- Messages
- 84
- OOC First Name
- Pheeb
- Blood Status
- Muggleborn
- Relationship Status
- Too Young to Care
- Wand
- Straight 15 Inch Flexible Aspen Wand with Basilisk Skin Core
- Age
- 07/2047 (12)
Ewan hadn't been sure whether or not to come back after the break. Going back to his home and his grandmother had brought about mixed emotions, and while he'd already spent a good portion of his first year doubting whether or not magic was just a scam, he felt guilty coming back to play dress up and wave around a magic stick, when he should have been at home and doing what he could to help his family and better himself for graduation in his home town. All his friends from primary had moved to secondary, and yet Ewan now had to lie to them too. They had no idea what he was supposed to be capable of, and the more time Ewan spent at Hogwarts, the more he just felt as though he was wasting his time. He knew it was bad when the things he enjoyed most was writing essays.
After his latest History class, he and come downstairs with the intention of grabbing some lunch in the Great Hall, but upon reaching the large wooden doors, the hustle and bustle inside of chattering children, it felt as though he was just looking at some kind of act, a play, a cruel scene that he needed to play out so that he could do what? Go home and not have the basic idea of how to do Math? He wasn't learning anything useful. Backing away from the Great Hall, he turned swiftly on his heel and instead darted back outside into the courtyard, throwing the bag that was over his shoulder off and forcefully to the side into the ground. His books were expensive but so what? They didn't help him. Being here didn't help him. He was just making things more difficult for his future. He let out a loud groan, aware that most people wouldn't even be paying him any attention since they were all too busy learning how to make things hover in the air or whatever else. Pacing in circles, the Gryffindor's eyes kept glancing to the bridge that would take him away from here. Maybe it was just time to go.
After his latest History class, he and come downstairs with the intention of grabbing some lunch in the Great Hall, but upon reaching the large wooden doors, the hustle and bustle inside of chattering children, it felt as though he was just looking at some kind of act, a play, a cruel scene that he needed to play out so that he could do what? Go home and not have the basic idea of how to do Math? He wasn't learning anything useful. Backing away from the Great Hall, he turned swiftly on his heel and instead darted back outside into the courtyard, throwing the bag that was over his shoulder off and forcefully to the side into the ground. His books were expensive but so what? They didn't help him. Being here didn't help him. He was just making things more difficult for his future. He let out a loud groan, aware that most people wouldn't even be paying him any attention since they were all too busy learning how to make things hover in the air or whatever else. Pacing in circles, the Gryffindor's eyes kept glancing to the bridge that would take him away from here. Maybe it was just time to go.