Hell en Pointe | Alastor ✓

chapter 28

Before you knew it, you weee standing in front of Harvard college.

It was an exploding array of towering well-maintained brick buildings, but they were obvious with age, with unremovable dark stains in corners and splatters on walls, tainting the brick, and hard-to-get-rid-of patches of moss rising up in the corners of the buildings.

The air was crisp and fresh, as it was bright and early in the morning (Alastor insisted on waking up early, the old prick), and as the wind whipped softly against your skin you shivered. It was dewy and wet, although it was only autumn.

The iron words Harvard College looked in front of you at the entrance, surrounded by a characteristic brick barrier surrounding the campus. Trees were sparse, from what you could see on the inside, but they were still present, with vermillion and burgundy leaves bursting from the trees with decay and desiccation.

"Do we just..." you began, holding a hand over your arm, tightening as another breeze wafted through the air. "...walk in?"

"Yep!" Alastor exclaimed cheerfully, folding his hands behind his back and putting one foot in front of the other and strolling in like he owned the place. You followed him.

A few students were roaming around, but not many, most, you could assume, in class or at the library or still asleep. You and Alastor navigated through the winding pathways, chattering mindlessly to yourselves as you awaited to stumble upon a building that looked like a very big, important library.

"Do you know where you're going?" you asked, looking around a little nervously. Vox and Valentino could be anywhere.

"No," he said plainly.

"Not at all?"

"No."

"This is a pretty big campus."

"You've got a pretty big mouth, my dear."

Damn.

"Fuck you," you retorted.

"Thank you," Alastor replied, paying you no mind.

"Wellllllcome-!" A new voice interrupted you. You jumped in shock.

"Holy shit, sugar, where did you come from...?" you muttered unintelligibly.

"-to Harvard College!" The stranger said kindly, waving around a pamphlet. He had dirty blond hair and a bright, cheerful smile. He wore casual attire and looked to be an older student, if one at all.

"Who are you?" you said suspiciously.

"My name is Aiden, and you are lucky to find me!" he exclaimed in excitement, doing a little jig. He seemed to always be twitching or moving. How could someone have this much energy at eight-thirty in the morning? Was he on coke? "I am your tour guide!"

Aiden sprung to your side, interlocking your arm with his, his lively energy making you a little ill.

"Ah-ha," Alastor interjected, clearing his throat and smiling broadly. He tilted his head. "We're not new here. In fact, we are third year students—" Alastor swiftly found himself by your side, prying your frozen body away from 'Aiden's. "—so we must be on our way now! Toodaloo!" He waved, trying to pull you away, but was stopped.

"Oh, really?!" said Aiden socially, jogging to catch back up. When he did, he remained in his jog as Alastor walked at a calm pace, dragging you along. "Me too. Do we know each other? I have an eleven-fifteen with Faulkner. You know him? Advanced Bio?"

You could see Alastor's eye twitch.

"No," Alastor said as serenely as possible. "I do not."

"Well, you speak so formal! Are you from England by any chance?" said Aiden, bouncing around so much you were getting a headache. Ugh. Just fuck off already, kid. "No, can't be. You don't have the accent. You sound, like, really old. Ooh, ooh! Are you a time traveler? I've always wanted to meet—"