Beauty in Darkness

Satchel Howard

Well-Known Member
Messages
77
OOC First Name
Maia
Wand
Curly 8 Inch Flexible Beech Wand with Essence of Belladonna Core
Age
9/2032
Satchel had discovered the Hogwarts garden a few weeks before, it was an area none of his family had mentioned when speaking about the castle, unsurprisingly. They were people built for darkness and secrets, beauty and light were foreign to them. Satchel, however, was appreciative of both. He'd spent the last few weeks contemplating a rose, trying to capture it o paper. Accuracy was beyond him, and he knew this, but the eleven year old was anything but a quitter, and he was determined to try. Each attempt would start well, but ultimately fail when he got to far into his admiration to remember to pay attention to what he was looking at. He could see beauty, but couldn't replicate it, or capture it. Every now and then he considered photography, but the peace drawing gave him was worth more than results. In a loud house, it was a refuge, and a comfort. Some of his earliest memories were sketching on bits of used paper on his father's office floor.

The day wasn't quite as bright and sunny as the last few had been, which was playing havoc with his shading. Shading was always a difficult aspect of sketching for him. The young Gryffindor was slow to become irritated, patience being a virtue with his family, but his own shortcomings were at time a trial to him at times. Gentle with his eraser, he started over on the same petal he'd been working on for the past half hour. Perfection was something to strive for, even though he knew he hadn't the talent to achieve it. Honesty wasn't necessarily a core aspect of Satchel's personality; secrecy was needed when one was a Howard, but he was always honest with himself. How could he not be when the opinions of his family were so distorted. They thought him weak because he wasn't violent or harsh. His father thought he needed to be minded, and he felt as though his mother didn't particularly like him. His cousin Sybil seemed to think he was some sort of evil genius, when in reality his schemes were only borne out of a wish for the family to survive and not destroy itself. Around him, he could hear birdsong, and little nature sounds, but for now, he was absorbed in a single yellow rose.
 
Remy was determined to find the tallest, strongest and most unique tree on the school grounds for no other reason that to climb it, and an obstacle as insignificant as an overcast day wasn't about to stop him. In fact it only made him want to go outside more to make the most of the weather before it became too cold for him to explore. The week so far had been bright and sunny, the calm before the storm in a sense and Remy assumed rain would soon follow, keeping him cooped up inside, unable to complete his mission. This only confirmed his belief that exploring the grounds that day was worth it and aided in his determination as he left the castle with a bright smile on his face.

He walked confidently through the great lawn, eyeing up each tree he saw and then dismissing them, eventually following a path towards the gardens. A place doted with flowers and made to be looked at instead of played with wasn't something that would usually capture Remy's interest. But that day, and with his goal in mind he ventured in, thinking no harm would come of simply looking around and taking in the surroundings. As he continued to walk, he noticed a boy nearby that appeared to be consumed in the task of drawing something. Remy approached them, leaning slightly over their shoulder and asking "Whatya drawing?" curiously.​
 
Satchel's silly, useless hand simply refused to do what his mind told it to. It was always slightly harsher or heavier than he needed it to be. He wasn't as talented as he wished he were, he simply wasn't. He was quite good at other things though. He was growing to really enjoy potions, which would no doubt please his father. Danton had hated school but his son was growing more and more interested. He'd completed all of his homework before coming outside today. He was contemplating writing a letter home that evening. The Howards weren't particularly affectionate, but Satchel's relationship with his Dad was a positive one. The same couldn't be said of his mother.

Another, human noise invaded the quiet he'd become accustomed to. not paying any heed to it, Danton continued to struggle with the rose until a clear voice sounded. Taking a moment to blink and acknowledge the question, Satchel turned to the newcomer with a small smile. "A rose, but not very well," Clearly not well if the boy hadn't been able to tell what it was. "That one." He pointed clearly at the yellow rose which had been occupying him. "I can't get the petals right, I've been trying for weeks. My name is Satchel Howard." Satchel, while not particularly friendly, was always polite. Standing, his notebook still in hand, he stretched out his right hand to shake the other boys, as he'd been taught was correct.
 

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