Forgotten Fairytales

Avie Mitchell

peter pan
 
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OOC First Name
Emzies
Sexual Orientation
Rocks
Wand
Mahogany Wand 14 Essence of Unicorn Hair
There was a small growing sense of frustration within the Slytherin teen who sat with a book open in front of him on the comfy sofa in the student lounge, his legs out in front of him and Rockie sitting on the edge of the page of the book, the book was one he'd gotten, a birthday present from Esme, a copy of an old book of fairytales which had reminded the boy of his mother's stories. The boy had therefore been so excited to read it, he had been working so hard on his reading recently and had managed an entire three sentences of one of his textbooks with relatively low difficulty and a little help and nudging from the muggle studies professor, but really with this book in front of him and just Rockie reading with him he had absolutely no hope of getting it. No matter how hard Avie was trying reading those words was just not coming to him, the teen had wanted to read the stories which reminded him of his mother and the time she had used to spend with him reading stories and he'd almost brought himself to tears, in his frustration, thinking he'd been doing so well and then here and now being completely unable to move forward, tears of frustration at his own lack of ability no matter what or how hard he tried.

Avie was sat underneath the bright lights of the room, the soft glow and warmth of the fire not aiding in his reading, but he no matter how much he wanted to leave the room for the comfort of the dorm where no one could see his struggle the boy seemed rooted to the spot, frustrated and just unable to move himself despite the bubbling tears. He was rubbing his eyes every few minutes with the sleeve of his Slytherin jumper an unhappy and annoyed expression on his face as he attempted to read the story, the boy had really wanted to be able to do this and he just didn't, couldn't. The teen had been trying so hard but tears filled his eyes as he hopelessly tried to read again speaking out loud, and stumbling over the words, not understanding what some of them were and just generally confusing himself with it. He had enjoyed the pictures and had happily looked at all the pictures, excitedly laughing at the different little animations but this was different he just couldn't read, he just tried and he just got annoyed and wanted to just cry, which he was almost, he didn't want to go get Lucien or Esme to read it to him, since he knew they were both busy studying for the OWLs or in Lucien's case with his girlfriend and as much as Avie had grown to really like her he was sure that Lucien wouldn't want to spend time reading to him when he had his girlfriend to do that horrible kissing that that he seemed to enjoy. He thought about going to Jean with it, but he didn't think Jean would want to either, he didn't want to force them to helping him read this book, the teen knew partly that he asked so much of them already but Avie thought the world of them, he loved Lucien unconditionally but like with the hugs Avie loved giving people he knew to be respectful of his friend, even if he barely understood why, and Esme probably didn't want to ruin her image but being sweet to him out in a place where many people could see, and well really, Avie just didn't think Jean would, so he was left to muddle through on his own, the boy let out a small huff and wiped the frustrated tears away from his eyes and cheeks as he tried again.
 
Sitting alone in her dormitory, Esmè stared at the blank sheets of parchment lain out in front of her, the ink that coated the tip of her quill now dry from a lack of use. A few drops of it blotched the parchment she had meant to start writing on an hour ago, but other than that it had been relatively untouched. While she needed to prepare herself for the upcoming OWLs, she couldn't focus enough. Life had not been easy for her as of late, but she endured through it as best she could, trying not to think on the negatives she faced, as difficult as it was. From an outsiders perspective, she didn't have it so hard. The Slytherin girl been banned from Quidditch for the remainder of the year, missing a match that was ultimately lost without her, all due to almost blowing up a Gryffindor prefect with his dodgy muggle fireworks. With only the ban and some points deducted, she had it off easy, people might have thought, no doubt bitterly given that she wasn't the most approachable of students and got along with very few. But it wasn't so simple. Watching someone she cared deeply for die in front of her, and then seeing herself be murdered in an alternate future timeline brought with it a lot of stress and anxiety. It was hard to think about anything but what the future held for her and the girl was losing focus in her studies, falling behind in lessons and having to spend her free time putting additional work in to keep up with her classmates. Initially, the rare gift of sight she had received from her bloodline had been an exciting prospect and made her feel far more empowered, but now she viewed it as more of a curse. She didn't want to experience the visions she did, but she had no control until she underwent proper training.

Vulcan's cold, dead eyes stared at her in her mind's eye and the girl rose to her feet, trying to shake the image from her head. Being alone had not helped. She needed to be around people, anyone who could distract her if just for a while. Even a snot-nosed little first year bent on annoying her was better than being stuck with only her thoughts for company. The Slytherin pushed aside her studies for the time being and headed upstairs, intent on finding anyone, or anything to make her feel better. The first few floors contained nothing of interest, but she stopped at the fourth. The library and student lounge were both available and usually had a few students hanging about. The former however, was far too quiet, which was what the Slytherin needed to avoid. With that option removed, she headed for the lounge, hoping someone tolerable would be inside. She'd found Jakobe there on multiple occasions, though not all had been the friendliest of encounters. She'd eventually forgiven him for the kiss, but the memory still left her feeling disgusted.

A little hesitantly, Esmè pushed open the door to the Student Lounge and stepped inside, allowing it to swing softly shut behind her. The room was warm, lit by the crackling fireplace at the far end, and occupied by another student. She was relieved that it wasn't a group of irritable little first years as she'd been anticipating, but frowned as she got closer to the occupant. It was Avie, but not the usual, cheerful Avie she knew. He was holding the book she'd bought for him from Flourish and Blotts on his birthday, a simple collection of fairytales that she'd hoped would be easy for him to read and enjoy, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Did he hate her gift? It was admittedly child-oriented but even she knew that's essentially what her friend was. "Avie?" Esmè called out as slowly, she approached, forgetting her own troubles for the time being. "Are you alright?" When she'd found Jakobe crying here, she'd wanted nothing more than to turn around and get back out, but seeing Avie cry was like watching a puppy be abused.
 
There was nothing more frustrating in Avie's mind than being given something so amazing and just struggling so much to be able to even read it, the boy wanted nothing more than to just be able to read, to not have to struggle through each large word on the page like most of the kids in this school, the teen had really thought he'd moved forward in his reading, that he'd managed some progress because of the three lines of his textbook he'd managed with the Professor's help, but this was completely dashed by this book in front of him, any confidence he had built from it was gone, but because it was a gift from Esme rather than just chucking it like he might've otherwise done, he was trying his hardest, he was giving this his biggest effort and the biggest effort he was giving was bring tears to his eyes, causing him to sniffle as the snot gathered in his nose with the tears currently brimming in his eyes and falling slowly, he brushed them away with his hand, but it didn't really stop them coming, as long as he was struggling he was just going to continue pushing and trying but the back of his mind was telling him it was hopeless and that he should give up, and in giving up go do something else. Avie looked at Rockie who was at the edge of the book, looking up at Avie, the teen loved the gifts from Esme, along with the rock from Lucien they were his most prized possessions, from his vast collection of rocks those were just his absolute favourite things in the world, now he had a book to add the collection, but other than looking at the pictures the book currently served him no other purpose. As much as he was trying, the teen fully acknowledged in his mind that this was perhaps a battle he had lost, since the teen was crying over a book, crying in frustration and anger over himself, mentally complaining about his own idiocy which meant that he couldn't read this book, knowing in his mind that if his mother saw him like this she would've been just so disappointed, but the teen was trying his best and he could at least be happy that she had never known about his struggle with reading, or the extent with it.

The Slytherin prefect looked up as someone said his name, he glanced at them with tear filled eyes and obvious tear streaks marring cheeks and then just tried to smile at his friend, he wiped away his tears, brushing them away with the back of his hand trying his best to stop them from coming, the teen knew that Esme didn't mind being his friend at all, but he wasn't exactly eager to force his issues with this book upon her, it was a gift from her. During the period of time immediately after finding out about his mother's death, Avie had become closer with Lucien who had helped him through it, he'd still cried like crazy, but knowing his best friend was there had helped him so much, but he knew the closeness for Lucien was difficult and he was sure the same could be said for Esme, so he just wiped away the tears as they kept forming in his eyes, "I'm trying," he managed to utter pointing to the book, "Can you read it?" there was silent to me at the end of his question, as he held out the book to her, one hand still wiping away the tears and getting a pretty bad snot on his palm, "Please," he didn't know if she'd want to, so publicly where anyone could see her, but he just wanted to read the book. The teen just wanted to understand what everyone else understood when they looked at the pages of the book, he had tried his hardest, but Avie's reading skills would likely never match up to that of the rest of his year, or even most of the school, no matter how he tried, and this was all because no one had taken the time with him, like Professor Philips now was, like Ciro had, but it was really too late, whatever he learned he wouldn't learn in enough time to help him in life post-school, Avie didn't know what he wanted to do after school and the future seemed like a bleak road, where would he go? What life awaited him, when he couldn't even read a children's book, the teen just really wanted the book to be read to him by Esme (and if not her maybe by Lucien in the dorm later) and for things to feel okay for a little while.
 
The girl took a few more uncertain steps toward her friend before lowering herself down onto the couch beside him, one hand gently patting him on the shoulder. She'd gotten more experience dealing with crying friends in her time at the school than she'd have liked to admit, but she thought she was getting pretty good at it. Esmè didn't have too much of a reference for this kind of thing, what was too much or too little, but she mimicked what little she'd seen. In her household, no one cried openly, and other than a few of her friends, the only people she'd seen cry were the younger students, which had mostly been her fault. Well, their fault, really, but the product of her reaction. What she ensured to look out for was not letting the person she was consoling mistake it for affection, as Jakobe had when she attempted the same thing with him. He was lucky to get off with a minor hex. Avie on the other hand, she felt was too innocent and too...Avie to try make a similar move, which made the situation far more comfortable.

As she sat with the boy, he made it clear that he didn't hate the book, a stupid thought in retrospect, but simply couldn't read it. It was disheartening to see that even a simple children's fairytale had left the fifteen year old frustrated and in tears, and trying to understand what he was going through was something Esmè wasn't sure she was capable of. She didn't know how to help him, or if he could be helped by this point, but she was happy to at least try. After a brief glance toward the doorway, hoping now of all times that they'd be left in peace, she turned her attention to the book in front of them, one she'd loved reading as a child. What wizarding kid didn't grow up with Beedle the Bard? "Of course, Avie." She responded with a small smile, ceasing her, hopefully comforting, patting of his shoulder. "Just take some deep breaths first and calm down a bit. You don't want to get tears and snot all over the pages - or Rockie. Speaking of, can I just-" She started, pulling out a tissue from her side bag for the boy to wipe his hands and face with. She'd been tempted to just scourgify him clean; sobbing and snot absolutely disgusted her, even in small quantities. "I'll read aloud and you and Rockie can follow along." She suggested, hoping that maybe him hearing the words as they were read would help. She was unsure of what he'd tried, but had no idea what else to do. She wanted him to get better with his academics, otherwise he'd be no better than a squib and probably end up marrying a muggle, which she really did not want to be the case. She doubted Lucien would be too fond of it either. Though, it was hard to imagine Avie marrying anyone. "Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump was my favourite when I was little. My brother and I would read it all the time and act out some of the scenes. I could start with that if you'd like."
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Avie was definitely not sure that Esme would read to him, he didn't want to push the friendship too far, since he had to be honest and say that much like with Lucien he knew they cared a lot about what others thought of him, but he was asking her to do something exceedingly odd, and incredibly personal, and Avie wasn't sure how much she would like that, but Avie really wanted to understand even the slightest story from this book now in front of him. It was just so frustrating in his mind that he was working so hard and yet nothing was becoming of it. He had read a whole sentence the other day without struggle, with Professor Phillip's help, and yet it hadn't changed everything over night, which was why when Esme that she would he just barely resisted the urge to wrap his arms around the girl and hug her in thanks. The teen then just nodded and took the tissue from her and wiped his nose, sniffling deeply as he did so. He wiped the tears from his eyes which were now slowly, since a smile lingered wide on his face through the tears from the moment that Esme had agreed to do this for him, to do this with him. Avie's gaze was fixed on Esme's as she told him what she was doing and then told him which story, he leaned forward slightly and then looked to what she was pointing to.

Avie wiped his nose again, "Yes please," he said with a small smile as he did so, although this time forgetting about the tissue and just opting from his arm as she began to read, after a few moments he moved slightly closer to her and then put his head on her shoulder in an almost awkward manner given that Avie was no longer really small, but he managed alright, and at each twist and turn of the book Avie made noises of surprise and he laughed at every joke no matter how small. The tears ceased on his face and he was just so happy that she was reading to him, it reminded him so much of the time he used to spend with his mother and it made him really miss her and hate in a way that he had to rely on Esme to do this instead of her because she had left him. In a small pause in the story, Avie let out a small shaky breath as if he was trying his best to not cry but a smile sat on his face, "Thanks Esme," he muttered, snuggling closer into her, "This is the best present ever, after Rockie of course," the truth was that Avie loved celebrating his birthday on the actual day of his birth rather than as close to it as was possible, and his mother being gone had left him feeling dejected and this gift from Esme had just been so amazing, he had been so upset to not be able to enjoy it fully. He allowed Esme to continue reading, truly feeling something akin to sibling love for his friend, who despite her own issues and concerns seemed to not be too bothered with reading to him, he wished he would always be able to show Esme the same friendship and loyalty she showed him.
 
Esmè smiled as Avie rested against her and her fingertips flipped through the endless pages of the book in her lap. Her eyes scanned across the titles, many she hadn't read in years; The Wizard and the Hopping Pot was one of the first they passed over. The Slytherin had made sure to purchase the revised edition, wherein rather than the story being one of forced tolerance for non-magical neighbours, it instead told a tale of the pot protecting a wizard and devouring all of the muggle townsfolk until they begged for their lives. "This one is another of my favourites." She told the boy, pointing at the depictions of a one-legged pot chasing away torch-bearing men and women. She kept going, past the Fountain of Fair Fortune, the Warlock's Hairy Heart, and stopping only briefly to make a comment on one of the stories. Finally she found the classic tale of Babbitty Rabbitty and stopped her page-flipping. She rested her legs beside her on the couch and found a comfortable position, then took a breath, putting on her best story-telling voice, if she had any.</COLOR></SIZE>
"A long time ago, in a far-off land, there lived a foolish King who decided that he alone should have the power of magic..."

"...a cunning charlatan with no magical power saw a chance of enriching himself, and arrived at the palace, claiming to be a wizard of enormous skill."

"...He didn't not know that he was being watched by an old woman who lived in a hovel on the edge of the grounds."
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The girl reached a break and turned her attention to her friend, frowning as he took in a shaky breath. She bit her lip, hoping he wasn't going to cry again, or smear more snot on his clothes. She was trying her best to keep him happy, seeing him down only served to put her in a down mood, but his smile dashed her worries away. "Any time, Avie. I'm glad you like it. I wasn't sure, at first..." Shopping for her friends, or anyone else for that matter, was hard. Avie was one of the few she ever had a fair idea for, but she guessed simply handing him a pretty rock would suffice. Even then, she felt like he needed more than a simple rock. "I'm always happy to read to you whenever you need me to. You can come find me any time." She wouldn't have minded reading him a story or two from the book before lights out, perhaps if she could convince Lucien to join in too. The boy had a lot of problems, his reading, his mother's passing, and she wanted him to know that he always had someone there for him. Seeing him sitting alone in the lounge and crying was too heart-breaking to witness a second time. With a gentle squeeze of Avie's shoulder, the girl turned the page and resumed reading aloud, cheerfully drawing a close to the part where the muggle charlatan was dragged away to the dungeons for impersonating a wizard.
"..But as he raised the axe the charlatan fell to his knees, screaming for mercy and confessing all his wickdness."
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Avie was truly content to sit and listen to the story being told to him by Esme, it was a truly amazing story, and the way Esme told it to him made him feel so warm inside, he loved her, he loved Esme she was like a sister to him and he knew that this kind of thing was asking a lot of her, that asking her to do this for him, to sit and read it to him was likely the last thing she really wanted to do with a day like this, but he seflishly glad that she had. Avie felt a little left out at times, he spent a lot of time with Lucien and Bothizar and their little trio of trouble was always good fun, but with the two of them in somewhat committed relationships, Avie was just left not wanting for himself and just wanting to play, play outside in the lake, play with his rocks and play with the flowers, he had no interest in the love of others, and he didn't like girls or boys at all in that way, and he felt left out because he understood they had to spend time with them, but he wanted the time to be spent with him, or all together doing things they could all do. But, Avie just focused on Esme, listening to the sound of her voice as she spoke.

At the small break in the reading he just took a deep shaking breath, telling her about how much he appreciated the book and her reading it, he was happy that she seemed to care so much, "I'm learning, I thought I could manage it myself, I think I need more lessons," he told her brightly, his confidence from the classes shining through in his tone, "Professor Phillips helps me learn, he doesn't get annoyed at me either," the boy continued with a smile, the teen then settled back down as Esme continued reading he settled into it and just couldn't stop the smile from his face, the joy he felt with her. When the story was over Avie just looked at her and smiled, "I remember that story, my mum used to read it to me all the time, she knew the story by heart, I always assumed it was one of hers," Avie told Esme with a small smile remembering his mother fondly and preferring to remember fondly in this way rather than in any other type of way.
 

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