Post by Deleted on Sept 6, 2014 8:05:20 GMT
September 1st, 1969
Arcus' feet felt heavy. He could barely lift them as he stood in line behind a sandy haired girl who was whispering to someone next to her. He wished they would stop. He was feeling incredibly nervous.
'Mockridge, Tarquin.'
'Hufflepuff!'
M... it would be his turn soon. There were only twelve other people waiting to be sorted and they couldn't all come before P. He tapped his feet lightly against the flagged stone. Trying to calm his heartbeat but it did not seem to work, in fact, the tempo caused his heart to beat that little bit faster. He swallowed.
'Pepperidge, Arcus.'
Here it was. This decision would decide where he would be placed, what his life would turn out like. His father knew it of course. The friends and connections you make in your house had a huge effect on the way your life turned out. His father was a prime example. Ravenclaw, intelligent people. Friends with family in the ministry. High ranking ministry job on leaving Hogwarts. It was simple. Obvious.
It was hard for Arcus' legs not to quake as he approached the three legged stool to place the hat on his head, while others had taken it in their stride Arcus could do nothing but allow his legs to tremble as he sat down and placed the patched hat upon his head.
'Let me see.' the hat said in his head 'A fantastic mind, ripe for learning, arrogance... well, some people need to be... let me think... ah yes of course, RAVENCLAW!'
The hat may have just whispered the word but it didn't matter to Arcus. He had gotten his wish. Ravenclaw. Logic, reason, home.
15th October 1973
'Arcus!' a voice called out but he was oblivious to almost all sounds. His mind was a wash of transfiguration incantations, potions recepies and historical dates from history. He didn't have time to even see where he was going, and consequently walked straight into a suit of Armour that clattered about the floor, swearing quite violently at Arcus who felt a helping hand lift him up.
'Are you alright.'
Sarah Kent. It had to be Sarah Kent.
'I'm fine, thanks. Just had my mind on something.' More like a dozen things
Sarah smiled. 'You off to History of Magic, did you...oh of course you did the homework, I was struggling a bit on question three but I think I got it right. I couldn't understand the Goblins rights enactment of 1287 I think...'
Why does she have to talk. Why won't she just let me kiss her. Dreams were far more different than reality. People like him, didn't end up with girls like Sarah. That was the way of the world. That was his curse.
'Arcus?'
'Huh?'
'I asked if you knew when the Battle of Trondelore took place?'
'1823.' Arcus replied instantly before he could stop himself. Sarah smiled again.
'Thanks I can never remember. You've just got a brain ten times better than mine. I'll see you later yeah?'
Another failed shot.
25th June 1981
The sand was really whipping them about now and the protection Arcus had placed upon himself was being to wane. Ashza still led on ahead. His indigo robes whipping around in the storm.
'There is a cave up ahead.' Arcus heard Ashza say, 'We can stay there until the storm dies down.'
They walked for another ten minutes. Arcus had to rely on looking for the flapping robes of the Nigern guide, for any footsteps were blown away almost as soon as they were placed and barely any sounds could be heard apart from the whipping of the wind.
Eventually, Arcus found Ashza stood next to an out cropping of rock where a cave was clearly visible. He was busy casting some protective spells, which Arcus immediately began to help with. Once they were done. Ashza led Arcus deep into the cave lighting his wand as he went.
'Hundreds of years ago, this cave was used by the Kantari, they would come here on their way to Salwyn to talk to god. Before... well.'
'They still did it though?'
'They thought God told them to.'
18th April 1996
'So around this period we have mass migration of various magical creatures. Goblins, hags, vampires, all moving westwards from the Vologodskya region into warmer temperate climes of western Europe. Why? Perkins?'
'Because... I don't know sir.'
'Because of the violent anti anything that wasn't pureblooded wizards.' Arcus finished. 'You need to read up on your notes Perkins.'
Arcus shifted his weight across several feet, eying his students with varied interest. 'This Pro Pure Blood ideology appeared in several other places around the time. The USA, Japan and... where else Samson?'
Samson looked at Arcus with blank eyes.
'Er, Hogsmeade sir?'
There was a ripple of laughter throughout the classroom.
'Hogsmeade? Right. Was there a pure blood fanatic running the Three Broomsticks? Or maybe perhaps Honeydukes? Perhaps he wouldn't sell any Chocolate Frogs to Muggleborns? Five points from Gryffindor Samson. For making me laugh.
----
Arcus leaned back from the pensive, his eyes a misty grey as the memories of the years washed through him. All that time, the worry, the nervousness, the excitement, it had all led him here. The Headmasters office. Hogwarts. Home.
Arcus' feet felt heavy. He could barely lift them as he stood in line behind a sandy haired girl who was whispering to someone next to her. He wished they would stop. He was feeling incredibly nervous.
'Mockridge, Tarquin.'
'Hufflepuff!'
M... it would be his turn soon. There were only twelve other people waiting to be sorted and they couldn't all come before P. He tapped his feet lightly against the flagged stone. Trying to calm his heartbeat but it did not seem to work, in fact, the tempo caused his heart to beat that little bit faster. He swallowed.
'Pepperidge, Arcus.'
Here it was. This decision would decide where he would be placed, what his life would turn out like. His father knew it of course. The friends and connections you make in your house had a huge effect on the way your life turned out. His father was a prime example. Ravenclaw, intelligent people. Friends with family in the ministry. High ranking ministry job on leaving Hogwarts. It was simple. Obvious.
It was hard for Arcus' legs not to quake as he approached the three legged stool to place the hat on his head, while others had taken it in their stride Arcus could do nothing but allow his legs to tremble as he sat down and placed the patched hat upon his head.
'Let me see.' the hat said in his head 'A fantastic mind, ripe for learning, arrogance... well, some people need to be... let me think... ah yes of course, RAVENCLAW!'
The hat may have just whispered the word but it didn't matter to Arcus. He had gotten his wish. Ravenclaw. Logic, reason, home.
15th October 1973
'Arcus!' a voice called out but he was oblivious to almost all sounds. His mind was a wash of transfiguration incantations, potions recepies and historical dates from history. He didn't have time to even see where he was going, and consequently walked straight into a suit of Armour that clattered about the floor, swearing quite violently at Arcus who felt a helping hand lift him up.
'Are you alright.'
Sarah Kent. It had to be Sarah Kent.
'I'm fine, thanks. Just had my mind on something.' More like a dozen things
Sarah smiled. 'You off to History of Magic, did you...oh of course you did the homework, I was struggling a bit on question three but I think I got it right. I couldn't understand the Goblins rights enactment of 1287 I think...'
Why does she have to talk. Why won't she just let me kiss her. Dreams were far more different than reality. People like him, didn't end up with girls like Sarah. That was the way of the world. That was his curse.
'Arcus?'
'Huh?'
'I asked if you knew when the Battle of Trondelore took place?'
'1823.' Arcus replied instantly before he could stop himself. Sarah smiled again.
'Thanks I can never remember. You've just got a brain ten times better than mine. I'll see you later yeah?'
Another failed shot.
25th June 1981
The sand was really whipping them about now and the protection Arcus had placed upon himself was being to wane. Ashza still led on ahead. His indigo robes whipping around in the storm.
'There is a cave up ahead.' Arcus heard Ashza say, 'We can stay there until the storm dies down.'
They walked for another ten minutes. Arcus had to rely on looking for the flapping robes of the Nigern guide, for any footsteps were blown away almost as soon as they were placed and barely any sounds could be heard apart from the whipping of the wind.
Eventually, Arcus found Ashza stood next to an out cropping of rock where a cave was clearly visible. He was busy casting some protective spells, which Arcus immediately began to help with. Once they were done. Ashza led Arcus deep into the cave lighting his wand as he went.
'Hundreds of years ago, this cave was used by the Kantari, they would come here on their way to Salwyn to talk to god. Before... well.'
'They still did it though?'
'They thought God told them to.'
18th April 1996
'So around this period we have mass migration of various magical creatures. Goblins, hags, vampires, all moving westwards from the Vologodskya region into warmer temperate climes of western Europe. Why? Perkins?'
'Because... I don't know sir.'
'Because of the violent anti anything that wasn't pureblooded wizards.' Arcus finished. 'You need to read up on your notes Perkins.'
Arcus shifted his weight across several feet, eying his students with varied interest. 'This Pro Pure Blood ideology appeared in several other places around the time. The USA, Japan and... where else Samson?'
Samson looked at Arcus with blank eyes.
'Er, Hogsmeade sir?'
There was a ripple of laughter throughout the classroom.
'Hogsmeade? Right. Was there a pure blood fanatic running the Three Broomsticks? Or maybe perhaps Honeydukes? Perhaps he wouldn't sell any Chocolate Frogs to Muggleborns? Five points from Gryffindor Samson. For making me laugh.
----
Arcus leaned back from the pensive, his eyes a misty grey as the memories of the years washed through him. All that time, the worry, the nervousness, the excitement, it had all led him here. The Headmasters office. Hogwarts. Home.
