Admission Of Everything

[Stefan Archer]

The first step in recovery is being able to say, admit what’s wrong. The first step always the biggest. The first step, the only one to fill a person with such dread as to what could be worse than admitting it. Of course, what if there was so much to recover from that was too much to be able to tell. The embarrassment for what happened. Not having the control over a life belonging to oneself. It wasn’t easy to say yes, I need help. For some it came easier, others it was words that had scarcely, if ever been muttered. But inwardly they had been screamed. The same thought, please, someone, just anyone help me please. People only ever saw what they needed to see. An open and closed way of living. Ignoring the little cracks in society that so desperately needed looking into. For most rock bottom had to be hit, true rock bottom before accepting help became a possibility. Before, admission of terrible things could be uttered. It was a sad fact that mere days following the colourblind teen’s sixteenth birthday rock bottom had well and truly been hit. The decisions he’d made seemed silly now, his entire appeared to be like a joke. He was sixteen, he was sixteen. He had nothing to show for his sixteen years of life. He had more bad memories than any other his age, he’d suffered more, been through hell and yet here he was at sixteen. Hitting the rock below with such harshness that tears sprung into large blue eyes. Stefan Archer had only ever told one person a little about what he’d suffered. He’d been to scared to say more. Now, he knew that he needed to tell people.

The nightmares gave the teen little rest. The winter was rolling in fast. Soon there would be denying that his life would be hard. As if it hadn’t already been hard enough. However, the former slytherin could never find the words to say, please help me. Please. Oddly enough in the dark silence of the nights, as the nightmares awoke him he found he could say it. The words, please, help me. Please god help me. Stefan had never been religious. He hadn’t ever read a bible or been to church, he’d not really known what religion was until Hogwarts. He had in the beginning believed strongly that there couldn’t be a god, what had he done to make this guy so angry at him. Punishing him in the ways of colorblindness, a horrible father, a dead mother, a terrible foster family and now this. But, when he felt he had no one else to turn to, begging for help from someone he hadn’t believed in seemed right. That day was different. Although, the days after his sixteenth a new set of terrible things seemed to strike him. The first being how little he’d been sleeping finally catching up to him, and the second being the hunger. His food supply had run out pretty quickly, but he’d managed to keep the food situation steady, up until he’d made the decision to go back to school and see Kate. That had been the day of his birthday. He knew that it wasn’t a good decision.He doubted she’d want to see him after how he’d acted, but Stefan no longer had limits, and in all honesty he was going to ask for her help. She’d help him, no questions asked. If she was willing to even speak to him after what he’d done. Stefan thought everyday about contacting her. He loved her so much. He missed her everyday. In the darkness that was gradually clouding over his life she was the ray of sunshine he would always. The person keeping him from doing something he couldn’t take back.

It was surprisingly that the one he’d left for was now the one he was crawling back to. Kate had been the girl for him the minute he’d met her. He just hadn’t known that until recently. Kate Moon was the reason he’d even made it to sixteen. Sure, Hogwarts had a large part to play in that too, as did the friends he had managed to make in his time at the school, but this was different. Kate was the one person he could imagine if he was so lucky spending the rest of his life with. It was hard for him to even imagine such a concept. Spending the rest of your life with someone, willing and in love. Stefan was afraid that it wouldn’t be forever, that his terrible luck would follow him into adulthood, but the fears were no longer enough to be keeping him away. Stefan had always been a determined kid. At Hogwarts he’d worked endlessly to understand things. To be able to read them and see what he was writing. To learn how to write, improve his reading skills. Now, he was determined in a different manner. His mind was solely thinking of Kate. His apology forming. He knew his fear may mean it would take him several times before being able to do it, but he was sure given time, he’d be with Kate. And things from then on would have to get better. Surely he wouldn’t be damned to bad luck all his life. After all, he would always be colourblind and it would be bad luck indeed if he passed it on to any kids he would have in the future. But even that was too far ahead for Stefan to want to consider.

On the third day of walking at a much slower pace than normal the teen reached the village, it had been raining on and off all day. Never raining for long, but always raining heavily. Stefan Archer felt more than defeated, he felt lower than he’d ever felt before. Considering Stefan’s life it would surprise many how many times Stefan felt at rock bottom, than there could be more rock bottom than not being able to see color and having a father beat you close to everyday. While one had ended the long line of bullish!t things that happen to him seemed to bring about an all knew low. Stefan however could claim, he could swear on what little he had that it was the worst feeling ever. He was cold, wet, starving and exhausted. Stefan was not a small boy anymore, standing at 5ft 10 but this didn’t stop him from being the same in size. Thin build, very prominent bones sticking out, tall lanky and thin. He was dirty, his clothes looked lived in, and there were very clear tear stains on his cheeks. Overall, Stefan didn’t look good. He stopped for a moment and swayed on the spot. Not a good sign, he needed to sleep, or sit down. He needed just rest. Then he could make it the rest of the way. The final stretch. He was ready to admit it now, as Stefan made his way to the closest bench, he knew he was ready to finally admit what was wrong and be ready to take a step forward and just accept the help he so desperately needed.

Despite having made it to sixteen, his chances for seventeen at that point didn’t look good, especially if he carried on doing what he was doing. Stefan gladly took a seat on the bench. He placed his small, worm backpack beside him on the bench and just relaxed. He could feel the pain that had built in his feet just sliding away. His hunger rumbled his stomach, but while very hungry his tiredness was winning. He was just so exhausted that sleeping would be best. But, Stefan knew he could hardly sleep on a very clear bench. People would surely see, and he hardly needed questions. Not now, not so close to her. He could hear her laugh in his head. He could see her smile, the way she was everything he had ever wanted. Someone who cared. So many in his life just hadn’t, but she had. Stefan sighed, and just stared out. His vision becoming blurry as sleep began to win their battle. Stefan couldn’t sleep yet. This was just going to be a small rest. Stefan groaned slightly, he needed to move somewhere more secluded. He was unsteady on his feet, he was swaying slightly. The world appeared to be spinning. Stefan held his arms out to balance himself, but this battle was lost. Collapsing back onto the bench, Stefan put his head into his hands and leaned forward. Leaning his elbows on his knees. He wanted the world to stop spinning. He just wanted help. No, Stefan Archer needed help. ”Please” he whispered under his breath. Pleading clear in the small word. Admission was the step to recovery, and somehow after all the fighting and reluctancy, it had been surprisingly easy.
​

 

[Briar Rowan-Cullen]

wrong account

 

[Professor Elvera Le Fey]

Elvera was heading back to the castle. she had spent the afternoon with mayer her cousin in madam puddifoots. they had had an enjoyably time. chatting away, elvera taking some of the duties when they had a customer to give maya a little time off as although she worked two jobs two at least morgan was happy and healthy when Elvera could see that her aunty Gwen wasn't very well, and maya was having to look after her. she was taking her time as she walked along the main street. she had no real need to get back to the castle as she had no classes or patrols that afternoon or evening, and the it was a nice autumns day. maybe she should call in and see Eden, and see how she was getting on. she hadn't seen her twin for a while, though she got regular updates from Morgan as she was looking after aine for her. deciding that that could wait for a while, this was the time of day when Eden got to spend with her daughter, so she didn't want to spoil it for her. instead she went into madam malkins, to see if they had any nice baskets in. as although it was still quite warm in the days it was starting to get cooler at night, and she knew that soon she would be needing one. she looked through the new winter stock and found a cardigan that she really liked. deciding to treat herself she bought it before leaving the shop.
back in hand she made her way a little longer down the street. her long hair loose and blowing slightly in the light breeze. she was just passing the part of the street where the park was. so there was not much for a little way just the benches. she heard a noise besides her. Normally she wouldn't pay much attention to it, probably a stray cat, or a mother and child. however today fate would have it she turned to see what it was. there she saw a boy. probably around fifteen or sixteen looking like he had not seen a shower, good meal or clean clothes for some time. sitting their head in his hands as if he was trying to hold back some form of despair or pain. a moment later she realised that he looked familiar she had heard from both the gossip magazine that stefan had dropped out of the school and was homeless, bhr he had thought that it was annother one of the authers make up stories. however looking at the boy, if he was who she thought she was, it seemed like the magazine had been right. "Stefan?" she asked heading towards the boy on the bench. even if it wasn't Stefan he looked like he needed some help. "what's wrong?" she asked, she could tell by looking at him that he wasn't okay. she crouched down in front of the boy so that she could see him better. her green and violet eyes looking at where his would be if his hands weren't there. now she was sure it was stefan. "Is there anything I can do to help you stefan?" she asked resisting the urge to touch him reassuringly as she knew that whatever was wrong with him he seemed weak, and she was pretty sure that any contact would give her a rush of visions, also last time she had met him he had had so many bruises and cuts that she didn't want to cause him any pain by mistake. instead she just stayed there waiting for him to respond.

 

[Stefan Archer]

There was however a small flaw in the former slytherin’s quest for help. Where on earth could be able to begin. There was so much. Where did he start, the very beginning, his first memories being as terrible as the ones that then followed. Each one seemingly more horrific than the last. Or should he just start at this point, at his foster family and what had followed that. The mistrust he now found he had for almost all adults he came into contact with. The mistrust that made him run and scamper away each time one got close to him. Which generally wasn’t many, since the former slytherin had very much learned to keep his distance in those kind of matters. All in the name of self preservation, and staying away from people who’d send him back to what he believed was a much greater hell. Even after this time living a little bit everywhere, hitting a whole new low, the teen could with great relief say that this was better than the alternative of what he’d suffered through because of a flawed system. The flawed system that he’d rather not be in. Sure, it decreased his chances of reaching another year not being in it, but his life hadn’t improved at all under those conditions. If anything it had gotten worse, he’d been told the people he’d be going to would care for him. Would be the parents he’d never really had, instead he’d had a repeat of his father. Set one foot out of line and get hit. Muggle school had always not been great. His brief sixth month stint at a muggle school had left him feeling more helpless. There he’d turn up to school with fresh cuts and bruises and yet no one questioned it. No one asked. No one spared him a glance. His foster family had been killing all the parts of him he’d managed to hold on to during the time with his father. It had broken away what little had been left of him. Even if Hogwarts had begun to put the pieces back together it hadn’t been enough. The magazine broadcasting what was most secret about his life had not been something he had been willing to face. Who else would enjoy the darkest moments written in such a careless fashion. Stefan was human after all, he hadn’t wanted to tell people. He hadn’t wanted it put in such a way that it seemed to be his fault. While he thought it was mostly his fault that it had happened, he had been trying to not convince himself of that, and people would now think that he did. He had needed to leave, and that’s what he’d done. Now, he was suffering from it. It would appear that it had been a somewhat quick and terrible decision. But Stefan would do it all over. It didn’t matter how tired he was, or how hungry, he felt a lot better. If he wasn’t going make it, he’d rather it be like this rather than at the hands of someone who was meant to be his parent.

The sound of foot prints sounded, his ears pricked up, but Stefan was so tired he couldn’t begin to move away. he didn’t think it mattered any more. He was too exhausted to move, and he was more willing to accept this person. Hope to every high power that this person would help him, and not hurt him, or send him to the other hell. He didn’t know who could be out at this time, slightly further away from the castle. He had no real idea what time of day it was or what was happening on the Hogwarts time table. He thought it had to be an adult, which was why he was reluctant to look up. Why despite his situation and desire to seek help from any outlet giving it, his nerves, and what he believed was his cowardice seemed to be winning. His name was called. This brought his head up slightly, not enough so it was noticeable, but now it was someone who knew him. Someone he’d run into before. Now, they had to be from the school, there was no way it could be anyone else. After all he had nothing else. No one else. His life outside stood was bleak, he knew no one. No one knew him, so it was someone from the castle. Someone who would probably try to convince him to go back, but how could he face such a thing. A school who he’d turned his back on. Who he’d turned away from. Run from. Whats wrong, everything was wrong. Little was right, but it was the second realization of what his life had become reigned down on him. Stefan couldn’t help but let out a small sob. So much was wrong. What had happened, what had he done to deserve this kind of life. It was his eternal question. Why him? He sighed deeply as she asked if there was anything she could do for him. He sat up straight, and his eyes met hers. However his colorblindness didn’t give away that he didn’t see her eyes were different colors. His eyes were blurry, they were brimming with tears. He was so low. He had nothing left. He sighed again and leaned back in the chair, resting his hands on his lap and leaning his head back. He was so exhausted. His stomach grumbled loudly. The last eaten was a while ago, and even that had been a tiny thing that couldn’t really be classed as a real meal. The last time he’d eaten something like that was a long time before. He shrugged at her, finally realizing who it was. The name escaped him, but he knew her as a professor at school, and as the woman who’d given him food. The one who’d looked at him oddly. Somehow he felt okay in her company. It didn’t make him want to run off. In any case, he wanted to tell her, finally admit he wasn’t okay.

”Everything is wrong.” Stefan leaned forward again, only briefly meeting her eyes as he sat his eyes on the ground in front of him. He moved along the bench slowly to give the woman enough place to sit down. Or to at least show that he wanted her to sit. ”I don’t what you could do. I don’t know what to do.” Stefan felt small tears break from his eyes. He could feel them slowly slipping down his cheeks. ”I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to. I want it to be over.” Stefan wasn’t seriously thinking of death, but he was so tired, he was so hungry. If he didn’t get some rest or some food then he knew it would be what would happen to him. There was just one small problem, the sleep didn’t come because of the nightmares, and the hunger couldn’t be solved because he didn’t have the money. It was an endless loophole that was driving Stefan’s body over the edge. It was just a good thing it was so used to so little. Were it not for that, he was sure he’d be long gone. Stefan put his head in his hands again, and as he sat his body shook. It was cold, he was damp. He was thin, and had too little energy for his body to be able to warm up. He wiped his cheeks, he needed to be strong, but he couldn’t. Not anymore, Stefan had reached his breaking point. So as he attempted to wipe the tears from his cheeks more would fall. Slow but steady. His father would’ve thought so little of him in that moment. He would’ve taken this as a reason to beat Stefan. But his father was dead. And Stefan had suffered enough. It was time for him to get out of the seemingly bottomless pit of back luck that he stuck in.
​

 

[Professor Elvera Le Fey]

Elvera saw Stefan glance at her and she smiled slightly in what she hoped was a reassuring way. she had thought before that Morgan was going a little over the top taking the children in, at the moment there was Elvera, and her two sisters, Eden and Lilith, then Morgan was looking after Edens daughter Aine, and she had taken in Sapphire and Ruby, and most recently Netty. she just hoped that Morgan would stay like she was and not end up in a state similar to Gwen her own twin. but then again Morgan seemed to improve with each child she had. much better than when she had first found her. she could still see her mother there sitting at the top of the tower looking like she hadn't moved for months, her skin chalky, her bones visible. her hair unwashed tangles. yes she was certainly much better with more children and looking at stefan right now Elvera realised that she had to learn from her mother. and there was lesson in her madness. at his reply to her first question she was a little shocked and wasn't sure 100% how to reply. her green and violet eyes met his vivid blue ones for the briefest of moments, she looked away quicky before she got a vision. "I promise that I will try my best to make more things right." she said sincerity in her voice. she would never go back on a promise, especially one that was as vital as this.
the boy moved over on the bench and Elvera took that as a hint that he wanted her compony for a little while she nodded slightly and moved to sit there next to him. her white dress resting lightly on her lap. it was one of her favourite every day ones, the white preferred over the dark colours and the lace gave it a vintage victorian style. she looked across at the boy, she wasn't sure if it was the angle she was looking at or that he had moved but she saw tears start to appear in the boys eyes. just the look on his face as he sat there and hid deflated body language made her feel like crying too. instead she put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and rubbed it lightly, surprising herself that she managed to keep almost all the visions away, she only got one of a dark ally where stefan was sleeping. she let go and reached into her bag and took out a hanky. she gave it to stefan to dry his face and blow his nose or do whatever he needed. he spoke again and his time she had to look down in order to make sure she didn't see anything else or shoe how worried for him she was. "do you want to tell me about everything that is wrong and then I will see what I will be able to do" she said. even if she wasn't able to do anything she knew Eden had a lot of connections. and if necessary she may be able to get a favour off her. when the boy said that he was not sure if he wanted to continue any more she shook her head. "Stefan you shouldn't think like that. I know you will be missed if it is over. you have your life ahead of you" she said. she didn't want to look into his future. as she was scared that if she saw something bad she wouldn't be able to reassure him the same. however she felt him shivering next to her. it wasn't too cold, but she guessed by looking at him that he was tired and hungry. and that had a tendency to make anyone cold. she reached down again this time into the paper bag that she had been carrying. she took out her new cardigan. it was a grey colour and although a simple cut it was clearly well made and would look rather flattering on. "that may help a little. Sorry it's a ladies one" she said as she waited for him to say something.

Out of Character:

I can take the vision out if you want me to. like will all following visions. I don't mean to god mod, so i am making them rather general, but if you know of/want anything specific just let me know.

 

[Stefan Archer]

The smallest of rays of hope were the only things that had ever kept him going. They were all he’d clung to in the darkest of nights, the little rays of hope given to him. The ones who were memories, or dreams. The dream of seeing another day, of feeling the sun on his face. The way the air felt against his skin when a light wind was blowing. The way the snow had melted on his skin, giving his fingers a small tingling feeling. The simple things had always been what kept him going. It was the hope that he’d always carried. The hope that one day it would end and his life could mend itself, that his shattered heart could finally heal. Become what it had never been. Since day after day it had been broken into more and more tiny little pieces. The hope of seeing the next day had changed when he’d arrived at school. The introduction of people into his life, the realization that how he’d been treated by his father really wasn’t how he was ever meant to be treated. It wasn’t the way humans were supposed to be. There had been a realization in him, that his life was just so very wrong, but more than this, starting school had changed his life. He had friends, he had people around all the time, people who cared about him. People who would’ve been willing to help him. But, what could he have really done at that time. His father had been more powerful than him. The realizations hadn’t been enough to drive him into doing anything. His friends may have surrounded him, but what could they have done. His life had been relatively good then. It was only during the break that things had gotten worse. Everything had started headed down hill. His father had a new strength, a new drive and it was all about hitting him until he passed out. Things had been bad before, but, in the most part things had gotten worse and worse. He was always so glad to get back to school after each holiday. But it had become odd to him that the 5 or so months he’d spend at school would feel shorter than the weeks he’d spent at home. All in all it had lead to this moment. This moment of realization that enough was enough. Promises were empty. His father had once or twice told him that it was the last time, that he promised to never hit him again. He’d been promised that his life would be better with the new family. Promises meant little to nothing to the teen. People could promise all they wanted, but in Stefan’s experience it didn’t matter. It mattered so little because they really were only empty words. And they were words Stefan struggled to believe. Use words like useless, or waste and Stefan believed it easily. But, promises, Stefan liked them with a grain of salt.

Of course this point in his life was the climax. THe point where he realized he couldn’t take any more of it. Where he was struggling to feel the hope that had always kept him going through the darker times. Where he was so tired that he almost was wishing his father was alive because then at least he had something to go back to. At least he’d had a roof over his head and soft bed. Well, it hadn’t been that soft, but it had always been enough for him. School didn’t even appear in his brain. All he knew now, was that he was completely empty. He was out of the strength he was always praised for. Out of the hope he’d always clung onto. His heart had been shattered one to many times. It was why despite his strong desire to tell someone everything he just wanted to say nothing at all. Where would be a good place to start. Where would make the most sense? What should come first? Which of the horrors should he start with. Which was the better thing to go on about? Would this woman really care when it came down to it? No one had really cared before. Why would this person be any different. It was why he wanted Kate, he needed her. But he wasn’t getting there, he knew now that he needed to rest. He couldn’t make the extra steps to her. With his head in his hands, the former slytherin felt his entire demeanor crumble. Whatever strength he might’ve had was gone. He looked up to the woman, not quite meeting her eyes this time around. ”Where should I start?” Stefan gave a small scoff of a laugh, however he took the hanky but he never used it, instead his hand enclosed around it and he held it tightly. It wasn’t funny, but it was a basic summation of his entire life. A question of what’s wrong, mixed with not knowing what to start with. Too much terrible to know what should be the first thing to say. Not many could claim to that. He’d be one of the first to have that. Shaking his head at her, he put his head back into his head and wiped away more of his tears. The movement was futile. Tears were almost flowing steadily. He shook his head at her again, looking at her briefly. ”But, that’s just it.” Stefan knew it wasn’t a matter of being missed. He didn’t actually want to die, but he wasn’t going to make it much longer unless he stopped and got some form of help. ”What possible life could I have? I have nothing. Nothing.” Stefan muttered.He truly did have nothing. The only things he had left at that point was all the things in his bag. And whatever possession existed in the house he’d lived in with his father. At his own words, he stopped attempting to wipe the tears away from his eyes. It was true that he had nothing. But, as much as he said it, today, right there and then, it felt different. Like he really did believe that he had nothing. He looked up at the woman in thanks, taking both ends of the jumper and holding them close to himself.

The jumper being the first piece of warmth he’d felt in a while. His own clothes were all either wet or damp, and offer not warmth for him. Stefan held it close to him, almost wrapping his arms around himself. Leaning forward slightly, so his body was curled. There was a numbing constant ache in his stomach. It was empty. Truly empty, the ache was the painful reminder that his desperately needed food that Stefan simply just did not have. ”Thanks.” Stefan sighed. he looked up at her. He took a deep breath, he was finding the courage. He needed help and this desire for help was giving him an odd courage he’d lacked before. ”My mother died when I was two, suicide. My dad, he never got over it, always blamed me for it. He’d take a drink, and another, he’d get angry, and I was just always in the way.” Stefan hadn’t kept his eyes on her. He’d looked down to his hands. His tears had almost completely dried up apart from just a few. He wiped stray tears. He didn’t feel better. ”No matter how hard I tried, I was always in the way. I could do nothing right. He was right though. My father, I’m colourblind, I’m not good at reading, or writing, I’m pathetic. He was right, I was always in the way. I deserved to be punished. I just, what did I do to deserve that kind of a dad?” Stefan’s hands were visibly shaking. Long, bony fingers curl into fist sitting on his lap. He could meet her eyes. He couldn’t look up, what if she thought the same? However as Stefan had been speaking his voice had trailed off, breaking in several bits. The question always hung in his brain, What Have I Done to Deserve this? ”The worst part is, I thought what he was doing was normal. I thought that was how people were meant to be treated. How kids were treated. Lesser humans” Stefan couldn’t believe after all this time he was finally saying it. Telling some of it. He didn’t feel better, he didn’t feel worse, but a part of him believed that honesty would be the right path for his recovery ”What can you do about that?”

No, it’s all good! And I’ll let you know if there is anything.​

<i></i>

 

[Professor Elvera Le Fey]

Elvera waited for Stefan to talk. at his words she felt her heart go out to him. Even though she knew that he scoffed after she could tell that it was as a way to hide how much it was hurting him. "The beginning would be a good place. I have nowhere to rush until I have the fifth years but that’s tomorrow afternoon." she said before realizing that she was rambling and most likely making the already uncomfortable Stefan more uncomfortable she smiled. "sorry I will shut up now" she said looking down. She really should learn when to be quiet. She clasped her hands together part out of nerves and part to stop herself putting her arm around his shoulder. "You don't have nothing. I know that there are people who care about you in the castle. Even if it isn’t as practical as other things at time, but in the end it is worth a lot more" she said unsure if it would help. When you were a similar situation that she knew Stefan was she guessed that food and shelter and warmth were the most valuable things. She wished that she had thought to bring something from the tea shop and kicked herself for not doing so. Her cousin made some great food.
She smiled as she saw him wrap himself in her cardigan. Unable to help herself she put her arm around his shoulder to try and warm him up. He looked freezing. Sometimes at times like this she wished that there was a way for her to swap places with the boy. The knew that she wouldn’t be able to cope with this any better than him, probably no where near as well, but to see the pain on his face go and be replaces with happiness would make it worth it in her eyes.
What he said next surprised her. She wasn’t expecting him to tell her things easily and she certainly didn’t expect what he was saying. His mother committing suicide. That on its own would have been sad. She could see how someone couldn’t get over that easily, she knew Morgan had never truly gotten over Arthur the man she had loved, who had vanished one night, and Eden was, no mater how many other men she fell for, not over chase, hence why she had promised herself never to fall in love, thought she had been close about a year ago. Regardless a broken heart didn’t give anyone reason to take their sadness and grief out on alcohol and their child. ”he shouldn’t have done that Stefan. It certainly wasn’t your fault, you didn’t do anything to deserve a dad like that. You didn’t deserve to be punished. He should be the one asking how he managed to have such a brave strong son, to be able to put up with his beatings” she said remembering what she had seen last time she had met him. The man beating him to the floor. Elvera had always believed that quite often the brave and strong people were not the ones who went fighting back all the time, but the ones who knew what was gong to happen to them and take it silently without complaining. ”you aren’t pathetic, your farther was once again wrong. Colorblindness isn’t a sign of weakness or a sign that you are less value than anyone else, it is just something that makes you who you are. And did you know some of the smartest people in both the wizarding and muggle world were not very good at reading or writing.” she said. Elvera was one who liked to read and read she did, although history of magic was not a strong subject of hers when she had been at school she enjoyed history for pleasure as the past is where you learn from your mistakes. At his last comment she couldn’t help but hold him a little light for a moment hug as if to protect him. ”there isn’t anything that anyone can do to change the past. However If you want to I will turn him into the ministry to get him tried and find a family who can look after you properly” she said already thinking of Morgan. Sure she had only taken in girls before, but Elvera was sure that gender wasn’t a part of her adoption process; it had just been coincidence that they had all been girls. However she didn’t ay this to Stefan, she didn’t want to scare him.

 

[Stefan Archer]

It was true, that things after the first moment that his father had first hit Stefan there had been no turning back. There was little return to what had once been. The former Slytherin knew very little about his life before his mother had died, before his father had favored the bottle rather than appropriate parenting. Stefan had never known the dad who’d stayed up the whole night with Stefan because he had a fever at six months. The one who’d spoken to the doctors about the concerns about Stefan’s eyesight. Because little did Stefan know that his father too was colourblind. He’d been more annoyed at himself for passing on such a terrible thing to his son, His father had unfortunately not known how to process the information and with the death of the love his life, something just cracked. Something within the older man just broke and he never got over it. Stefan couldn’t know all that, his father had hardly been an honest man. The Archer’s kept secrets. Stefan didn’t even know where his dad was from. He didn’t even know his real name. He had known him as dad or father right up until the day he died. He knew that the beginning had been a good place to start, but starting with his father, with the man who’d made his life a living hell for as long as he could remember was difficult. He didn’t know how to deal with it in reality. It was just another factor in the large collection of sh!t things that had happened to Stefan. The former slytherin now acknowledged more than ever that his luck had to be the worst. That finding a place to start talking was just as difficult as talking about it. The gravity of that never failed to make the Slytherin more miserable than he was in that moment. He knew he might still have kate, but he imagined after this stunt he probably didn’t. What would she want with a guy like him. Running away from someone who cared about him. The only person who cared about him. Stefan hadn’t known how to deal very well with the affection he’d received, even if he’d wanted it. To feel loved, to be in love. The love of an amazing girl, or anyone was something he hadn’t ever felt. ”Whoever I had left, will have given up by now. They all do.” Stefan replied, sighing as he said that. In all honesty apart from a few friends that had left, he hadn’t had anyone else, but losing them in a less literal sense had been hard for the teen. He’d told them things about himself. Hoped for a day that the might be there when he was an adult, to celebrate along with him that he managed to make it that far. That he’d lived enough years. After all, he’d just turned sixteen and he had nothing really left. He had nothing to show for sixteen. He knew he probably wouldn’t see seventeen. That was just the sad reality he’d decided for himself. The only one he thought he was going to get. His luck had been so bad so far, he wished for it to stop, but he believed that had to fantasy, and the reality would be that his terrible luck would continue. Always.

As the woman put her arm around him, he shuddered slightly but only tried slightly to move away. His shoulders staying pretty stiff, as he was vaguely afraid of what the woman might do. He trusted her, she’d been nice to him before, but there was no guarantee that would stay. He didn’t know if there were things that annoyed her, or things he shouldn’t bring up that would end in a slap. He however decided that putting his trust in her would be better than not putting his trust in her. What if she was really harmless, what if she actually tried to help him. It was what he needed, what he wanted. Stefan knew he’d probably not see the end of the week if he didn’t ask for help. If he didn’t trust her. All in all, Stefan attempted to not act so tense, it failed, but he tried. As she spoke he leaned further forward, tearing the hanky up in his hands due to an odd stress he was feeling. He also did that because his stomach was hurting more than ever. He closed his eyes tightly and focused only on her voice . Only on her. The words brave son, made him shake his head. A faint memory appearing in his head. A memory he’d long hidden deep inside himself resurfacing at the worst possible moment. Stefan had buried a lot of things he didn’t want people to know. A lot of things that he didn’t want to have to live with.

Stefan was sitting in the center of the hallway, only about four at the time. A thin, frail and small body, sitting in nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of kid sized boxers that were clearly second hand. He’s bright blue eyes had the curious nature of a child shining in them, and his black hair short standing at all ends. He was sitting alone in the darkness, deeply shivering. He was crying, clutching his arm to his chest, intense pain shooting from every edge of his body. He was crying because everything was sore, because he was hungry and because he was just so cold. There was a badly broken window in the next room and the door to the room was open. Snow was falling outside, in little flutters. But, four year old Stefan was sitting alone. Crying and crying as he had been for what seemed like hours. There was no one home. Stefan hadn’t eaten all day, there hadn’t been anyone home to feed him. Slowly the crying boy lifted himself off the floor and stood on his two feet. Bruised legs made it hard for the boy to stay standing. His feet were wobbly on the rough old carpet. He wandered into the kitchen and was faced with another problem, everything was too high. Stefan had been small for his age. This caused Stefan to crying even harder, if it had been possible. There was a moment when the four year old took a breath and in this moment the entire house shook as a door slammed. ”Daddy?” Stefan exclaimed between his tears, he could hear heavy footsteps. Stefan wasn’t actually allowed in the kitchen. Stefan was suddenly very scared. With what little time he had, Stefan scrambled so he was sat in the cupboard under the kitchen sink. He had stifled all noise he made, learning to cry without making a noise. Cowardly hiding in the closet until his father left the room. However hungry he’d been was forgotten. Instead he waited long enough and then headed into the living room where his father was sitting nursing a cheap whiskey. ”Daddy? I’m humgry” Stefan said only loud enough for his dad to hear. Though if he had, his dad made no movement to show he had. ”Daddy, pwease.” Stefan said, tears beginning to fall down his face faster. ”Daddy?” Stefan was getting more desperate. He was so hungry, his arm was still against his chest, he was wobbling on his feet. ”Pwease, daddy, pwease daddy, I’m humgry. Let me eat.” The four year old couldn’t help but be pleading with his father. He hadn’t eaten all day. The day before had been a slice of bread and an apple. However as Stefan prepared to ask again he had no time to. A smack was all he hard, pain shot across his face as he tumbled to the ground.

It had been the last time Stefan had even pleading with his father for food. He’d learned to just wait, and if he had nothing to get it himself. There was always a way. He’d learned his lesson, but he couldn’t help but disagree with Elvera. He was anything but brave. He hadn’t ever tried asking his father for anything. Not since then. He didn’t think he was brave, the one time he’d attempted to stand up to the man he’d been fourteen. Hardly the age to start. His father won easily. However, he’d completely missed what she’d said. His mind entirely focused else where. On the memory he’d begged himself to forget. The one he knew he could never tell anyone, or wished he’d never have to. It was the kind of memory that had always haunted Stefan. It was the main reason he was afraid of accepting things from people, why he was afraid of asking for help. Asking for anything. Something stemming from an incident at four years old. Sadly enough, it was one of Stefan’s earliest memories. One of the ones he’d promptly opted to forget. He sat up a little just in time for her to hold him. It was a first time, it was the very first time he’d been held close to anyone since his father had last held him at two. His father the times he was affectionate it was always faked but there and then he felt oddly safe. But of course, what else was there for him. Who else apart from social workers were out to get him. Stefan began to shake his head furiously. He didn’t want to go to a foster care. He didn’t want to be placed with a family. The last one hadn’t been much better. ”There’s no way I’m back to some family who don’t give a sh!t about me. I’m a paycheck to them. No.” Stefan shook his head. There was no way he was going to back. How then was anything supposed to be solved if there was really nothing left. He didn’t want to just go to social services. Not again. ”The muggle social worker told me everything would be better. That they’d treat my like how I was meant to be treated. It was just as bad.” Stefan was now hearing himself, one bad parents onto two more. He had the worst luck, he felt like laughing, his life was a complete and utter joke, or so he believed. ”I wasn’t allowed to eat their food, I did everything they asked me to do, and still they’d find something wrong with it. One plate not clean enough, the picture frame not straight. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t.” Stefan felt his anger towards them rising. ”I couldn’t stop them either. So, no.” He hadn’t been able to take it from them. He had dealt with it with his dad because they were related but no more. Never again. ”As for turning in for my father, it’s a bit hard. He’s dead.” Stefan scoffed again. A few stray tears falling from his eyes. ”I don’t know what to do anymore.” This caused more tears to fall from his eyes. He couldn’t stop them, all he could do was put his head back into his hands and let them fall.
​

 

[Professor Elvera Le Fey]

Out of Character:

sorry in advance if it sucks

Elvera felt stefan tense and let go. she didn't want to make him uncomfortable. she saw that he wasn't comfortable in trusting others as he believed that they would leave him. she frowned and shook her head. she too deep down thought that some people would always leave. she had tried to trust some people but they seemed to leave. that was why she was twenty one and never had a prober boyfriend. but she also had her family who she could trust. but most of the time she was also someone who would stand on her own. "Not everyone leaves. Some people, the people who are meant to, will stay around" she said half to reassure herself and half to reassure stefan. she had found out only recently found out that the man she had taken a chance to trust was now dating another woman, not just any woman, but her sisters best friend. she sighed. she would never be one to find someone, not even a close friend who she wasn't related to. she saw stefan go quiet for a few moments and she wondered what was on his mind but she didn't want to ask. some things were better left until they were meant to be reviled she knew that well.
she thought she did see some papers though, papers that looked official and had stefans name on. she tried to focus on them and saw that they seemed to say that the belonged to the muggle foster agency. she realised that this was dated about a year ago so he must have already been though that. this was confirmed when he said that he had already tried fostering. she smiled softly at this, she knew that there were some people who took in children for their own gain. the worst had to be "that belladonna woman" who had taken in sapphire and ruby when they had both been young and had only just had her comeuppance. "there will always be people who are in it just for the money. but I know someone who does look after children who have been through things like you, someone who does it right" she said referring to her mother, she wasn't sure if Morgan did it right in the eyes of the law, and official paper work, but the change in ruby in the time she had been with morgan spoke for its self, though she was sure Morgan wasn't entirely responsible for that. when he said that he had not been allowed food at his foster families home she could have kicked herself she had been stupid not to think of that first. however long he had been on the streets he must have been hungry. "Stefan, I am so sorry, you must be starving. can I get you any food or anything drink?" she asked looking across the road to where there the three broomsticks stood they offered a wide range of foods. she was herself rather partial to their pizza, and the berry smoothies, and tea. when stefan said that his dad was dead she wasn't quite sure what to say. part of her wanted to say that that was a shame, as mo matter who a death wasn't a nice experience. the other part wanted to say good riddance he had it coming to him. in the end she came with a compromise with herself, more the first than the latter. "I am sorry to hear that:" she said leaving it open both ways. as the boy started crying again she put her arm around his shoulders once again and the first thing that came to mind to reassure him was lullaby that her grandmother used to sing to her when she was young. she started humming it soothingly before gently singing the words, she was not a singer,, and never claimed to be but you didn't need to be good at singing to sing a lullaby. "In Dublin's fair city, where girls are so pretty I fist set my eyes on sweet molly malone, As she wheeled her wheel-barrow, Through streets broad and narrow, Crying, 'Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!'" she sang softly swaying slightly to the song.

Out of Character:

My grandma used to sing that song to me as a lullaby. also I can once again take out the vision if you want me to. and once again sorry if it sucks.

 

[Stefan Archer]

The day that the teen had found himself at the mercy of the social worker had been a pretty awful day. His own health still no where near improved. Still grossly underweight and feeling more than a little lost had lead to a willingness to accept everything. He’d listened to what they’d said to him, but he’d been able to respond in a normal fashion, a small nod of the head. A whisper of understanding, but at the time Stefan Archer had just found himself too afraid to say anything. He didn’t want to make any of the adults around him angry, but in all that time Stefan had just wanted to go home. He just had remind himself he had no home. Much like this right then. Stefan wanted to go home, he wanted to feel the security of his home. He wanted to be able to go back to somewhere he knew. Somewhere that held history, good or bad. It just wasn’t really his fault that this appeared to be the place where everything had been awful. Stefan just wanted to be somewhere familiar. Somewhere he knew. School was hardly an option, he’d left, he’d decided to leave and never look back. He’d not known how to deal with everything their. The emotions he’d begun feeling had been too much. He hadn’t been able to keep things under his strict and usual control. Stefan had never been great at dealing with emotions, but he’d always managed to get by without breaking down. Things had just come to head, his emotions had all rushed at once, at it had panicked the teen. His running hadn’t been the healthy option, but it was the he’d chosen. It would always be the one he would choose. If things got to be too much, his first instinct was turn and run. The slight problem now was that he had nothing really to run to. Nowhere left to go. No one left to turn to. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of other family members. In his eyes, he was the last Archer. The last of his family. But, his family existed. He had grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. There was just none of them that knew he existed. It wasn’t easy, both sides knew not of the other, and all contact had ceased years, and years before. Neither side would ever know. The idea of family was just something Stefan had accepted he’d never have. Much like the idea of a normal life, or the acceptance of his life being a stream of very bad luck. Nothing could be done about it. Always people in it for the money. Which was why he didn’t want anything to do with that kind of system. When he thought about it, he’d been told he would be treated how he was meant to be treated, and in a way he was. The way he’d long thought he’d meant to be treated. His father’s words of him being a lesser human echoed with this family. The family hadn’t even known about him being colourblind, if they had they hadn’t cared. Stefan had tried his hardest to make it work with the family, desperate to not have a repeat of events with his father, but it had been pointless. He was sure had the family lived in a house with a garden, instead of just an apartment he would’ve been made to sleep outside, and even his own father had never done that. It was a little extreme thinking but the former slytherin wouldn’t have put it past them.

When the woman asked if he was hungry, of course he was, but he was left, with did he want to be left alone, or did he want to eat. The question that lingered on his lips. He was hungry but he’d been so alone, felt so lonely, so lost, now someone was here he wasn’t quite ready for them all to leave. He didn’t want to be left alone. It was odd, Stefan had never been the kind of guy desperate for company. He’d always managed, but it appeared now he didn’t want to. That there and then he wanted someone to stay by his side. If Stefan was honest, he didn’t know how much longer he had and he was pretty thankful to be finally tell someone, a little of the horror’s he’d faced in his mere sixteen years of life. Sure, the woman didn’t look much older than he was, but in a sense, Stefan’s continuous bad luck and horrible things always made him appear a lot older than he was. Battle worn, at most. ”Please don’t go.” Stefan muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, unable to keep the pleading tone out of his voice. He could almost hear his father mocking the tone he’d used, but Stefan was desperate. Not like he’d ever been before. For once instead of saying nothing, or forcing a lie, he admitted what he believed he needed, as self-centered as it sounded. He didn’t want to say that he was starving, that he was in pain, because of how hungry he was. He knew if he did, the woman would leave, go to the food place and probably not come back. People did that. He could see her processing the news of his father’s death. How did someone who knew only the worst parts of a man life say to his death? Stefan Archer wasn’t proud of it, but he missed his father he missed him. Stefan was still convinced that his father was a good man, who’d gone through a rough part in his life. Rightly so, no matter how badly his father had treated him at the end of the day the two had been blood related, and it had been the only person Stefan had left. Now he had no one. Stefan was right about his father as well, before the age of two, before his mother had died, Stefan’s father had been the perfect father. Struggling in areas, but dealing with it well enough. Stefan’s mother had sort of lost it after Stefan had been born. He didn’t remember it, he had been too young at the time to have any vague recollections of it. Those memories of his father didn’t exist, and yet a part of Stefan had always believed that they had. ”You’re not. But, thanks. No matter what he did to me, he was still my dad at the end of the day. He could’ve left, and he never did.” Stefan was almost trying to justify his father, almost saying that it could’ve been worse. But it was true, his father could’ve left, and Stefan wouldn’t have died a long time before. ”My dad wasn’t a bad person, it was just rough patch he never got over, I was just the side effect of it.” Stefan stated as if his life was only made so he could be their whenever his father got angry. Stefan sighed slightly, letting more tears slip down his face. There was no changing what had happened. There was no forgetting, he just had continue on. Until life won. This time Stefan didn’t pull away from the arm, only tensing slightly at the contact. He closed his eyes as she began humming, knowing not that it was something his father had often done.

At around 14 months, Stefan Archer had been a normal, healthy weight baby, with rosy cheeks, bright blue eyes and a smile to light up the world. He was a tiny little thing, with a small but growing mop of hair on his head. At 14 months things were pretty simple, but for his father things were less simple. In their small home, his wife, had gone off in one of her tantrums. Screaming about how they should just leave Stefan in the house and get on with their lives. How he would always hold them back, and be the source of their misery. Stefan’s father, Mason, had always promised that he wouldn’t ever do that. He couldn’t, the boy was almost a replica of himself. The doctors saying that they had the exact same bright blue eyes, and dark hair. His son would not be left to fend for himself. Mason was holding Stefan closely, the young boy obvious to the screams in the kitchen below them. Stefan had been having trouble going to sleep as of late, Mason had no idea what to do. He himself had just turned nineteen. He had no idea how to deal with his wife, or how to get his young son to sleep. But, as he held Stefan staring into the eyes that appeared grey to him, he was reminded of his own mother. Whenever his own father had ever been in any form of rage, his mother had held him tight and sung an old lullaby. A gaelic lullaby, she’d been Scottish, but gavin moved to America at the age of twelve had little accent and remembered little. But, Mason always remembered the lullaby. So, despite not having a great accent sung to Stefan, repeating the song over and over, continuing to sing until the noise downstairs had stopped and Stefan had been sound asleep.

Stefan didn’t remember that at all, but if ever he heard the song, or the tune there was an odd familiarity to it. An odd way in which he was sure that he knew it, but was never able to say where from or how. It was just one tiny details, that he had no way of knowing what they meant. Stefan’s and his father were much more alike than Stefan would ever know. But, it would always be there. That at least in the beginning, Stefan’s life had not been a complete shambles. Stefan felt his eyes droop closed as she sang. He didn’t want to fall asleep, but he could feel it happening. He could feel himself drift off into sleep. He just didn’t want to fall asleep. What if the nightmares continued? Where was he meant to sleep. He couldn't just sleep on the park bench and he couldn’t do that. There was no telling the kind of people that lingered around late at night. He had to find a place for himself to sleep that was protected. It just wasn’t anywhere where he was currently. However the former Slytherin was very tired. He leaned against Elvera slightly and wasn’t even aware when he drifted off to sleep, more or less passing out against the woman he’d only met once before that meeting. He was quickly unaware of the world around them. He’d been too exhausted to fight it any longer. He’d fallen into some long awaited deep sleep.


Don’t worry about it, and nothing needs to be taken out. ​

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[Professor Elvera Le Fey]

Elvera heard stefan say not to go and she settled back in the seat not realising that she was moving forward to get ready to go somewhere to get food until then. "Okay. If you rather me to stay then i will" she said. she didn't want to leave him as she felt some kind of bond with him, a sort of duty of care. she thought that if she left him then he may vanish, or get hurt more than he already was. Elvera realised that she hadn't sounded convincing when she said that she was sorry to hear about his farther. she was sorry, a life was a life was a life at the end of the day, he had been someones farther, someones son, someones partner. but even so she just wasn't sure what else she could have said. All this talk on fathers made the young professor think about hers. What had arthur been like? where was he now? was he even alive? what would she do if she ever met him? these questions she didn't have answers for. had he even known about her and her sisters? she doubted it, the way morgan had told the sorry it had been a one night reunion of teenage lovers. she sighed lightly at these thoughts. one thing she was sure of was that she was glad that he had left morgan if the alternative would have been abuse, but she was also a little mad at him for not being there for her when she needed someone, though if her hunch about him not knowing about them was right it seemed unlikely that he would not know about Edens "death" "I don't think many people are truly bad people. mast bad people are good people who bad things have happened to and they have gone about coping with it the wrong way" she said. Of course, like all things, there was always exceptions, but as a general rule she believed herself to be right.
As she hummed the song before her eyes she saw a young man appeared. He was holding a infant in his arms and holding it close. "She was a fishmonger and sure it was no wonder For so were her father and mother before" she continued as the man gently rocked the child, it was a funny vision, (as she knew that that is what it was) as firstly her whole world wasn't taken over by it, it was just the man and the child, so close if she knew that it wasn't a vision she would have sworn that she would just be able to touch them. "And they both wheeled their barrows through streets broad and narrow Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!" another odd thing about it was that she couldn't tell if it was the future or past. the man could be a future stefan, healthy looking but seemingly slightly concerned about something, or the child could be sleeping peacefully in his arms. She was trying to work out what this vision was that she didn't realise that Stefan was starting to fall asleep. she seemed like she was doing too good a job as trying to calm and relax him. by now she had finished the song. she moved slightly trying to get into a more comfortable position. she hoped that he wasn't too deeply asleep. as she stopped the singing and spoke softly. "stefan. Do you want me to take you somewhere where i promise you will be able to sleep on a proper bed and not a bench?" she said just a little louder than a whisper as she didn't want to disturb him if he was asleep, but she couldn't leave him here in the cold on an uncomfortable bench after what he had told her, that wouldn't be right at all.

 

[Stefan Archer]

Rather glad for the company of someone the former slytherin had little to say on the matter. How he could've let his life spiral in some much of a sense. He had always prided himself on making the right decisions, on trying to see sense when pain, and misery clouded his vision. This decision, the one he'd made in leaving school had been more impulsive that the teen was ever used to. Sure, most would claim that in reality it really wasn't that impulsive, he'd spent weeks thinking on it. Just things had escalted in a way that he couldn't have predicted. So much so that he was finding himself on a bench four months later feeling like the entire world was caving in. He didn't have a very good start in it all. He was just a teenage boy with nothing to begin with. He had the backpack now sitting beside him and very, very little money. Despite both of his parents being dead, he still had nothing. Somehow his father hadn't managed to keep any money aside. Which always left Stefan to ponder on what money they'd been living of off. Sure, it explained the decrease of money following time, but Stefan had always been convinced that his father had been doing work on the side. It just hadn't been true. He'd never gotten any money, just from school to buy supplies. Money that was completely useless in the muggle world. Which had been the problem when he'd first gone. Stefan Archer was thin, he didn't eat much to begin, so he didn't have that on his side. He had to avoid some of the brighter days due to his own eyesight. He'd spent a lot time running away. He had stories to tell, but all the stories were marred by the hunger that Stefan had felt during them. Because finding a place to sleep, or a place to protected oneself from the rain were simple enough, but finding edible food was a whole different issue. He had taken food with him, but his rationing had resembled how he'd eaten at home, which wasn't much. All in all, he'd not really thought it through, and this was the end of it for him. He didn't know much longer he could last. It was only a matter of time, but the freedom he felt was like nothing else. Having been held back the entire sixteen years of his life it was nice to finally be able to breath the fresh air of the day or night. His father had always been pretty adament that if he'd done anything really terrible the punishment would've been sleeping outside. but out of all his father's many threats, it was the one that Stefan had always trouble believe. He masked it in the sense that sleeping in the house was a reward for behaving. For doing something good during the day, or just to show how generous his father could be, but Stefan knew his father would never leave him out intentionally. Even if he always talked of him as a lesser person. An animal that didn't deserve the same things as human.

The song the woman was singing to him made him feel comfortable. In a way that he'd never felt before. He wondered what it would've been like if his mother had lived. If she hadn't died. He wondered if he'd be in a similiar position or if his life would much greatly resemble Kate's and Sara's, without the wealth. He didn't know his mother, he didn't have any memories of her. He didn't even know what she looked like. She had died when he'd been so young, and his father had gotten rid of all the pictures that he could've had of her. Stefan had very little that belonged to his mother. In fact, he was sure that now he had nothing left that had apparently belonged to his mother. The house he and his father had lived in was the only connection. Stefan was sure that if he wanted to know about his parents and where they were from it would be a good place to start. He just didn't know how to get there, he didn't know if the place would be for sale, or anything about the place. Who would want to have bought a place like that. It was old, run down, in desperate need of huge repairs, and there were many, many dried in blood stains in the carpets. Plus, Stefan couldn't help but imagine that if anyone knew what had gone on in the house then few would feel the desire to go within two feet of the place. Lives had been destroyed because of the house. A family had been shattered, no one would want a place like that. Stefan's world might've been very different if his family had been whole. He might still be at school, he might be doing a lot better in the classes. His worries might encompass girlfriends and friends, homework and being popular. Instead of worrying of when he'd next eat, of if he was doing something quietly enough so he wouldn't get hit for being too loud, of worrying if the next time his father or legal guardian beat the crap out of him if he'd live to tell the tale. It could've been a very different life. It was almost good in way that Stefan didn't know anything about his mother. That his father had never spoken of her. She might've once just been a perfectly normal person, but having a baby at eighteen had been hard on her in a way that had completely destroyed her hoped and dreams. She'd initially been worse. She'd at times refused to hold Stefan, to feed him, to get him to stop crying. She hadn't cared, she wanted the nightmare of them being parents to be over. It was too much for them to handle. The were just kids themselves, and both had been hugely talented. Stefan would never know that. Much in the same way that he'd never know that his mother, the one he missed a lot, the one he asked for guidance from was really the catalyst for all the events that had followed.

It was just a day after Stefan's second birthday. He'd slept soundly due to a slight sugar overdose curtesy of Mason Archer. Who'd been the won to even celebrate the young child's birthday. It was an important year. Stefan had grown quite a bit. Still small, but growing. He was slightly on the thin side, but he looked healthy. The bright eyes of the boy showing a happiness. The attention he got from his father was never ending. It was great. Stefan had even received his first gift, a small pendant, gold with a small heart. It hadn't been bought, it belonging to Stefan's father, It was an odd gift to give a two year old, but, it was an Archer heirloom. It was old. It didn't look old, it look worn and not worth much at all. It was simple as far as heirlooms could be. Later when Stefan was older, his father would tell him that it had belonged to his mother, and she'd been given it by her mother. It was in a sense true, it was just the other side of the family tree. The next day, as the young boy slept, the adults were arguing, as they did almost everyday. "We are not leaving him." Mason was yelling. "He's two. How could you think of doing such a thing? He's your son." There was a slight pause, a sharp intake of breath.
"Mason, we have our entire lives ahead of us, we don't need the kid. It's holding us back. What's he going to amount to anyway Mason? Huh, did you think of that?" Chloe, Stefan's mother said her voice a lot calmer than his. "He's colourblind just like you. We have no money, we live miles away from schools. He's got no chance. Better cutting our ties their and just leaving."
"He's two years old, Chloe! How can you say things like that. Have you actually look at our child recently? Remembered that he's a f##king child. If we leave him, he dies. End of. We'd have to live with that, forever. I can't do that, Chloe, you might but I can't." Mason said with more calm than he felt.
"So what if he dies Mason, it's what we should've done in the first place. Then we wouldn't even be in this mess. This mess is your f##king fault. We could be gone before he even wakes up." Chloe was almost pleading with Mason. She didn't want to go without him. She needed him to go with her. They were married after all and that's what she believed married people had to do.
"I am not leaving Stefan. I am not leaving him here alone, so, either you accept him as your son, and look after him properly or you can just go. You can get the hell out of here and never come back"


Stefan had slept through that entire conversation when it had occurred. His mother had been less than happy about it. It was the same day she died, since she had always wanted Mason and not Stefan and Mason had chosen Stefan over her. Stefan had no idea about that. As far as he was aware his mother had killed herself, and that was all he knew, that and his father blamed him for it. Though Stefan had never understood how it could've possibly been his fault. How he as a two year old could've done, or lead someone to such a state. The singing stopped, and this caused Stefan to stir slightly. Elvera started speaking. He opened his eyes more, and pushed himself slightly away so he'd been sitting slightly less in a position where he'd end up in even more pain. He just stared at the woman, his expression blank. Was this woman offering him a place to stay, or was she still going to hand him over to the social services people. He wanted to go with her, he trusted her more than he trusted anyone else. He wanted her to be someone who'd help him and not just turn him over to someone else. Or vanish when he got difficult. Because he might be more willing their in that moment than he would be the next day. After a goodnight's rest. "Yeah. Please." Stefan picked up his bag from beside him. He leaned forward in the bench and then stood up. The sudden weight on his very sore feet was almost not enough for him to take. He stumbled, and the apparent sudden change caused the entire world to shift and tilt side ways. Stefan had been more tired than he'd thought, he'd been exhausted. And the pain was too much. He passed out, remembering standing and then a slight stumble and nothing else.
​

 

[Professor Elvera Le Fey]

Elvera was glad that stefan stirred and said he would like to go somewhere else. It made t an easier decision for her. she was just about to ask him if her had ever apparated before as she lived on the south Island with her mother and the quickest way back would be apparation, or if not heading back to madam puddifoots and using floo powder, but that always made elvera want to sneeze, and it would cause her white dress to be covered in Ash. however before she could speak stefan was already standing up and picking up his bag. Elvera followed his head picking up her small handbag and empty shopping bag. she looked at Stefan just in time to see him stumble and fall, and managed to attach him before he went all the way down. "Are you okay there" she asked him before she realised that he had passed out. changing her hold on him she managed to take the backpack and support him. before managing to hold her wand and turn on the spot.

Out of Character:

this topic is continued here: a bed and some warm food