Spotting the Signs

[Stefan Archer]

At the mere age of twelve, this Slytherin could stand in front of a mirror, in only his jeans and stare at a body so thin and so frail that the urge to smash the mirror and forget what he looked like was a feeling more strong, than it would be for most others his age. It did not help that his arm, had a bandage around it, to hide the burn and his front and back, were littered with bruises and scars. Cuts and gashes. His stomach area had a fairly big, deep purple bruise. And the bruises right up to his shoulders. It was not something that any person of any age would want to look at. But, that was what Stefan knew. It didn't mean he like it, but he it was all he really knew. Obviously being completely colourblind Stefan did not actually see what his body looked like with all the bruising. If any were to see it, then they would wonder if Stefan had been hit with something heavy. He was pale, and the bruises and scars stood out like they'd been stuck on and weren't actually part of Stefan. It was as the Slytherin dressed that he was glad of where the bruises. People would not suspect anything, if there was nothing their to suspect about. He hoped deeply that his friends would leave the subject. That they would ignore what they saw, and just let Stefan be Stefan. Without the constant reminders that he had someone at home who probably wouldn't mind if he didn't exist. Stefan knew they were awful thought, but since his father had them about him, he sometimes believed that his father was right. That he did in fact deserve all that had happened to him. To also included Stefan beginning to think that the death of his mother had been his fault. That it was because of him, that his mother had died. Stefan wanted to think this wasn't true, but his father knew best. I'm sure your mum would be proud of you Willow's words sounded in his head. Sure, it was easy to say that she would be proud of him, but if it was actually true was a different matter. Stefan liked to think that his mother would be proud of him. For the magic he was able to do. For the friends he'd managed to make, for the grades that were improving. He knew it was very little for her to actually be proud of, he hadn't really done anything with his life yet, but he was sure, grades and friends were what most parents would be proud of. Stefan just had to really hope that she was proud of him. Stefan was fairly proud of himself. Apart from Herbology, his grades had been good. He'd done better than he had ever hoped. It made him really realise he was not as bad as he believed. If he read enough and went to as many of the lessons as possible, he knew it would be possible for him to be a straight A student. As much as it was weird to think, Stefan wanted to be that. So that he could really give his father something to be proud of. He would not be in some dead end job at the bottom of the scale, as his father liked to taunt.

The school was bustling, it was the start of term and most were fairly excited to be getting back into the swing of things. Seeing friends and reading. Quidditch and chess. Everything seemed so normal. It was as if, Stefan had never left. Like, he'd just pressed pause on the school and left for a few weeks to press play upon his return. It was odd. He hadn't really taken much noticed of the people within the school. He liked how they smiled with friends, so oblivious to how some school was a lot more than just a place to learn from some. It was weird, how some could know so little and been through so little, and yet their were people like Stefan was seemed to have the entire world against him. Not the people, but just the world. Someone didn't like him. If they had, they wouldn't have given him less to deal with. He was twelve, motherless, with an awful father, in a household with very little money, and was unable to see any form of colour. He saw in black and white and shades of grey. If he wasn't too aware that it really was shades of grey. As not just mixture of black and white. It was just the way of the Slytherin. He had so much to deal with in his life. His ability to push through it and still be able to function with others was a wonder. His lapse had been the previous term, where nothing had really added up, and all that had really been in him was anger. Tired of being pushed around, but now the slytherin knew better. he had to bottle it all up. because having it in the open, had begun to scare Stefan. He'd been so like his father in those moments, and it had been something he was afraid of. Something he'd hoped would never happen, but they shared genes, it would obviously happen. But instead of thinking it over again in his head for the fourth hundredth time, Stefan was just going somewhere to read. So that he would be ahead of the others. Far in the distance. So that he'd still be at the right place when all the others were finishing the course. He would finish with them. Stefan sighed to himself as he walked through the student lounge. He was careful to keep his eyes down on the ground, and just head for the spot with an average amount of light, and with a small amount of people. It was fairly hard since a lot of people were refinding their friends. Stefan was alone. He just sat down and began to read. As he read, every so often he glanced up and looked around to the different people. Finally his eyes laid themselves upon a boy, who looked about fifth year. Stefan just looked at the boy for several seconds and then away. He wondered what it would be like to be that age. 15, 16. Older. It was something he was looking forward to. As much as he hoped he'd live to that age. It is achievable he thought. Stefan looked back down at his book and continued to read. Slowly and carefully, taking in all the words. Carefully reading and trying to hide the bruising around his eye.​

 

[Justin Cliffeton]

Justin was in the Student Lounge, he was having a little break from his Prefect jobs, and that was something he had desperately needed. It was a tough job to be a Prefect because it meant that you had to patrol the school at the late hours of the nights, and that meant that you didn't get much sleep. And then there was the handing out of the punishments, which was something that he didn't like to do. Justin was a person who preferred to give people rewards, and he didn't like to punish them. Justin wanted to be a Professor when he left the school, but he wasn't sure which subject that he wanted to teach yet. He knew that it would have to be one that interested him, maybe the one that he did the best in. He wasn't entirely sure just yet, but he would get around to figure it out eventually. That was something that he would obviously have to do. Thinking back to the past, Justin would have been a very different man if he didn't have the people in his life that he did. Trinity. His Uncle. His Friends. But not his Mother and Father. His Father who had abused him when he had only been young, that was something that he could never have forgiven. Nothing justified abusing your child, no matter what they had done, and no matter what had happened in your life. His Mother, who had stood there and never did anything about what his father had been doing, that was also unforgivable. If she had truly loved him she never would had let any of it happen, because it wasn't right what he had been doing, and her, his Mother, had done nothing to stop any of it! That wasn't a true Mother, that was someone who was scared of what would happen to her. A real mother would protect her son, no matter what it cost her. A real mother would have thrown out her husband after what he had done to Justin, no matter how much she loved him.

Justin now glanced around the lounge, to see if he could find anyone with whom he would be able to talk to for the day, because he was bored and there was nothing of interest out there in the castle for him. Not many people were find in the Prefects Common Room, even though there were plenty of Prefect's and you sometimes found the odd Head of House in there, but that was only an occasional thing. Justin's eyes fell on a boy whose eyes had found him, a young Slytherin boy. Justin couldn't tell why his eyes would fall on him out of all the people int his room, but Justin could understand straight away why he was sitting alone. The boy had bruising around his eye, which was something Justin was all too familiar with. Justin began to search the rest of the boys body from what he could see, and sure enough there were bruises covering the rest of him. Justin didn't know what he could say to the boy or if the boy would even listen to him or want to talk. He knew however, that if he wanted the boy to be able to feel comfortable around other people that he would have to say something to him eventually. Because Justin knew what it was like to be abused, to feel like there was nobody out there who could help you, and nothing could ever go right in your life. But, Justin was a living example of someone who had been abused and had managed to get over it. Justin knew exactly how to help people, but the hard part would be to get them to talk about things. Justin slowly began to walk over and sat across the table from the boy, who was now buried in his book. "Hey there, what you reading?" Justin asked, using a very casual and welcoming tone.​

 

[Stefan Archer]

If there was anything that the Slytherin knew how to do better than others it was disappear. Just like the jet black jumper which he wore could hide itself when it was dark, Stefan Archer was just that. He didn't have the hood of his jumper up, but the sleeves were down, and he was practically curled into a chair, and completely silent. Only the odd sound of a turning book page was what could be heard. Even if Stefan was to speak, he was very much quiet. The loud noises of the room around him wasn't something that he enjoyed much at all. It was something he actually rather hated. Loud noises eventually hurt his head. The Great Hall was somewhere that the Slytherin had only just gotten used to. It was an odd place, but he actually found it pretty easy to just disappear. To just bury his head in a book, or something of that sort. Most of the Slytherins ignored him anyway. He was muggleborn, and he was weird. That was enough for them to not even want to go near him. Which was actually something the Slytherin boy was okay with. He didn't really want to be friends with people who weren't actually that keen on him, were just pretending so that they could do better. This wasn't something he looked for in anyone, it just seemed that Slytherins had the trait a lot more than anyone from any other house. And the people from the other houses were a lot more likely to actually want to talk to Stefan. Unfortunately for the colour blind boy, apart from in the great hall, telling what houses people were in was more difficult. He couldn't see the colours on the uniform that went with the house. Green, red, yellow, blue. He didn't see them, and more to the point he didn't know what they were. Green was just a word to him. It held no meaning. As did many other words. The Slytherin knew that grass was green and that the sky was blue, he knew that Slytherin was green, and Gryffindor was red. But, he'd been told. The slytherin could hardly complain. He couldn't say to himself that it was all bad. Black and white was a different way of seeing that no one would ever know about. It was a secret. A secret club. And one that the slytherin was a part of alone. Alone, something that the slytherin was actually used to. He knew it was odd, and he knew that most would hate it. But, Stefan was alone so much of the time, it barely phased him. In saying that it wasn't something he enjoyed. It was just something he could live with. Which was another skill he had to thank his father for. Although he struggled to figure out if it was a good thing or a bad thing. It came in handy, but this didn't make it either in the Slytherin's books.

Alone. What he'd been at home. It may have been christmas for most, but, for the Slytherin boy, it was anything but a joyous time with family. It wasn't like his father had even remembered. Stefan had forgotten. It was only a few days after that he'd remembered what time of year it was. And what day he'd missed. This was not something that Stefan had gotten upset over. He'd never celebrated Christmas. He hadn't known of it's existance until the year before. Over hearing others talk of a happy day and what they were getting, had made the Slytherin curious as to what they were talking about, he had doubted that it was all their birthdays. But, after reading a little it had made the Slytherin's heart sink reading about what he missed. He'd seen the pictures of happy families, children unwrapping gifts, and the parents faces glowing. It was always an odd moment when someone asked how his holiday's had been, and all Stefan could do was invent some lie about a holiday that had never happened. It was like everything else, Stefan just knew he had to continue on as if it was like before when it was nothing to him. Something easier said than done. The colourblind boy was reading the book he had closely. Carefully making sure that he took in each word and that he knew what it meant. He didn't think that the older boy would come near him. It wasn't something that would bother him, just something else that he had to do. Be social, which for Stefan was something he struggled with. he didn't like talking much, it wasn't something that he really enjoyed doing. He could talk if someone asked him a question or if the time called for it. But he still struggled to start a conversation. And the black eye did not help his confidence. But, a voice of an older boy, made the young slytherin looked up quickly and almost appear a little shocked. He took a moment to re catch his breath while looking at his book. He had to look closely at the book title to make it out. "it's the History of Magic book. Hogwarts, A history." Stefan looked up at the boy briefly. The dark blue eyes glancing the boy over. He didn't know what else to say. Stefan looked down at his book, before briefly looking back up. "What year are you?" Stefan asked, not sure how to keep the conversation going. Or if the boy would want to talk for more than just two seconds. The slytherin boy didn't know, so he just decided to see.​

 

[Justin Cliffeton]

Justin smiled at the young boy. So, he had decided to talk to Justin. This would definitely be an interesting day now. Hopefully, he would be able to learn Stefan's story, and then he might be able to help him with everything that's happening in his life. That was, of course, if he wanted Justin's help. He wouldn't force anything upon the boy, because that's not what you should do, you should come to them when they were ready to be spoken to about everything, and especially when they're ready to open up to somebody. You couldn't force somebody to talk about traumatic events in their lives, especially when they could be harmful memories to them and make them do things to themselves that wouldn't turn out well in the long run. God knew that Justin had tried things like that when it had first started to happen to him, and he was lucky that he had been caught every single time. He had wanted it all to stop, and he hadn't even been able to look at himself in the mirror. Permanent bruises laced his body, and every one of them was a reminder of why he had to try and stop this happening wherever it popped up. It was a horrible act from anybody, and he was ashamed to know anybody who would do it to their children, after all, what would they do if they didn't have a child? Would they abuse everyone they knew? Would they turn to attacking randoms for no reason at all? Justin had to make sure they learned that their actions had consequences, and one day he would make sure that people understood that. Some day, he would try to become an Auror, and he would make sure that people understood exactly what you should do to your children, and child abuse wasn't one of those things!

Justin wondered what was going through the young boy's mind every day, knowing that he had to hide his feelings from the world, or having the feeling that it would never get better and that his life was complete poop with everything that was going on throughout it. Justin knew that he would feel worthless and he would feel like he deserved everything that happened and everything that whoever was abusing him did to him, but Justin didn't know whether or not he should say anything to the young boy about how the knew about what was going on. After all, it wasn't his life and he should have every chance to tell whoever he wanted when he was ready to tell them. Justin just decided to smile at the boy, and be his friend, or try to be his friend, and just help him get through his days. If that was what the boy wanted anyway. Justin chuckled. "Well, that definitely sounds like an interesting book to be reading, doesn't it? I'll have to admit to having read it a few times myself, and I can't complain of how interesting I find it to be." Justin admitted to the boy. He knew that little pieces of small talk would be the best way to make a friend, or attempt to make a friend. He knew that you had to be nice to the other person, perhaps tell them your name. Maybe the boy would feel a little bit uncomfortable around him, not knowing why he had even decided to talk to him. "Well, I'm in my Fifth Year, and I'm a Prefect. I'm Justin." He said, giving him a small bit of insight into him. Justin hoped that the boy would enjoy to know at least a little about him, and he hoped that he would tell Justin things about him.

 

[Stefan Archer]

Pretty much oblivious of most things that didn't concern him, he thought it was fairly interesting that a boy who was older, would take any concern in a second year slytherin. It didn't add up in Stefan Archer's brain that someone would know how it felt. How it really was to be in his kind of situation. The slytherin boy, had always thought it was him, alone on a desert island. Stefan wasn't stupid, he realised he wouldn't be completely alone in that situation, but he hardly wanted to think that anyway. He preferred to think that it was only his father who did such things. Stefan would not wish his situation upon any person, so even thinking that another person would have to suffer through anything similar would not be something he was found of. Stefan had to be glad that he did know no one else. That his situation would most likely be the only one they would ever come across. He hoped that for them. And while, Stefan knew that he had to focus on his life, and getting it better before thinking of other people's he had to admit, he was skeptical that he would ever make it out. Stefan had not been driven to anything. Nothing he knew he would regret, but his need for order and control were pretty present. He had control in his life over so little. That the control he had in Hogwarts was something that he was forever grateful of, that he was rea;;y just realising that was helping him. Hogwarts was a safe haven for him. It was the one place that he knew he could just relax. Apart from with the Ravenclaw boy, who he was pretty sure hated him a lot more than Stefan hated him. But, it hadn't really been his fault. Stefan knew in the last term, he had acted less like himself and more like the person he knew he hated. The slytherin boy had barely been able to control it. His anger had been so real and it had felt like fire burning away his insides. Stefan had not known how to deal with the anger. He still did not know, but he knew he had to work his hardest to just not get angry. It would not help him. That he knew fine well. Anger would get him no where and it pushed away the people he'd called his friends. The people he now realised he needed next to him. The colourblind slytherin saw no hope in him being able to leave his father, but it didn't mean he couldn't have friends. If one summer or winter he did not return to school, he knew that it would be okay. His friends might figure out what happened, but Stefan would know he'd had a good run. That his friends had made his life have meaning and that they'd made him feel less worthless. Which was why, Stefan had not asked the boy to leave. Despite the fact he was clearly older, Stefan was not going to turn down friendship.

Keeping his dark blue eyes on the book in front of him, he nodded it as the boy spoke. The slytherin boy did not necessarily read it for fun, but, it was one of the few books he actually owned, and to him that really meant he actually just had little other to read apart from that. Which was not something that he would complain about, he had read a few bits of it before, and it had been a lot more interesting that he would've first thought. And while he knew most would not agree, and most would think it weird a slytherin even enjoyed reading, he wasn't really one, and reading helped him improve his writing and it meant he was just in general quicker. Which he needed to be for classes, especially if they were meant to be getting harder. Not something he wanted to happen, but something he knew he would have to live with. He knew the classes would not stay as supposedly simple as they were. While he still found it all fairly hard, it would get harder, the colourblind boy knew that for a fact. When the boy spoke again, Stefan looked up. The boy was a 5th year. So quite a bit a head of him, and a prefect. Stefan couldn't help but be a little impressed. The boy introduced himself as Justin. Stefan nodded. "I'm Stefan." He gave a very small smile. "Second year. Slytherin." He felt the need to add his house, since Justin had introduced himself as three things. He could hardly not do the same. But, then again, the Slytherin boy didn't have to. He had, but it wasn't really that necessary. "It's a good read." Stefan added, lifting the book slightly. He didn't know how to talk to this boy. He still could not do conversation well. It was where he really fell down. He looked at the boy and then back to his hands. He pulled on his sleeves. Concious that the boy would be looking at him. And his thin frame was barely hidden by the clothes he wore. "How do you become a prefect?" Stefan asked. he knew he would never be one, but it seemed like a logical question to ask. Considering it probably wasn't completely out of reach.​