So, I couldn't decide on a name...

[Nadia Kaster]

The room was abandoned as Nadia sat in the corner of the room and thought about how perfect her life was. She had the best mother in the world, the best father, the best siblings. She loved her family and they all loved her. She worked hard to make them proud. She lived for them and she lived for her love of her family. When she joined a new group or tried something new her mother was always there cheering her on to do her best. She would always tell Nadia that life is a waste if you dont live. Where was she now? Nadia had noone anymore, her life was a waste, her family was gone and her father virtually ignored her now. What was there for her to really live for anymore? She was left in her own little world of pain. She had pushed all her friends away and now she had noone.

Nadia brought her knees up to her chest and foldeded her arms around them, placing her head on her knees. A tear ran down her cheek as she did so. Her life was worthless now, there was no point to any of it anymore. Life is but an imagination of the things that could be...

 

[Stefan Archer]

If there was one thing that Stefan had realized at Hogwarts, was
that life wasn't fair to him. Not in any way. Yes, he was no longer
completely alone. He had people he counted as friends, but this
did not shift the loneliness that the young slytherin boy felt. Out
of school, he knew what awaited him. Worse than being ignored,
worse than having nothing. Having someone who did not care, who
treated his own son, as if he was an animal. Stefan did not want to
go home for the holidays, but he had no choice. He did not want his
father to come looking for him. Hogwarts was a sanctuary. And the
moment his father came even remotely close, it lost that. Stefan was
unlike most others. He had no siblings, to which he was at times
thankfully for, he had no grandparents, none that he knew of. And no
mother. The only light in Stefan's life was in mother. A woman, he
did not know. A woman, he did not even know the look of. Stefan had
been 2 when she had died. And he only knew this because his father
blamed him. But Stefan had no idea how his mother's death could've
been his fault.

Something within Stefan told him, that it was the colourblind thing. The
fact he could see in Black, white and grey, had deterred his mother from
living life. It was a silly thing, and Stefan had to believe this to be untrue.
His mother, had she lived would've loved him, more than anything. She
would've protected him. And she would've reassured him that the colour
blindness, was not a curse. But rather a gift. Something to be proud of.
But, Stefan could not see it. It was a curse, plain and simple. It was why
Stefan never really knew what colour of clothing he was wearing, and while
he might have been told that it was the usual colours, he might actually
be wearing some bright neon colour. Stefan had no idea. He did not even
know what neon colour was. But it did not sound like something that would
be in fact enjoyable. Or that would help Stefan blend in. It was the thing
that Stefan held dearly onto. The fact, that he could blend in. That he
kept his head down, and kept silent. It was just how he was. And this was
no different after his potions lesson as he walked up to the student lounge.
Neither hungry enough to go to the great hall, nor bored enough to return
to his dorm. It was too sunny outside, so Stefan could not go out. He was
stuck to the indoors, something the pale slytherin did not mind. In his uniform
he looked abnormally pale. It did not help, that the school was warm, and so
he had rolled up his shirt sleeves and loosely done his tie, while purposely leaving
the robe in the dorm. Overall, although not visible to Stefan, he was close
to the same colour as the white shirt.

Stefan looked around the room. His startling dark blue eyes, skimming around
the room. The dark blue eyes stood out clearly against the dark circles around
his eyes and the paleness of his skin. He did not notice these little things. He
did not he had dark blue eyes. Or that they were clear as day in light. He did
not know what blue actually was. One thing about Stefan that was no longer
as clear as it had been upon first arrival, were the scars upon his skin. Not so
clear, as the small colour that Stefan had gained was beginning to mask them.
His hand, however, did not tell the same story. His left hand, was a maze of
different scars, that intertwined and blended together to make his had look
like it had a million veins all at the surface. It was as Stefan placed his bag
upon a table, that he noticed the girl sitting in the colour. Stefan was scared.
Although most would have no been bothered by another person, Stefan was
afraid. As he always was, with people he had never seen before. She did not
look much older than him, but, she still seemed older. Stefan did not know what
to do. SHe looked upset. Stefan wondered if it would be better to just ignore
her, and get on with his life, or at least go over and say something. Stefan
wondered what the girl would be upset about, if she was even upset. After
thinking it over in his head, Stefan walked over. He, in his mind had decided
to just go over. With not the intention of asking if she was alright. He did
not know her. He wanted to at least check.

Stefan cleared his throat as he got closer to the girl. He could not which
house the girl belonged to. He could not see a crest, and the colours of
the four houses were annoyingly similar. So, Stefan was praying that she
wasn't some b!tch slytherin. "Excuse me," Stefan began, his eyes
glued to the ground. It was an odd thing colourblindness. And although he
did not notice it, he had a stare, which almost gave away that he did not
see everything. I see you, but I don't type thing. It was hard to explain,
but Stefan had a stare. "Do you have a pen I can borrow?" Stefan
asked. His voice quiet, and just above a whisper. Stefan was not at all
confident and not being able to see the house she was in, really made him
regret walking over. Even if it was just for a pen. A pen, he actually did not
need. Stefan looked to the girl, as he waited nervously for a pen, his left
hand (the scarred one), ready to quickly take one if she had one.
​

<i></i>

 

[Nadia Kaster]

Nadia kept her head in her hands as she heard someone walk in. It was almost as if she really didn't care anymore. Which was probably correct. Nadia had not been cpoing well with the death of her family and it was almost as if she was blaming herself for not being able to help her family. Her mother, Michael and Hayley had been the highlights of her life. but the worst thing, was that she had never actually gotten to meet her small, threemonth old sister. They had been on their way to New Zealand when she had lost them. And then her Aunt and Uncle, apparently overcome with grief had more or less disowned her. And then to have her father ignore her, Nadia was really starting to feel the pain of it all and it was beginning to take its toll on her, mind, body and soul. All she thought about these days was how much she was going to miss not having a mother, how much she was going to miss not being an only child, how much she was going to miss her father. Because now she hated him. She never went outside anymore because she feared someone trying to hurt her, she feared meeting old friends and having them go off at her. She feared not knowing what to expect. These days Nadia was scared of almost anything.

Then she heard footsteps as the person who had entered previously seemed to be coming towards her. She didn't realise how desperately she hoped it wasn't someone she knew until now. She slowly lifted her head to look at him as he asked for a pen. Was he serious? He wanted a pen? Well he was not in luck because Nadia didn't have one. "I'm sorry, I have no pens" She said softly as she looked at him. He was a curious looking boy. Very pale and he had themost amazingly coloured clue eyes. He also however was covered in scars. This was an odd sight to Nadia as she had never met anyone with some many scars before. She wondered how he had gotten them, but rather then ask him she simply just watched him. He had an odd look about him, like he wasn't really seeing everything, even when he was. It was hard to explain, but that was just the feeling she got from him.

 

[Stefan Archer]

Stefan felt his cheeks burn, he knew this to be a sign of embarrassment.
Although he did not know that his cheeks flushed red. And he looked very
awkward. The reason for this. The girl did not have a pen. Stefan just
gave a small shrug and then shook his head. He couldn't tell if the girl
was upset or if she wasn't it looked like she was a little, by the small
tear tracks, but that Stefan knew to be caused by a number of things
and not just one. He could not see her slightly reddened eyes. Every
thing to the Slytherin seemed fine, but it was really his colourblindness
getting in the way of him actually seeing. Stefan looked down at the
ground and gave a small shrug. "Oh okay. Sorry." Stefan
muttered before turning away from the girl. As he walked back this
belongings he wondered what the girl had looked like. Her hair
had been somewhat dark, so he could gather that see was not
in fact a blonde, whatever that meant the colour was. He just
knew blonde meant bright.

Back at his home Stefan was usually just silent. He would speak
to himself, to create some noise he was comfortable with. Some
thing that was no his fathers yelling or the sound of hand upon
skin or crashing into things. Stefan gave a small sigh, and from
his bag pulled out his homework, and a pen. He wondered if the
girl would leave or if she would continue in the corner, or even
go over to him. What Stefan knew was that with loneliness the
desire to be around people was small. Stefan was constNtly afraid
that his friends would turn away from him, or that they would
find out about Stefan and just not want to speak to him. But
he had gathered from Hogwarts that two lonely people could
just sit together, and although still lonely the company made
it hurt less. Put Stefan could not know. He had no idea as to
what, if anything, had happened to the girl. Hr wondered if
it compared to him. He wondered if she too was completely
colourblind. Stefan did not know and was very unsure as to
if he would ever really know. Just wait and see his
Mind reassured.​

 

[Nadia Kaster]

Nadia saw the boys cheeks burn as she told him she did not have a pen. She kind of felt bad because of it. The redness of his cheeks looked alittle frightening against his pale skin. She had to admitt, there was definately something wrong with him. Yet she was sure if she continued on for the amount of time she was indoors she would soon be the same colour he was. How ever much she wanted to talk to him and ask him about many things, she was too depressed. She didn't know why these things had happened to her. She didn't care why they had happened. All she cared about was the fact that she no longer connected with her family. She didn't really have one any more. all she had left was her father and she hadn't spoken to him in months. In some ways she was sad about this, but in other ways she was glad because she blamed him. Why couldn't he have just apparated them? Why did he have to be at work? Why did they have to die? She put her head back down as the pale boy she had become curious about apologised to her and walked back over to whereever he had been before he had come up to her.

She wondered why he had really come up to her. It had been pretty obvious from his reaction that he had not been looking for a pen. had he perhaps been curious about her? As too why she had been in the corner? She really was curious now and she realised that maybe she didn't want to be alone anymore. She had been on her own for so long that she had almost forgotten what it was like to have someone else with her. She looked up and saw the boy doing what appeared to be homework. Maybe if she just sat on the lounge near him, it would be enough for her to feel alittle less alone. She didn't really think she was up to talking to him completely but maybe one or two words of greeting. She stood up and wobbled over to him. She had been sitting in that positon for a while and her legs were actually aching. "Do you mind if I just sit with you for a while?" She asked as she stood near the lounge. "Atleast until you finish that?" She asked.

 

[Stefan Archer]

Stefan had never really found himself be curious about someone else, but
the girl was drawing out his curiousity. However unlike most he did not feel
the need to exercise his curiousity. He didn't thinkit would be very effective
or necessary. He didn't know her and she did not know him. They were two
strangers caught in the same place at the same time. So Stefan just did what
he did best. Completely ignore her. He had tried and failed, he was not really
the type to try again. Stefan took his pen and while carefully concentrating
began to work. He wrote and read slowly. He had spent little time at home
properly learning to read and write and he was now having to pick it up very
quickly. It was long and it took Stefan generally closeto three hours to do
a simple task, but he was getting better. And he had nothing restricting him.
His father couldn't snap the pen or pencil, he could smack Stefan's hand
or show his fathers way of using a hand. For pain more than writing.

Stefan began to wonder if the girl was in the same boat. If she had a father
like he did. Although Stefan hoped to god almighty that she did not. Stefan
knew it was terrible what his father had done Nd would do. Stefan gave a
small sigh. The voice of the girl caused Stefan to jump and accidentaly
draw a huge line upon his page. He looked up and gave a small nod. He
liked that she had come over. She didn't look like she wanted to talk, but
Stefan did not want to ask questions so it was just what he needed silent
company. "Sure, but I should warn, it going to take me forever to get
this done." Stefan said looking back at his work and then to the girl.
He wondered what colour eyes she had. What colour of hair. He was always
very curious. And Even though Stefan didn't know, he had this look when
he was trying to figure out what a person looked like. It was one where he
was looking but not at all seeing. "I could use the company." Stefan
muttered before returning his eyes to his work and without another word
beginning to work away again. Slowly, each pen movement slow and purposefully.
It was going to take him forever.​

 

[Nadia Kaster]

Out of Character:

Sorry for the wait. Internet time was limited.

Nadia was definately not into talking at the moment, but she could do with the company for awhile. By the looks of things, this boy was probably going to be here for a while. He seemed to be younger then her, she figured first year. She had never seen him in any of her classes so she figured that was her best bet. Nadia did not know this boy, and this boy did not know her. She didn't really have any desire to know him, but she was curious as to why he was so pale. She thought perhaps maybe he was sick? She had seen palness like sich before. Maybe the boy had just had no time in the sun? Which was unnatural as there was alot of sun here.

She watched him as he began his homework she had been correct in her assumption that it would take him forever when he told her. She felt sorry for him. She was sure she had seen a scar on his hand before, when he had asked for a pen. She figured that his hand might be hurting. She had to admitt. She was going to be very greatful for his company. After everything that had happened she still couldn't believe that she was still here. She would have thought that her father would have pulled her out of school by now. "That is fine with me... I could use some quiet company as well" She admitted nodding slightly. Looking at him again, she sighed and shook her head. "Do you want help with that?" She asked. He looked pathetic as he tried to finish his homework. Could he not read perhaps? She may not have known him, but she was still a Ravenclaw. There was a priniciple involoved.

 

[Stefan Archer]

Stefan could see out of the corner of his eye. He knew she was watching him. Watching as he slowly
did his homework. Squinting at the paper as he did so. The darkness of the room did not help much in
his writing. Being colourblind had no perks. It was just the same thing day in day out. There were days
when Stefan just wished he was blind, but then he reminded himself, at least he could see. He could
see the people he was speaking to, and only those who knew his condition would ever know that
something was wrong with him. Stefan wasn't happy about being colourblind. It meant his homework
took forever, and the apart from spell names, he didn't know the difference between them. It meant that
he found the classes difficult. He was currently working on an essay for potions. And the book was not
much help. It refered to the potions he was meant to be writing of by colour. And Stefan couldn't see
the colour. He was just trying to guess it. Just trying to make it through. Getting anything down was
better than handing nothing in. Stefan sighed slightly as he continued to write. It was annoying, since
if he moved his had in a certain way it hurt, and moving his hand in the certain ways when writing was
exactly what happened. It was almost fully healed, but it still hurt Stefan every so often. It was the
nature of an injury like that, and taking the sling off too early. He was paying the price for his own
impatience. And self consciousness.

Stefan looked up quickly at the girl who he knew was older than him. He needed help, but it wasn't because
he couldn't read, it was because he couldn't see the words well enough. "I could do with some help. I can
barely see the words on the page. I just need to know what they are, then I'll be fine in writing this essay."
Stefan said, looking down at the book, and only once looking to the girl. "I can read, but the lighting,
means I can't really see the words." Stefan continued before mentally telling himself to be quiet. He knew
that he was probably giving too much away. He didn't want to dump his problems on the girl. "You don't
actually have to help me. Just As long as you are sure you want to, I will happy take it." Stefan began to
write again. Slowly. He knew he looked silly, odd, stupid. But it wasn't his fault, in his 11 years of life before
school, he had barely even been allowed to pick up a book or a pen. Animals didn't read. Or write. Stefan
just hoped the girl would actually help him, not just laugh in his face, or question him further on the whole
lighting thing. Stefan just wanted to be helped. In that small thought he thought of home Stefan wanted
help, but he had never been brave enough to ask for it. he was glad, this girl, whoever she was, was willing
to help him.​

 

[Nadia Kaster]

Nadia smiled slightly, but it was a forced smile. She didn't have much to smile for any more. She felt sorry for this boy. It was unclear why? But she ignored it. She had no interest in this boys history or problems with the light at this time. It may seem selfish to some, but to her it was perfectly normal. Ofcourse you would feel sorry for yourself, you wouldn't see the feelings of others. If she had met this boy eight months ago, she would have seen the pain in his eyes, or the nearly healed bruises. She would have recognised the slowness of his writing as pain. But these days, in her depression, all she saw was her own troubles, her own darkness. She moved closer to the young boy and looked over his shoulder at the words written there. She slowly read through it her head before she recited the words written on the paper to him. "The questions are straight forward really... you just have to understand them..." She told him as she underlined some key words that he could use to help with writing his essay. "If you need any more help, just let me know". She added as she looked away, over to the window.

Out of Character:

Sorry its so short

 

[Stefan Archer]

Stefan just watched and listened as she read out the questions. The colourblind boy, felt odd getting
help. As if it wasn't actually normal to get help. As if it was weird and wrong. But, he knew that it had
to be good. Help was positive, and it made things easier. Stefan could tell. Although it didn't help his
writing, he was able to work without squinting at the paper, trying to make out the certain letters, he
still wrote slowly, but he was at least able to do the work. Stefan didn't notice things very easily. He
was very much in his own world. It was a selfish way of being, but Stefan had never known anything
else. He didn't have any siblings, he didn't have anyone else. Only now, he had some friends did he
even begin to consider others. Notice things, and it was as he wrote, and glanced up to the girl, that
he realised, that something was wrong. He wasn't sure, he could never be. It wasn't something that
anyone spoke about. Stefan Archer surely would not. He didn't want people to know what his father
did. Why he did it. Stefan knew they would laugh, force him to confront his father or just say he was
making it up. But the pain was real, it was there. The fear was there, it was real. His home life was
not something that any person could claim that they knew how it felt. At Hogwarts he felt better, he
felt safe and he felt at home. But at home, he wondered how he'd made it so far.

Stefan did not know what to do, his last attempt with the pen, hadn't worked out well, and he didn't
know how to make people feel better. Stefan just returned his eyes to his work, and continued to
write, it was a good distraction, so it wasn't clear that Stefan was trying to think of something other
to say to the girl. He didn't have words of advice, from how she was, Stefan figured either, she
had lost someone, was losing someone, or just acted in that fashion, for the fun of it. Stefan didn't
know what to say to her. He'd lost his mom. He knew the lies people said. He'd heard them at hogwarts
It gets better. Stefan knew these words weren't true. He had lost his mom at 2 years old, and every
time he thought of her, he would miss her. He longed to have his mom. His had no recollection of her,
but he was sure, she had to be nice. She had to be the nicest woman alive. She would've been pretty.
She would have been full of life, and then it had been taken away from her. Just as quickly as it had
been given to her. Stefan knew that his mother would've loved him for exactly who he was, colour
blind or not. Stefan didn't know if it was right to say that it didn't get better. It did, but, it wasn't
by much, the feeling of emptiness remained strong. Stefan didn't want to say anything anyway. They
didn't know each other. They weren't friends. He didn't even know her name. And he was sure that
she already thought that it would not get better. But, "People lie you know. When they say it gets
better, easier. It only gets a little better and a little easier." Stefan said, his voice quiet. He looked
to the girl as he spoke, before returning to do his work.​

 

[Nadia Kaster]

It was funny how, when you didn't know someone, you somehow felt less threatened by them. Nadia had no clue the nature of this boy, she didn't even know his name. She couldn't even say that they had met, because technically they hadn't, not a word about who each other was had left either mouth. They were in a comfortable bubble that would burst at the slightest touch. A bubble that made Nadia feel slightly lessed depressed. She knew that this boy was not going to pry into her life. He didn't even seem to know that she was suffering. He had the oddest look in his eyes that she couldn't place. The only reason she had even seen it was because he had the most beautiful shade of blue eyes she had ever seen. She could tell that it was definately his best asset. Though to be honest they looked almost deadly compared to his pale skin and skinny frame. But Nadia could not see the fear behind his eyes, or the pain in his words. She was completely oblivious to everything this boy was screaming. He could have dropped dead right beside her and she would not notice because she was locked. Nadia was looked up in her depression which restricted her from seeing the otherwise obviosu suffering of others. Even her best friend had not been enough to bring her out of it.

It was until he actually spoke to her directly that she heard him. She looked at him slightly as she thought about the words he had said. "People lie you know. When they say it gets better, easier. It only gets a little better and a little easier." What he had said was true. She had lost her loved ones alittle over eight months ago and it was still fresh in her mind, as if it had been on moments ago. For someone so seemingly young, he had so much wisdom to express. She could tell from the words he had chosen that he was very intelligent. Maybe she could be friends with him. If they had met under different circumstances. For now however, they were simply silence buddies. She could live with that. "Only time can heal what the mind cannot, and from an expression of love does the healing spring forth" She replied. It was an old saying that her mother used to tell her when she was young. She knew that she would only ever hear it in her mind now. No words of wisdom were to ever pass through her mothers lips again.

 

[Stefan Archer]

For a few moments Stefan wondered if the girl had even heard what he said. It was odd, since, even what he'd
said wasn't partially true. His father was the perfect example of how someone could be wrecked with grief and
still years on, be taking it out, on what was left of her. Stefan knew his father hated him because of that. Even
though Stefan had been two at the time, according to his father, it was his fault that Stefan's mom was dead.
But Stefan was sure he hadn't. He was sure, even at two that he loved his mom more than anything, and nothing
would change how much he had loved and still did love his mother. He couldn't remember her at all. But he assumed
that she had been beautiful. Young and full of life. He could see his father and his mother, together, and happy.
He could see his father as normal. Not violent, abusive, and drunk. Stefan knew his family would never be like
other people's. He'd never felt happy or safe in his home. Stefan had been about to say to the girl that what he'd
just said was a lie, when she spoke. Stefan looked up at the girl curiously. He didn't really understand what she
had said. It was an odd mixture of words. And it seemed old fashioned. Like a saying. The only sayings Stefan
knew were really just insults. He didn't know how else to put it. And his father enjoyed insulting him. Stefan just
gave a nod, and continued to write. Slowly carefully. His mind was still trying to process what she said. Stefan
did not know how to reply. He wasn't terribly clever. But he figured from what the girl had said, that she was
most likely a Ravenclaw.

Stefan did not want to ponder the issue much longer. Instead he just sighed inwardly, thinking of his mom, and
continued with his work. It was that, he would even speak the words about the pain. Stefan was never that
open. He always just said, that his mom died, or just that he lived with his father. Leaving it open for options
and which ever one the person picked, Stefan just nodded along. He wasn't the type to tell people differently.
Stefan however felt somewhat comfortable with the girl. It was odd, since he'd never met her, they had exchanged
few words, and the fact after he'd finished, he was almost sure he would never meet her again. But, it was nice.
Stefan liked it. He liked not knowing who the person was and for her to not know who he was. Suffer in silence in
the company of other suffers were the words that sprang to mind. "At least you probably aren't being blamed for
it." Stefan muttered. He spoke the words before he could stop himself. He knew that it was silly of his to
say such a thing that he wouldn't say to close friend, but it hadn't been too loud, and for once Stefan didn't really
care. He had been glad to get it off his chest. Something that had been eating away at him for as long as he
could remember. It didn't eat away any less, but it was nice to indirectly say what he was actually feeling about
the matter. And his father was not nearby, so he did not have to fear a black eye. Or a bruise or something else.
He was safe in the knowledge that he said something, that his father put on to him, and that Stefan knew that it
couldn't have been his fault. "I was only two" Stefan muttered, thinking out loud, while staring at his paper
and continuing to write.​