Close to the Edge

[Aethlinde Arlett]

Aethlinde Arlett had been needing to get away from the castle for a while now. She had not been able to though. Not with all the classes and the hassle that has been going on within the castle. It had been quite the plan of hers to actually find a spot to be able to draw peacefully and actually be able to draw something that was quite worth it. She wanted to draw a nice view and she had been planning to go to the cliffs for a good while now. She had heard that the cliffs offered something that would be quite nice to sketch and she was actually hoping to be able to color whatever she'd be able to draw as well. And so, on a nice particular weekend, Aethlinde had dressed up in a pair of jeans and a baggy sweater to go along with her flats. It wasn't that she was cold really, it was more of the fact that she really didn't have anything that was appropriate for climbing. And she didn't want a repeat of the numerous scrapes she had gotten when she had tried climbing a tree. This one was more dangerous.

As soon as the young Hufflepuff had gotten out of the castle, she adjusted her bag slung around her shoulder before making the trek up to the cliffs. She was having a bit of trouble between a couple of slips here and there but she was managing nonetheless. It took her quite a while to get to the top of the cliffs but when she did, she had gotten quite excited and had quickly sat down a few meter from the edge and began to bring out her sketchpad and pencils. Well, it was certainly a nice scene to draw that was for sure. She would be able to stay there for hours and wouldn't really mind. Missing lunch would be worth it if she could finish the sketch at least. This was too much of a good opportunity to waste after all. And with that, she lost herself in her drawing.
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[Stella Lagowski]

There had to be a way out of this hell hole. Occasionally, with enough time and perseverance, situations that Stella once loathed had become tolerable at the very least. Acting hadn't always been the Hufflepuff's passion; the early mornings and long hours of work were exhausting for a girl of such a young age. But unlike Hollywood, life at Hogwarts seemed to grow more and more depressing the longer Stella was there. She'd have needed a third hand to count the number of times she'd tried to get herself expelled, yet still here she was.

The sandy haired girl kicked a stray rock and watched it bounce across the lawn. Going back inside the castle wasn't an option - not now classes had been dismissed and notorious bullies were loitering in the halls. Even with her head kept down it was impossible for Stella to walk the length of a corridor without insults being hissed at her. She hadn't helped her situation by becoming one of the bullies herself. Not only did a good portion of the school hate her, the rest now cowered in her presence. Perhaps, had she had a real friend in the castle, her life wouldn't have been quite so miserable. Unfortunately, the only two kids in the entire school who were willing to talk to her were her irritating twin cousins.

The sight of a dozen students pouring from the castle doors sent Stella hurrying across the grounds. She passed the lake where she'd last seen Avie and kept on walking, losing all sense of direction until a familiar view crept into sight. The cliffs. How could she have forgotten? She'd found them long ago during her very first week of school, and for some reason had never returned. She began to climb the grassy bank, her optimism only faltering when she reached the top and discovered that she wasn't alone. Instantly on guard, Stella folded her arms across her ribs and approached the girl from the side. Aethlinde, she recalled, if her memory served her correctly. In another life, she might even have tried to befriend her. "Bit close to the edge, aren't you?" she said maliciously. Whilst she would never have dreamed of harming anyone, perhaps threats alone were enough to get herself kicked out.

 

[Aethlinde Arlett]

Aethlinde had gotten lost in her sketching like she always does when she gets down to her task with a pencil and paper. Her pencil was making fast and slow strokes, sometimes alternating between furious and gentle movements. Her green orbs alternated between looking at the view and at the sketchpad that she had. Her blonde hair was framing her face and sometimes tangling themselves in her arm or landing upon her drawing, but she couldn't care any less. She was used to it getting in the way, or more like, acting as a curtain between herself and the world. She preferred it this way after all. Her hands were quick to change between different pencils whenever she needed to as to accommodate the finer details of the sketch she was producing. She wanted to do the breathtaking view some justice after all. She didn't want it to be only partly done. She was lost to the world when she was sketching and so she had not noticed when another presence had joined her up in the cliffs.

Aethlinde nearly jumped in surprise though she did release a small squeak at the sudden voice that had come. She had quickly closed her sketchbook and scrambled to grab her bag and her pencils that were scattered all around her. In her haste however, one of her pencils had flown out of her hand and rolled over to the cliff's edge and fell into the abyss. She let out an inaudible whimper at the loss of one of her art materials despite having at least two more of the same pencil up in her dorm. But then again, it was such a waste. And just when she was nearly done too. Maybe she could accio it back to her. But she couldn't even do other spells properly, what's to say she won't fail that one as well. The Russian was at a loss for what to do. She wanted her pencil back, she wanted to continue her sketching as to not waste the good view the cliffs offered at the moment, she believed after all that nature would never really be the same in two different times. Once you let go of an opportunity, it was over. And she didn't want to leave this sketch undone. But the malicious tone of this female was making it hard for her to stay where she was. Maybe she could just wait for her to leave. Clutching her sketchbook close to her chest, Aethlinde kept her head down, her hair covering most of her features, as she waited, hoped and prayed silently for this girl to leave. She just really, really wanted to finish her sketch.
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[Stella Lagowski]

Stella watched as Aethlinde scrabbled for her pencils. She moved, but rather than lunging to save one from rolling off the edge, she kicked at another, sending it flying into the depths below. "Careless," she spat, bending down to prise a particularly sharp one from the soil and brush off the caked dirt. Her look of contempt was enfeebled by its lack of witnesses. Aethlinde was either too afraid or too rude to look at her.

Irritated, Stella took the pencil in both hands and snapped it in the middle. The crack, whilst quiet, resonated across the otherwise silent cliffs. She was hardly surprised not to feel any remorse for her actions. The days of guilt and shamefulness over being a bully had long since drifted into the past. To begin with, every callous word and soulless deed she committed had hung over her like a black cloud. Now, indifferent to the feelings by repetition, being unkind was almost habitual. Thinking about it for too long would undoubtedly have ended in self-condemnation, so she shunned any thoughts on the matter aside before they could take hold of her. Giving up would do no good now. She was still being bullied relentlessly herself. How Jakobe would have gloated to hear that Stella didn't even have the guts to snap a girl's pencil in two.

"Are you even listening to me?" she snapped, her brown eyes glinting wildly. "Take your stupid sketch somewhere else. You can't draw for sh*t anyway." That wasn't exactly true. Stella had only caught a glimpse of Aethlinde's sketch, but it was certainly beyond her own capability. Still, Stella was an actress, and faking her way through things almost came more naturally than breathing. Besides, she had to get rid of her. The cliffs were quite possibly the only place left on the entire grounds that Stella's bullies didn't know where to find her, and she wasn't giving it up that easily.

 

[Havoc Zhefarovich]

There was one thing that Havoc Zhefarovich was good at, and it was hiding whle watching those that he was destined to protect, even though he just did it for the hell of it. However, as he watched Aethlinde from a distance, she was sketching, something didn't seem right. No, there was this other Hufflepuff girl. Havoc watched Aethlinde's body moments, and it all became clear. This other girl was bullying Aethlinde. Narrowing his purple eyes, he silently stalked up the cliffs, approaching the Hufflepuff from behind. Was there no appreciation for art nowadays? Even torturing and creating fear in someone was a work of art, and this girl had no talent for it. And her bullying was not exactly smart. Even the members of his family now stayed away from Aethlinde, despite her run in with Valdimir. Now, he would have to protect her from those that would want to do her harm, that was not his family. He heard her words, "Take your stupid sketch somewhere else. You can't draw for sh*t anyway." That sparked a great sense of displeasure within his body. He would have felt rage, but he contained it.

He stood behind her for a few seconds, before he reached out and grabbed the girl's shoulder, forcing her to turn around and then resting his hand on the top of her head. Havoc's purple eyes darted to hers dangerously, as his true personality, the one he hid for so long, slipped out for a moment. "Lay a finger or utter a syllable to her, and you'll go off the cliffs here and now. I'm sure you heard of what Chaos did. And he isn't as smart as I am." He removed his hand from her head, and used his strength to shove her by the shoulder away from Aethlinde, and himself. He took a couple of steps toward her, and cracked his knuckles. "Now go if you know what's good for you." Havoc looked absolutely beastly right now, using the same type of method that he used when he scarred Emily. Although he let his cover slip, perhaps it was time that some people knew that Chaos was not the worst thing that walked the school.​

 

[Aethlinde Arlett]

Aethlinde didn't know what to do when she had seen another pencil of hers get kicked out of the cliffs and down to the depths. She had nearly moved from her spot to try and catch it. Prevent it from being lost. But it was too late and she was stuck in her spot, clutching her textbook tighter as she was near tears from what is currently transpiring. First her sketchbook was burned last year, and now her pencils were being thrown off the cliff? She had not done anything wrong to anyone had she? And then she heard it. An audible crack that made her whimper and flinch as if she was in physical pain. She knew what that sound was all too well. It was not the first time someone had snapped her pencils in anger. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please stop. I'm sorry," the small girl whimpered out as tears had already escaped her eyes as she adjusted her position. Her knees now in front of her as she just wanted to curl up into a ball.

Aethlinde had not noticed the arrival of a familiar student all too well as she was reduced to a crying ball of mess as she clutched her sketchbook tightly, her knees close to her body and her forehead resting on top of them while her hair covered her crying features from the word as she whimpered out apology after apology for something she may have done wrong. Her remaining pencils scattered around her and her camera in her bag lay forgotten in the midst of it all. She just wanted to do something right. To do something that she was good at. But apparently, everyone was set on making sure that she knew she absolutely had no talent. Everyone but Havoc.
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[Stella Lagowski]

A brief and unexpected sense of guilt rose from the depths of the cliffs and touched the edges of Stella's heart. With every desperate apology the young girl whimpered, the feeling swelled and grappled beneath her chest. For a moment, she saw herself for what she was. She saw Aethlinde, curled up and crying and begging her to stop. She saw the pained look on her Father's face when he heard what his precious daughter had done. She saw the blackened, jagged edges of the words poised on her tongue.

And then they disintegrated. Everything Stella had prepared herself to say fell silently from her mouth and was swept away by the passing breeze. Given a second longer, she might have turned and retreated to the castle. An apology of her own would have been unlikely, but Aethlinde would have needed only catch Stella's eye the next day to detect her remorse. But she didn't turn around. She was pulled around.

Half a gasp escaped Stella's parted lips. Her quick reactions and disciplined training were no match for the boy who faced her. His face was thunderous. His striking purple eyes were deep and swirling and hid an impending storm. If Stella cowered, she rose back up to her full height in time to be shoved a few paces away. She was igniting her own storm, and it rose from her clenched fists to her fiery cheeks. The guilt she'd felt only moments ago had morphed into fury. "You f*ing a*hole!" she screamed suddenly. "Who do you think you are? Don't you stand there and judge me with your self righteous bulls*t!" Tears spilled down her burning face. "Where were you when it was them bullying me?! You're as bad as the rest of them. Turn a blind eye because Stella's rubbish at everything and it'd be embarrassing to stand up for her!" The Hufflepuff unpinned her house badge from her robes with trembling fingers and threw it to the boy's feet. "You can stick your lousy school. I'm leaving." Dizzy and shaking with adrenaline, Stella spun on her heel to leave.

 

[Havoc Zhefarovich]

Havoc ignored the girl that was bullying his... Havoc didn't know what to call what Aethlinde meant to him. It wasn't minion because he was not using her. Havoc turned to see Aethlinde, a mess on the ground. A sight that was truly pathetic, but he said nothing. Instead, he heard the words of the younger Hufflepuff raise, and even said something about him being self righteous, which might have been true. Havoc himself felt nothing but anger as she continued, even ripping off her house badge and throwing it at his feet. Using his speed, he reached out and grabbed her by the robes, and forced her to face him. He knew all he wanted, and he was going to either help her, or mentally destroy her. It was the way she would take the words that he would say, before leaving her to her own pitiful destruction, if that happened. "You take time of your life to bully someone smaller than you, because you yourself have been bullied countless times? Delivering the pain you suffered through onto others is a sorry excuse for a witch. Imagine what she feels right now." Havoc paused for a moment. He had to word everything carefully.

"Perhaps no one has taken up for you, or helped you, because you have closed off everything and everyone, and not bothered making friends in the right places. It is by my deduction that is what happened, or else perhaps you should leave, if no one cares for you here." Havoc released his deathly grip, before deciding that he was done. He bent down and grabbed the house badge, before forcing it into her hand once more. "Stay or go. No one will miss you here, especially with an attitude like that." Havoc was almost like he was chastising her like a father would to a daughter. However, if she touched Aethlinde, Havoc would tear her apart. He walked to Aethlinde, and scooped her into his arms, before standing up. Sketchbook and all. He looked down to see the broken pencils. "Would you like to go to Brightstone with me, and I'll replace your broken pencils."​

 

[Stella Lagowski]

Though Stella hated to admit it, the Gryffindor was right. Her face twitched nervously as he breathed the words into her face. Some of them were almost lost under the heavy thudding of her heart, but the message was clear. This was Stella's fault. The acknowledgement did little to make her feel better. If anything, her heart sunk further than it had ever done its life. No matter how hopeless she felt, being the victim of bullying did not justify her handing out the same misery to those around her. She wouldn't even have been in this position if she'd taken the trouble to make some friends.

Stella was at a complete loss. Back home, she was adored wherever she went. Her talent was envied by millions, and even when she slipped up, she could do no wrong. Contrariwise, at Hogwarts, she was loathed, feared, and ignored by the entirety of the school's population. Professors tolerated her mediocre magical abilities. Students mocked it. The rest didn't care. So who was she supposed to make friends with?

Her robes and a tear were released simultaneously, and she stumbled backwards a step in surprise. She regarded the boy and his stormy purple eyes. The Hufflepuff pin burned her hand. Whether his intention had been to help or hinder her, he'd brought clarity to a difficult decision she'd been brooding over for months. This was no place for Stella. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, and though the words were directed at the Gyrffindor, they were meant for Aethlinde alone. Before Stella could catch another glimpse of the shivering wreck she'd turned the girl into, she walked away, her legs as numb as her heart.

 

[Aethlinde Arlett]

Aethlinde had no idea what was going on around her. All she knew was there was that there was shouting going on, but who was shouting she didn't care to find out. Especially not if it was directed at her. She just really wanted everyone to ignore her. Ignore her very presence because she really didn't want to cause anyone trouble. She knew all too well that her magical capabilities were mediocre at best, she couldn't compare to anyone in her family, nor could she charm anyone. She was a failure. She knew that all too well, but she didn't want anyone to actually scream it to her. To actually berate her. Because she knew it all too well.

Aethlinde was taken by surprise when she was suddenly lifted from her position only to face Havoc. She never wanted him to see her like this. "I... I'm sorry," she whimpered out as she rubbed and wiped at her eyes and the tear tracks on her cheeks. She knew that she must look like an absolute wreck at the moment. Her eyes should be red and puffy and her hair a complete disaster and she didn't want him to see her like she was. A failure and a wreck. And then he offered to buy her pencils. She pursed her lip and shook her head. "I... I'll fix them. I... Have tape," she mumbled as she tried to get away from him. He didn't need to get involved with her. He didn't need her to mess up his life or anyone else's. She wanted him to be happy, or at least something near that, and he couldn't get that with her lingering near him. She didn't deserve his friendship. Nor did he deserve to be with a complete utter failure like her.
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