A Sketch To Tear Apart

[Aethlinde Arlett]

Aethlinde knew not what she was still doing within the walls of Hogwarts New Zealand. After all, as she had predicted, her performance was not going too well. One could say that she was doing absolutely horrible in her class. She was not very good academically, that was what she was sure of, and still, here she was forced to go into this magic school that was sometimes filled with barbarians they call students. She couldn't even fathom how those who had graduated were able to put up with all of this? It was noisy. And a lot of people were rude. And all in all, she really just didn't want to interact with anybody. That was why she mostly kept to herself, her drawing book in hand as well as her numerous pencils, and in beautiful days like today, her camera. It was a peaceful day after all. That was why, she dressed herself comfortably and warm with a sweatshirt and sweatpants, as well as keeping her blonde hair in a messy bun. A lot of students were in class, but not her. She decided to skip after all, especially since it wasn't her sister's class. She was headed for the Courtyard to do her kind of arts.

Aeli had her bag slung on her shoulder containing her camera and pencils while her tiny frame clutched her drawing book closely to her chest as she quietly sneaked around the hallways of the castle. It wasn't really because she didn't want to get caught by a professor. It was mostly because she didn't want to interact with people. And with her hair in a bun, she was actually very uncomfortable with the thought that somebody would see her. She didn't exactly think of herself as beautiful after all, even if there would be rare cases that others would tell her otherwise. It took her half an hour to safely get into the Courtyard from the Hufflepuff dormitories. There were no students around as she had predicted thanks to the fact that classes were currently ongoing and would not end for quite a while. Deeming the place safe, she allowed herself to sink into one of the benches and sat cross-legged as she took out her camera and started taking picture for a few minutes before deciding that sketching was the better option for today. Quietly, she started to sketch the courtyard without a care, thinking that nobody would catch her off guard at such a time.
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[Vladimir Zhefarovich]

The year started off with a bang. Vladimir Zhefarovich was named prefect, which he honestly expected. He was known for his nobility despite being a royal ass to those around him. He avoided trouble like it was the plague. However, today, he was patrolling, or more like, trying to find out where his best friend was heading to all this time. Blaine was getting good at giving him the slip nowadays. And Vladimir, he was just suspicious as ever. However, he was getting too mad about it too. Probably why he was in a bad mood right now, which was never good for those that crossed his path. And, being in the courtyard with that brooding look on his face, Vladimir didn't doubt that anyone would ever try to talk to him right now. That would be a mistake if someone were to cross him. However, since no one did, he could not find someone to cent his anger on. This was no good. All this pent up frustration and no one to take it out on. That is, until his black eyes found their way to another person. A first year. She was sitting, all alone and perfect for the picking. Could he really so cruel to someone so young? Since being around Belladonna, he could definitely recognize the Part-Veela features. That just gave him the perfect excuse.

Being silent like a small stream in the woods, Vladimir slowly reached inside of his robes and pulled out his wand. He took note of how she was drawing, and barely noticed the camera next to her. He could break that easily, but for now, he wanted to see something go up in flames. Hopes, dreams, anything to make the anger within him go away. He waved his wand and intoned coldly, "Incendio." The sketch went up in flames, and Vladimir smirked to himself. Should he provide her an explanation? He did not know whether or not he wanted to, or if he cared to. Well, perhaps try to hide it with something even more hurtful. It should bring him a few moments of relief. "Your drawing was mediocre at best. It'll look better as a pile of ashes."

It'll get better...​