Open Poor Hiding Place

[Arvel Ayers]

Open after Brayden and Arvel have posted a bit!

Arvel liked birds. Birds were OK. Birds were cool. Some birds were even pretty, striking, or elegant. But did Arvel want to spend his entire holiday travelling around the world watching birds? No, he did not. Sadly, in the letter he had received from his parents that morning, it was made explicitly clear that the trip was already organised, and that Arvel had to go, because he was, quote, "Too young to stay at home on [his] own for six weeks." Arvel couldn't see what difference it made whether he was thirteen or eighteen: he was perfectly capable of looking after himself. Surely, he considered writing back, he was much safer at home than travelling around the world? But he knew it would make no difference. His mum might have considered it, but his dad wasn't the sort of person who could be swayed.

Dispirited, Arvel turned to one of his few comforts in the world: books. He found a quiet spot in the back of the library and borrowed a cushion from a nearby chair so that he could sit on the floor with his back against the bookcase. For some reason, he'd always felt more comfortable this way, hidden and low down, than sat at a table or in a chair. Taking off his glasses, he set them down on the floor beside him and then opened his book up to read. After a while the sun started to shine in through an adjacent window, and for a blissful moment, absorbed in his story, he almost forgot about the awful six weeks he was soon going to have to endure.

 

[Brayden Chevalier]

Brayden Chevalier had a lot of research to do for his classes, and this was no exception. He might not care about making straight Outstandings. He just wanted to pass somewhat. The rest, he did not care about. Brayden walked into the library with a stack of books, and went to the main rear in the library and placed the books onto a table. He was about to pull up a chair but noticed that the cushion was missing. The Slytherin looked around before finding the source of the missing cushion. It was someone in his own year, but immediately, Brayden sneered at his appearance. Hair was so messy! Brayden absently combed his back with his hand. His own appearance appeared to be neat, perfect, since he spent hours on it and throughout the day. "Uh, excuse me, boy with matted hair, why steal a cushion and sit in the floor? I know you look dirty, but I assure you, the floor is much more disgusting." Brayden folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow, while his blue eyes narrowed slightly.

 

[Arvel Ayers]

Arvel looked up, reality flooding in around him as he saw Brayden stood nearby. The Hufflepuff raised a hand instinctively to touch his hair. Was it really matted? He did brush it quite a lot - it just didn't like to sit flat. He looked down at his clothes, wondering if he'd spilled food on himself at breakfast, or if he'd sat down somewhere dusty without realising it. But the floor was fairly clean, and his clothes looked fine, if a little scruffy - which presumably meant Brayden was making fun of him. "Um," Arvel said, trying to meet the Slytherin's eye, but actually looking at a bookcase over his shoulder. "I like the floor. And it's not dirty." Truly, it wasn't. The house elves must have cleaned the library recently, because there was hardly a speck of dirt in sight. Arvel risked another quick glance at Brayden's face. It was difficult not to look at him - there was just something so magnetising about his presence, which, coupled with the fact he was being a jerk, made for a strange conflict of emotion.

 

[Brayden Chevalier]

Brayden could not help but notice that the boy was not looking him in the eye. So, was he socially awkward too? Ugh, what a bloody mess this was. The kid, Arvel was his name from what Brayden could think of, but dismissed it immediately. The boy said that he liked the floor, and proclaimed that it was not dirty. How could he even think that way? "Since when are floors clean? There's dust, shoes that walk along it, and apparently, Hufflepuffs that litter the floor. Regardless, you stole a cushion for a chair I wanted to delight myself in. I could just shove you from it, and take it by force, but now that you and your oily skin has touched it, no thanks." Brayden folded his arms across his chest, since a lot of gestures were made as he talked.

 

[Arvel Ayers]

Despite himself, Arvel felt a warmth creeping up on his cheeks, embarrassment welling up in his throat. What had he ever done to Brayden to deserve this? It was so typical - people always picked on him, even when he hadn't done anything wrong. When he found out that it was all about a stupid cushion, he accidentally smirked. What kind of pampered life did this boy live at home if he felt so entitled that he couldn't even share a cushion? Arvel wiped the smirk off quickly, but he could no longer even look up for fear of laughing. "OK," he managed to say, pretending to start reading his book again. "Bye."

 

[Brayden Chevalier]

The moment that the kid smirked, it definitely irked him somehow. Brayden would certainly not stand for this. Since the boy was reading, or pretending, either way he was not looking. Brayden swiftly brought his wand and looked around. Good, no witnesses. Brayden cast a verbal Petrificus Totalus toward the unsuspecting lad. He smirked, “I hope you enjoy sitting on that disgusting floor for an extended amount of time.”