Assecula || Sebastian Sallow & Ominis Gaunt Polyam.

Chapter Two ; Canary

"You can't hide here forever. You will miss class."

Rowan was half tempted to try, just to see what would happen if they did miss their first parchment roll of scribbled class notes and begrudging classmates. They had made it known to Fig multiple times throughout their stay with the man that if given the chance, they' have avoided going to Hogwarts altogether. It was only the promise of knowledge free of charge that eventually lured them out from beneath their bed covers only mere weeks before their departure. Deep down they knew that despite Fig's pleasantries, they'd truly have no choice in their education. It was a strange marvel to behold. Most children from gutters and grievances would have given the world and then some just to be able to spell their name, and yet when given the promise of all that and more Rowan had the gall to hesitate.

There were always strings attached, Rowan had reminded themselves stubbornly. Hogwarts must have been a cage, no matter how gilded and marvellous, to all of its students. They hadn't yet uncovered just how it worked but they were determined to see it as such.

Still, the promise of knowledge, no matter the price, was a temptress that snaked itself across their shoulders and whispered silken promises into the pockets of their sequestered curiosity.

Fuck it.

Rowan ran a final hand through their hair to get it into some semblance of perfectionist grace and was left wanting when their ever-present cowlick made itself stubbornly known. They tried twice more to fix it before ultimately letting their qualms rest as they began to make their way from the dorms. They left one gloved hand shakily gripping an ornate cane, and the other hovering above their stomach - flexing experimentally in a desperate need to hold something. Residual habits that'd yet to fully trickle out of their system as they stood at the bottom of the stairs.

There were simultaneously too many students and yet nowhere near the amount that Rowan had prepared themselves for. An involuntary breath left their chest in one fell swoop as they steadied their nerves.

This was fine.

Everything was fine.

While Rowan did valiantly attempt to turn an immediate tail at the sight of so many of their soon-to-be-peers, the traitorous parasite coiled betwixt their broken bones jolted them back into the fray just as fast.

"Frolic."

Rowan ought to learn a banishment charm just to see what would happen to the Obscurus attached to them by the hip.

Begrudgingly, Rowan made their way into the sparse groups that'd tucked themselves into matching sets. Each student had their own flock to return to, and Rowan began categorising them as such when they finally stood back to watch their peers exist. It was easier to approach people when they knew what to expect. More often than not, Rowan's mannerisms had been picked up like mismatched dominoes from another person's pocket. They were an arrangement of patchwork ornaments on a wilting tree the Madame put up for a single Christmas alone. They picked up speech patterns from the lazily kept conversations overheard on docks, and mimicked the regal posture Fig often held when he realised Rowan was staring - like he was trying to put the cracked parts of himself back together. Shoulders squared, breath held, hands folded...

Rowan mimicked.

That seemed to be all that they were capable of as they finally made a daring approach to the lone boy pacing back and forth before the blazing fireplace.

He was a head taller than Rowan, with thick brown curls and a mottled array of freckles smeared across his ruddy cheeks. His eyes were dark like Rowen's - the kind no one liked to sing their sonnets about - though his were a dozen shades lighter with fleckings of olive encircling his pupil.