Axis Mundi [HP]

CH 3 [Everything]

It seems that no matter the time and place you attend it, school is school. You come in, mind clouded with despair and the remanence of sleep, sit down like a good little dog for a couple of hours, and then you leave.

The British school Acher attended wasn't much different from the Slovakian one Rene had to go to. On the contrary, he was hit with a potent dose of nostalgia upon being assigned his seat on the first day. A quaint little place next to the window, not unlike the one he had to sit in in his previous life.

The uniforms were awful though and also a new thing for him. A white blouse and a scratchy pair of grey pants, also a pair of shorts for the summer. Unfortunately in the same color and of the same dreadful texture that made him scratch his skin raw during class.

To Acher's annoyance, his peculiar reputation carried over from kindergarten into his new school. Thus he got quite a few skeptical looks from his new teachers, particularly his English teacher that watched him like a hawk every time he interacted with other students. So in some fickle attempt at fixing his own image, he made himself as unassuming and nonthreatening as possible. His days were mostly spent looking out the window and gazing wistfully into the clouds, pretending like he was some brooding anime protagonist. He did his work. Begrudgingly of course. Though the higher-level material actually sometimes succeeded at keeping his attention.

During his time at school, he also expanded his social circle. Well. More like bird circle.

He talked to birds. A lot. Like a lot a lot. Probably more than he talked to humans.

Doves, ravens, crows, sparrows, pigeons. He wasn't picky about who he would talk to.

The sparrow he met before which he affectionately named Malý Rytier also kept by his side. His favorite place was right at the top of Archer's head, nestled in the wild mounds of the boy's locks that he would sometimes pluck out to decorate his nest with.

The blond would leave the school grounds right after class and settle in the abandoned playground, placing himself on the rusted swing. Then he would reach out his hand and without fail, a bird would swoop down in a flurry of feathers, hooking their long claws over his thin blouse and brushing them over his browned skin. Then they relayed. Everything the eyes of the sky saw during short nights and long clouded days. They spoke of the warm and colorful plains of India, Russian forests encased in snow, the humid air of red Brazil, and of Britain of course. Painting a picture of Sailsbury as seen from above the clouds and at the tops of tree branches.

The birds didn't need to be coaxed into speaking, as their entire kind rather loved hearing the sound of their own voice. Some of them were a bit picker though, sometimes requesting a strand of hair from his head or a sunflower seed. He didn't mind, he had more hair than one could consider comfortable.

The crows especially seemed to love Acher or rather, again, his hair. They spoke of sunlight when they saw him, bestowing upon him gifts of bottle caps, glass containers, and jeweled hairpins that he took with utmost gratitude.

After he established his ever-expanding circle of friends he asked them about wizards. Particularly ones in Sailsbury and was immediately flooded with dissapointenment upon hearing that; there weren't many in his area. The highest number was of course in London, where you didn't have to look very hard to spot a wizard. They paraded around in their spiked hats and weird clothing as if forgetting they were at the scrutiny of muggles. Some of them had a big enough brain to cast a notice-me-not on themselves before leaving their house. That spell fortunately did not work as well on birds as it did on people.

There wasn't much to report on as Acher was, for now, living at a time of relative peace. For both the wizarding world and the muggle one which was now slowly unwinding from the strain of World War II. He got lucky in that sense, in both his previous and current life.