometime - him included.

The weight of his thoughts was certainly evident on his face; perhaps more so than he would care to imagine. He could almost smirk, almost, at the thoughts dancing on the edge of his mind. The fresh faceless expressions of the girls with wide, wanting eyes dangling their precious assets in the hope that Mira Anderson’s bitch would deign to take them to his bed. It still happened, much to Elijah’s horror and amusement.

He’d unconsciously decided to leave Kendall the ‘ladies’. Ladies, however, they were not. He had always been good at telling a lady from the crowds and he was ashamed to reconcile with himself that he’d slept with ladies about as often as he’d stepped out willingly into the snow. Ladies, the darlings of Hogwarts were not. And certainly, gentlemen the men of Hogwarts were not.

Elijah had never claimed to be anything other than the worst nightmare of any human being foolish enough to get involved with his way of life. He didn’t know what that meant now. The words he’d used to describe himself were not nearly as complimentary as the ones he used to describe the frequently viewed bodies of the girls he would gather beneath him. He truly showed no desire to do anything - even to live at times. Mira would put that down to her absence and smile smugly at him before kissing him on the cheek and expect some sort of plundering of her body in order for them to be ‘alright’ again. He would allow her the satisfaction but it wasn’t that. It wasn’t her absence. It was the case of want - and, more often than not, want not.

At the start of the year, Elijah had thought he’d need buckets of Firewhisky and dozens of cigarettes to enable him to make it through. He’d discovered instead that he needed the buckets and dozens to be consumed by his cousins - and, as ever, they were most agreeable and compliant on that front. Now he just needed a reminder that he was alive, that there was something thumping against his chest, that the metal hanging from chains around his neck hadn’t frozen against the snowy pallor of his chest.

Truly, he was as frozen as the world around him. Not frozen in time as many would wish for themselves - no, he had no use for eternal youth - but frozen mentally, physically and certainly, emotionally. Still, he was getting used to that numb feeling. He was truly considering becoming a recluse - or, rather, more of one than he already was - and gathering seventy-odd cats for him to look after. Yes, he would become the cat-man...or, if stereotypes really did need to prevail, the cat-woman-that-isn’t-a-woman-but-instead-a-man.

A sound that he knew had not come from the world around him brought his thoughts to a shuddering stop. At first he did not turn but the rise of his shoulders was an indication that he was at least vaguely aware of a second presence after his own. He turned after a few moments and blinked away the snow that had gathered on his eyelashes. His eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight of the Ravenclaw he’d met on the train and Elijah dug his spare hand further into the pocket of his coat. He licked his lips anxiously and dropped the locket, allowing it to be concealed by the scarf wound around his neck. He slipped his other hand into the coat pocket opposite to the other and scuffed his boot against the snow, looking down for a moment as if in search for the life beneath before giving up his attempt and bringing his eyes back up to Julien.

“Your hair is longer,” was all he managed to stutter out. Well, not stutter, but it was hardly one of his better lines. Elijah ducked his head a little, feeling his cheeks heat oddly despite the chill of the air and he turned back around, his stance more of an invitation to be joined, unlike before. “Merry Christmas, I suppose,” He sighed out. Merry, indeed...he was sure. Yeah, right.

It was funny how the presence of another took some of the cold away. Or rather, how Julien could be sufficiently distracted from feeling it now while his mind, or eyes, was fixed on Elijah. It was comforting, too, how the sight of this other boy held no further meaning than what one can deem as far as the eye can see. What was there to Julien, held in the person of Elijah, was a pretty face and ... there was really nothing more that Julien knew or remembered about the boy that could make him feel any more than mere appeal of a kid in a candy store. He deserved it, he thought. After all, Christmas was approaching, and so everything should follow in the way of the famous Christmas spirit that people would talk about.

Julien's expectations of Christmas were still rather optimistic, despite the long faces of some of the other teenagers in the Ravenclaw common room, and the gloom and monotony that have characterised the term at Hogwarts so far. In stark opposition to some of the dreary talk in the common room, Julien was rather keen about Christmas. After all, Christmas was always a good time at the Delacours'. Somehow, France, too, felt like a happier place to Julien, bias or not.

"Anything I can do to help make that Merry mean the way it should to you?" Julien grinned. He had liked Elijah's mention of his hair. Of course, any attention to his appearance or even the intellect that people tend to take for granted in the face of the overwhelming effect of his presence, would please the young wizard. Somehow, though, attention to his hair was still going to earn you extra points, since it was a commendation on his obsessive efforts with it. Put into a rather cheery mood upon the rather positive one he already had before stepping out of the castle, Julien continued to grin as he admired Elijah from where he was standing at. It was no mistaking the brooding stance that the other boy was taking. Julien took notice of that while he was watching the other boy silently.

Strangely, it suited him. It did interest Julien a lot more to watch Elijah brood, as if he was attracted to the troubled ones just because he was rather untroubled on his own. Considerably, his problems were really not problems. Everytime someone shared their woes and invited him to, Julien would be slightly embarrassed at the opportunity, his trivialities and their great sufferings. Or perhaps, he thought that he was just not the sort to dramatise his life. Whatever it was, he was glad at the current lack of pain. Merry Christmas to him, indeed.

The presence of another made Elijah warm slightly, though not much. The wind still lashed against the embankment he’d stood himself on and though he observed Julien so very attentively, he found he was missing little twitches of the younger boy’s eyes or cheeks as the wind carrying flecks of snow tousled his hair and blew it into his eyes. Elijah still had the drawing he’d done of Julien. It was tucked in his sketchbook, unseen by the prying eyes of Arnold who was always after his recent works. Elijah had sent the man his sketchbooks but not that one, not the one that held little doodles and the sketch he’d done of Julien. No, that one was for him to work on. Eventually he’d present it to the man but until then, it was Elijah’s to look after. The books he’d sent Arnold had been filled with lacklustre half attempts at finding beauty in those around him. He was finding it more and more difficult each day, though. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t sleep, and he could barely eat.

Anyone that concerned themselves with the current significant other in Elijah’s life would know that currently, there wasn’t one. He and Mira had gone their separate ways and Elijah was finding it increasingly difficult to admit that he missed her. The thing was that, he didn’t. He didn’t miss her. If anything, he felt better off without her. The problem was that there was no one to keep his bed warm anymore. He was so used to having someone there that when there wasn’t anyone, he truly felt the absence of a companion. He yearned for company though he wouldn’t admit it. He sat in the library more often than not now, watching the first years make friends the way he wished he knew how to. He thought of the time in the kitchens with the girl whose name now meant nothing to him. The heat of another’s body was something he wished he could feel again. It would make him feel alive again, he was sure. But then again, he knew where to look for that companionship. He just didn’t.

Julien’s voice broke through Elijah’s train of thought, causing the dark-haired man to turn and face the lighter haired boy. Elijah smiled a little at the Ravenclaw’s words but shrugged his shoulders at him. “I doubt there is anything you can do, Julien. It is nice for you to try anyway.” Elijah smiled slightly. “So what are you doing for Christmas?”