Waiting out the storm (Tag: Mystery)

6th Year Posts : 66 Stats : 18 Join date : 2013-03-18

It was stormy afternoon in Hogwarts...actually it's been raining non stop for the past two weeks. Students spent most of their time cooped up in the school. There was a heavy tension in the air as Lore was making her way back from one of her classes. Of course like anyone else, she wanted to get out of the rain as soon as possible. She contemplated as she walked through one of the hallways near the courtyard about possibly heading back to the sanctuary of the library or her dormitory. But of course whatever she was planning wouldn't go according to plan.

The typical stereotype of a Slytherin, that's how Lore would describe them. Regardless, it seemed a group of them were on the prowl today. They must have been bored and felt like messing with anyone who happened to pass their way. Unfortunate for Lore she was one of those unlucky people.

One of the Slytherin students yanked her book bag from her and tossed it into the nearest mud puddle, while simultaneously bombarding her with comments like "Bookworm", and several other vulgar comments their simple minds could conjure.

Lore merely frowned at them, unable to say anything hoping they'll just go away if she stayed silent. Eventually they did and she was able to retrieve her book bag from the puddle. Cradling her book bag as if it were a baby she made a beeline to the sixth floor bathroom to dry out her damaged books and bag.

Quietly she sat in the corner of the bathroom near the window laying out her books to dry as she cleaned her bag from the mud and dirt in the nearest sink.

"Sie sind nur Idioten. ..don't nimmt es persönlich." She muttered to herself.

Exhaling slowly she tried to push the thought of revenge out of her head.

Translation:

Sie sind nur Idioten. ..don't nimmt es persönlich. --- They're just being idiots...don't take it personally.

5th Year Posts : 129 Stats : 67 Join date : 2011-03-20

A pattern of water drops slowly hit the floor, eat one carrying a small, soft explosion as it hit
the tiled floor. Everything was heavy, clinging close to the body, soaking in the water and
pulling everything down. It was a child, pleading for the attention and the love, even when
so cold and unwanted by many. It begged, but most didn't like the rain for its begging. They
all ran from it, hid for cover. Did they realize that perhaps that was why rain was such a sad
child?

Mystery had sat out in the rain.

It was the place where she could feel the emotions, running off of her skin. She didn't have
an intrusion. She didn't have to feel anything. Just the water. Just the cold. Just the wet air
that surrounded her. The rain had stopped the clouds of emotions. It jumped on them,
sucked them up and pulled them down. Nothing could infiltrate Mystery, she thought, with
the rain running its love.

She sat in the quiet bathroom, where there hadn't been much noise.

Until a girl had walked in, her books wet and muddy. Mystery had stood in the shadows of
the window, silently, quietly. Nothing had bothered her until now.