Secrets

[Desideratus Lesley]

Desideratus had never been a methodical person. Often, he would jump straight into things without a second thought. He had been trying to spend as much time as he could possibly manage with his kind-of-sort-of-it's-a-bit-complicated brother, Damide, but being in different houses and years, he found that it was a little more complicated than he thought. And to be honest, they had slightly different priorities, and sometimes he would be glared at but those snooty Ravenclaws if he went about busting into their lunch and eating at their table. Especially after the food-fight incident. He wasn't to the point of regretting his actions (although he did wish he'd jumped out the window when he had the chance), but the Gryffindor realised that he had stepped on a couple of toes.

Fortunately, his Hufflepuff friend Soren was still willing to hang out (not that he had much choice seeing as he was mostly dragged everywhere). He couldn't be left out, and Des needed someone to talk to. He could go and fetch Desislav from somewhere, but he was probably off getting into his own mischief, and he seemed to attracted Professor Kingsley like no-one's business. There was nothing more boring than having a professor tag along everywhere, they had only narrowly escaped her before.

"So, we've gone through the first, and second, and third and fourth floor right," the Gryffindor said, tapping his notepad thoughtfully with a pen. "And I skipped the fifth floor because..." He looked around, just in case unwanted ears should find themselves nearby. "I let off a few stink bombs in the lavatory, and it's pretty bad. Can't let you smell it - seriously." Just thinking about the stench made his face pale. "It's bad. But don't worry, we'll totally find the room, right. I bet it's on this floor - or maybe the seventh floor." He looked back at his notepad, and began gnawing on the end of the pen. "Maybe the dungeons... we'll check out here first though. Are you getting tired?" He jumped a little, as if testing his legs for springs. "I'm getting a little tired. Hey! Next floor, I'll run into the Gryffindor Common Room, and I'll bring out all my lollies and we can eat them - oh, and maybe on the seventh floor we can check out the Ravenclaw Common Room. Apparently it takes a riddle to get in." He ran his hand along the wall, just checking for any hidden switches. He noted down his failure and continued. "You're really clever, I think. I bet we could break in! My brother's in there - Damide - well, he's sort of my brother... it's a little complicated, actually."
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[Soren Sedridor]

If it weren't for Desideratus, Soren likely would have never left his dorm room, with the exception of traveling to and from classes or attending meals. Though after a dramatic food fight to start off the year, not even the Great Hall was a safe place to be anymore. He'd seen mere moments of the students battling it out with their breakfast, knee deep in jam before the doors had been closed and locked, and those few moments were more than enough for him. Of course Des had been involved and it was one of the few times he was actually happy to not have been dragged into his antics. But for the most part, as much as Soren wasn't open about it, he did enjoy the time he spent with Des. The Gryffindor could come up with the most ridiculous ideas sometimes, yet Soren was glad to be invited along and accepted, even if it was only really by one person. No one else made an effort to include him.

The one downside to hanging out with Des was the physical activity. Sedridor wasn't the most athletic of teenagers, a fact his father greatly disapproved of, so it didn't take much at all to tire him out. He knew he should be grateful that it kept him from wasting away to nothing in his bed, but his legs protested all of the walking he was doing. Today especially so. The two third years had already combed through four floors of the castle in search of something Soren doubted the existence of, and they still had four more to go, plus possibly even the towers to check.

Reaching the sixth floor, the Hufflepuff breathed a sigh of relief as they finally stopped walking and leaned against the wall, listening as Desideratus rattled on. At first the Gryffindor boy had been a little exhausting with his endless talking, but Soren quickly grew used to it and even welcomed it. His friend spoke so much that it meant he never needed to, aside from the nod or shake of his head ever so often, or infrequent scrawlings on parchment. His bag hung loosely on his shoulder and contained ink, paper and a quill, but he had no need of it so far. Des already had a notepad, and oddly a pen. The muggle writing utensil was uncommon in the castle. Soren had seen a girl go so far as to snap another student's pen. So, he kept to his quills. He didn't want to stand out. It was one of his biggest fears.

As Desideratus mentioned that he'd let off a few stink bombs on the fifth floor, Soren glanced at him with an unsurprised look and shook his head with a small smile. He would definitely steer clear of that floor for a while. Thankfully he didn't have any Transfiguration classes for the day. The mention of the seventh floor caused him to groan, however. More walking was not something he wanted to do. How Des could be so active and actually manage a jump after all of the walking they'd done was beyond him. Soren bounced slightly on the spot, but his feet never left the ground. The promise of sugar lifted his spirits slightly, but it was still another floor up. Still, it was better than the Ravenclaw idea. Soren raised his eyebrow as Des said he thought he was clever, but didn't sound too certain. Admittedly, Soren wasn't either. He felt like a failure due to his magical ineptitude, but he did fairly well when it came to the subjects that didn't require a wand. He guessed he could always find out just how clever he was with this common room riddle, but being unable to provide a verbal answer could pose a problem. He shrugged, gesturing for Des to continue trying to explain his relationship with this Damide character. He was interested now, he had no idea Des had a sort of brother.
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[Desideratus Lesley]

Desideratus returned to walking, tugging Soren along, as he tried to think into his complicated family right at this moment. "Okay, so Dexter's headboy - but you know Dexter. Um... okay, so my sister, Demeter, she's dating this guy, right." He paused, throwing his arms all along another wall, and jumping to reach higher bits. "So anyway, my sister Desislava who's my legal guardian, right, she put my brother Dwaide into Beauxbatons because we kept fighting and he wanted to live with our aunt, Darcia back in France when Desislava wanted to go with Demeter to New Zealand, and I went too because I really hate Darcia." He continued walking, and then stuck his head out of a window to look over the grounds. Perhaps leaning a little more than was safe, he continued, yelling a little loudly so Soren would be able to hear him. "So, Demeter's partner's name is like, Audel, and he's a chef and cooks really good food and he has a son, Damide." He brought his face back in, and grinned. "So, when they get married I'm like, his cousin slash uncle, but since we're so close in age that's really weird, you know? So it's like we're brothers! So we're cousins slash uncle and nephew slash brothers. It's kind of awesome."

He closed the window, having found nothing interesting, and returned to feeling the walls. "Now, I know you're not exactly sure that I'm not crazy, but I swear there's something here. I feel it in my bones, it's like a super massive gut feeling." And also stories that he'd heard around the place, the Gryffindor got around during his midnight explorations. He had heard enough whispers to decide that there was certainly something he had missed. It was just a matter of figuring out what it was, and then finding it. "I wouldn't drag you all through the castle if I didn't think there was something, trust me!" Especially judging by that groan earlier, Soren didn't tend to like walking. It was a shame, really, because he was frequently forced to do it. Des couldn't sit still for longer than ten minutes otherwise he began going crazy. It was simple as that.

He jumped on a suspiciously placed floor stone, but it was no secret step. He made a noise of disappointment, and looked at Soren. "I think my spirits are dampening," he stated solemnly. "Time for lollies! Come on!" Grabbing Soren's arm, the Gryffindor readied to begin tearing down the hallway towards the stairs for the next floor.
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[Soren Sedridor]

Soren nodded his head as he listened along to Des explain his complicated relationship. There were a lot of names to keep track of; Dexter, Demeter, Desislava, Dwaide, Darcia. The Hufflepuff thought he could see a pattern in all these names, stopping to think about it only after he made sure he could grab onto his friend if he went tumbling from the window he decided to start leaning out of. As soon as he had a moment, he realised the Gryffindor's family members all started with D, except for the Audel man who didn't entirely count. Daudel would have been an odd name. His son at least was following along with the pattern. Soren was aware that some families held naming traditions, such as having their descendants named after celestial bodies and the like, but having a theme based around a single letter was curious. His own families naming, at least on his father's side, were very focused on powerful animals and divinity. Bears, wolves, falcons. Either as a first or second name, every relative he had kept to this tradition. His middle name may have been more fitting for his personality if it reflected a mouse rather than a wolf as it were, he always thought. As much as his father wanted him to live up to the name he was given, he couldn't help who he was. He wanted to be that person his parents could be proud of just as much, but it just wasn't meant for him.

The Danish boy nodded his head in understanding once Desideratus had finally finished, making a small noise to accompany it and show that he was paying attention. He wondered what it was like to have a cousin-uncle-nephew-brother. He only had a younger sister and a few older cousins who he didn't spend much time with. His uncles were all adults themselves, none anywhere close to his age. He guessed if any were, he'd view them more as cousins than anything too. Taking a moment to place his hand against one of the walls they were passing, Soren feigned enthusiasm about finding the imaginary secret that a bunch of older students had likely simply made up to mess with the younger kids. The so-called "gut" feeling Des claimed to have was probably just a longing for the sweets up in the Gryffindor Tower. That's what Soren was feeling, at least. From the corner of his eye he could see Des jumping on the floor and his focus shifted down toward an off-center pattern in the stone. The Hufflepuff smiled, amused by how much his friend believed in this fantasy. Even if he was skeptical, he had to admit it was a little fun to search around, like they were detectives.

As soon as Des gave up and decided it was time for a lolly break, Soren expressed an obvious sigh of relief and felt an immediate boost of energy, just enough to get up to the next floor. He was glad for it, because with the Gryffindor holding on to him he would have had no choice but to run anyway. His legs picked up speed and he headed toward the staircase, his bag tossling behind his shoulder. His foot found the first step, but he got no farther than that as the sound of his bags clasp unclipping, followed by it becoming a whole lot lighter in weight caught his attention. As it was, the bag was old and patched in certain places and its clasp rarely held on anymore. The boy paused and turned on the spot, looking down at the mess of books and equipment that had tumbled out. Among them lay the unopened Howler his father had sent him, which was bound to explode sooner or later if he continued to ignore it, which he was fine with. It was likely just an angry message regarding him not bothering to try out for Quidditch for his third year in a row, why his grades weren't improving and how much of a disappointment he was. The standard. Gesturing for his friend to wait, Soren bent down and slowly started to retrieve the items, glad that none of them included one of the glass ink vials.
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[Desideratus Lesley]

Des ignored the sigh he heard from his friend - Soren had no adventurous bones in his body, but the Gryffindor could live with that. Besides, he was adventurous enough for them both of them - he couldn't fathom the kind of trouble he would get into if Soren were like him. By time Soren's bag fell apart, Desideratus was nearly scaling the second stair case, and looked over curiously at the sound. He sighed. "Soren - I told you that bag was a safety hazard," he said conversationally, wandering back down the steps. "Seriously, we could've tripped on that and fell down the stairs and died or something - I've already fallen down one set of stairs because of you." He grinned brightly, knowing all too well that he fell down the stairs all by himself, last time. It would have been the same outcome whether Soren had have been there or not - it wasn't wise to jump down staircases, after all. "Better clean it up, anyway, otherwise some caretaker or something might come out like a ninja and get mad. Have you ever seen them? Because I haven't. Maybe the elves do it or something - hey! Maybe the castle cleans itself!" He began taking the items Soren held, and stuffing them in his own bag (which was usually more on the empty side, anyway. One could not adventure with a heavy bag, after all). "Yeah, like brooms and stuff just sweeping all by themselves. That'd be cool. My sister'd really like it if our house cleaned itself - she always says I make a mess. She just doesn't understand creativity."

"Ooh!" After running off topic three times, including a passionate explanation on why he needed to carry tissues everywhere, Des noticed the howler on the ground, and poked it with his foot. He was pretty sure he could recognise a howler when he saw one - Merlin knew he was getting them frequently. "Hey Soren, should you like, open that before it just decides to explode in your face at some random moment and yell at you? Like, what if it happens during class or something? Then again, it'd be a great way to distract the professor." He took a moment to think on the topic. "Yeah, Soren - you're a genius! I should totally do that one day, just keep a collection of howlers with me and let them go off as they please. Thanks for the idea!" He tsked happily, and patting Soren on the shoulder. "You're such a great friend."

Leaving off with that, Des readjusted the stuff in his bag and knelt down to pick the howler up. Perhaps he could have been a little more careful with the magical letter, as he held it by the corner and waved it a bit. He squinted at the writing at the front, not being able to read the language, though seeing the name of his friend appearing somewhere in the middle of it all. It had never actually come to him that perhaps English wasn't Soren's native language - maybe that explained his silence! "Hey, Soren," he began, but right at that moment the letter erupted right in his hand. The Gryffindor watched in a stunned silence (a rare occurrence) as the howler garbled along in a language he had never heard before. The brunette blinked as the letter then promptly tore itself up after its frantic yelling at his Hufflepuff friend and, finally, he looked at him. "I'm actually speechless."​

 

[Soren Sedridor]

Sedridor shrugged apologetically in response to his Des' concerns over the bag. Of course he had wanted to buy a new one, but he lacked the galleons and his parents didn't think he'd done anything to deserve any more. Or, more-so his father when it came down to it - his mother barely knew what a galleon was. To her, it was all penny's and pounds. Sometimes she struggled even when it came to danish currency. Wizarding money was too much to remember on top of that. He was more than happy to just let her patch it up during the holidays instead, but it had reached the point where the original bag no longer existed. Looking down at the broken sack of patchwork, he knew at least now they'd have to buy him a new one. Tearing his eyes away, the Hufflepuff turned to his friend with a sheepish grin, recalling their first meeting as the boy started taking from him the books he'd been holding.

Soren shook his head no at the question regarding caretakers and if he'd seen any. Admittedly he'd never seen a single soul clean the place in his three years at the academy, yet somehow it had remained clean. House elves sounded like the most probable cause, they were surprisingly stealthy little creatures, but he wasn't sure if they ever left the kitchen, but he couldn't imagine them sleeping there. Animated brooms would have been much more intriguing. When he'd entered the pet store to buy Flint, the cleaning products there did very much the same thing, brooms walking on their bristles and sweeping up the floor while a dog just sat and watched from the counter. It was odd, even by wizarding standards.

From there, it was just a series of nods of agreement, vague humming and shakes of his head as the Gryffindor rattled off more topics than he could follow, ceaseless until Desideratus noticed the howler before Soren could retrieve it. While his friend seemed more concerned with it exploding, Soren shrugged for the second time. He didn't care about them anymore, and hoped that if it did explode in his bag, it'd be muffled. That was probably why the bag had broken in the first place - the strain of having too much junk pressed up against the envelope to smother it. Naturally, the Gryffindor's concern turned into a fantastic idea, and somehow Soren had managed to gain the credit for it. That was one of the things he loved about Des, the fact that he could have a conversation with him without actually having a conversation with him. You're an even greater friend, Desi. He didn't open his mouth to respond, but conveyed it with a smile and gesture. While he only had one friend in the entire castle, he was happy. Des was enough to make him want to be there, even if nothing else did.

Typically, that happiness was short lived, for the howler took its opportunity to go off, bursting in a tirade of danish garbling that felt like it would never end for the red-faced boy. The only thing he had to be grateful for was the fact that, as far as he knew, Des had no idea what the envelope was saying, which was probably for the best. His father didn't hold back when it came to putting him down, so it was better that only one of them could understand it. After what he assumed was three pages worth of writing, it tore itself into shreds. There was a long silence. Soren's eyes were burning, but he didn't move or say anything - not that he ever did. He was focused on trying not to let Asbjorn's tirade get to him. Finally, Des spoke up and Soren turned to him, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a small smile despite his watering eyes. Same, he mimed silently. A speechless Desideratus was definitely a first. He didn't like it. Now was when he needed his friend to continue talking and keep him distracted from himself the most.
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[Desideratus Lesley]

Sometimes, Desideratus had to wonder why Soren was his friend, but he brain didn't tend to entertain these thoughts for too long. The howler did remind him of something, however. Soren didn't speak, and that letter was clearly not in English. Since the Hufflepuff never spoke, the Gryffindor never actually considered the idea that, perhaps, Soren was not a native to the country they went to school in. Des now lived in New Zealand, but he himself originally came from France. Seeing as Soren never spoke to him, he didn't even know his accent - and that language just before certainly wasn't anything he could recognise. So, not French. It would have been easier if he were, to be honest, as now Desideratus assumed that Soren's silence was from not being able to speak English properly. He was probably embarrassed! He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it earlier.

Desideratus rolled his eyes and wiggled his nose at Soren's response, trying to brighten him up as, whilst he often missed things, he didn't miss the look on his friend's face. he was clearly upset. "You're always speechless." He wasn't sure if he had ever heard Soren actually say a complete word, but certainly not a sentence. There was another pause as his eyes lingered on the torn up parchment, once again being reminded of his assumption. "I thought you were like, native," Des finally stated bluntly, rather dumbfounded and unsure of what to do or say. He was trying to think of more things - Soren really did look very upset, and it was getting him worried. "But like - so like, English isn't your first language? Is that why you can't talk to me - you're not confident in English? That's okay, by the way, I was really bad at English before I moved to New Zealand, you'll pick it up in no time if you keep trying - especially if you're with me. I just keep talking all the time, you're bound to pick something up!" He bent over to scoop up all the torn up parchment, planning to eventually find somewhere to put it all. Maybe throw it out the window. "Where are you from? That wasn't French, and I don't think it was Bulgarian - I've got family from Bulgaria and sometimes I hear them talk all weird, like, seriously. Wait - ooo, I could guess! Soren... Soren... where is that from, anyway? Are you Greek??"
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[Soren Sedridor]

The Hufflepuffs shoulders shook with a silent chuckle as his friend commented about being speechless and how Soren always fell into that category. Never a truer statement. Though, as the Gryffindor began to question his nativity, it took a turn into an awful theory about his lack of social capabilities being attributed to little confidence in the English language. He shook his head quickly, looking both horrified and amused. No, no. If he had been gifted the ability to speak freely and without obstruction, his English would have been fine - A heavy accent and infrequent odd sentence structures, but more than enough to get him by in New Zealand. He understood everyone with relative ease and while he stumbled on a few of the larger and more complicated words, there was no language barrier there. This, he attempted to poorly communicate through sign and charades. Eventually, he gave up, rummaging for a pen through the mess of contents that had been stuffed into Desideratus' bag. Though he couldn't answer and explain everything, the boy did write a few words on the palm of his hand, holding it out for his friend to see.

From denmark. I know english =)

It wasn't much, not that he had enough space on his palm to write it all down, but it summed up enough, and the questioning had taken his mind off of his father's letter for the time being. Now that Soren's personal items were secure, he gathered up the remnants of his old bag and rolled it into a ball of fabric, not yet sure of what to do with it. But that problem was at the back of his mind now. All the boy wanted to focus on was the early promise of lollies, which with silent enthusiasm, he communicated. Once the two boys had ascended the rest of the stairs to another floor, and Des had retrieved their sugary sweets, Soren spent the rest of their time together scribbling on a notepad and trying to answer the questions about his background as best he could, both leaving their adventure for another day.
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