REQUIEM - [h.p]

III; the small things

| YEAR 3; CHAPTER ELEVEN |
THE SMALL THINGS

     THE ROOM HAD A DISORDERED AND CHAOTIC VITALITY TO IT, It brought a wave of nostalgia from the first time he had visited the headmaster's office.

Three years had already passed since the first time he arrived here, it was definitely strange to wrap his head around, and Edwyn was reeling at the revelation of how quickly time had passed by. Inclining his head slightly, Edwyn eyed the bookcase lying at the side of the room. Surely it wouldn't hurt to take a peek, would it? Still, Dumbledore has not arrived yet, and Edwyn had an inkling the headmaster wouldn't arrive for a while, most likely busy attending to the press that had flocked over like sharks at the first whiff of blood. 

The thought brought forth a wave of disgust and rightful anger, and Edwyn shook his head. Two students nearly died. His friends had nearly fallen to their deaths. Even knowing this, all the reporters continued to waltz around in hopes of getting a quote from the Boy Who Lived, complete apathy against the possible trauma or injuries Harry might have and might still be facing. They hadn't even acknowledged Cedric, only interested in—Edwyn stopped his train of thought. His mind was getting off track, and Edwyn sighed through his nose to quell his rising temper and smooth out his racing mind.

Once everything seemed to fit neatly back in place within his mind's walls, Edwyn glanced back toward the bookshelf against the wall. No, he didn't think it would hurt at all. Though he was mindful of the watching eye locked on him as he moved across the room, he had an increasing suspicion that the old man hadn't taken his eyes off him since he first found him outside the quidditch field. It was an uncomfortable thought, though the fact that the man had barely spoken since then was even more discomforting. Even though Edwyn tried not to outwardly show his uneasiness at the man's behaviour—a decision born from his own pride and stubbornness than out of any maliciousness—his body felt stiff and non-compliant with his brain as he strode past the curious trinkets and objects laid about haphazardly within the headmaster's office. 

Perhaps if there was still time, he might get the chance to take a deeper look through the curiosities presented. Though for now, he was incredibly curious at what the headmaster had on his bookshelf, his memory of his last visit was incredibly hazy and Edwyn couldn't even recall a single title from his first tour of the books. 

He hesitantly glanced back toward the hulking figure behind him, but when he didn't sense any danger or increased agitation from the other man, he went back to perusing the shelf. 

Without even a glance as to what he had grabbed, Edwyn opened to a page somewhere in the middle of the book.

'God forbid that Achilles sees me turning tail,

Heading from town and out to open country -
He'll come after me full tilt and run me down!
And then no way to escape my death, my certain doom -
Achilles is far too strong for any man on earth.
Wait... what if I face him out before the walls?
Surely his body can be pierced by bronze, even his -
He has only one life, and people say he's mortal: