Hogwarts was close to an end, and Maia Korin felt time slipping through her fingers, each moment a reminder of what would soon be memories.
The halls that had been her home for seven years seemed to echo with the whispers of farewells. Leaving behi...
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The pale winter light filtering through the towering bookcases casted long, slender shadows on the intricately marbled floor. Rows upon rows of shelves, packed with books from floor to ceiling, lined the vast room.
Upon entering, Maia was greeted by the familiar scent of aged parchment. She moved cautiously, mindful of every footstep, the soft echo of her footsteps reverberating like whispered secrets in the hallowed space, knowing that even a whisper would attract the stern attention of Madame Pince.
As Maia passed the librarian's desk stationed at the head of the entrance, Madame Pince's gaze seemed to bore into her. Maia offered a brief, subdued smile, offered in peace, it was a futile attempt to soften the librarian's stern demeanor before slipping past the bookshelves and out of sight.
She traced her fingers along the delicate spines of the books, her touch light as if the books would crack under too much pressure, taking measured steps until a title caught her eye.
It had been ages since Maia had touched a book that wasn't dictated by her classes; seventh year meant seven times the workload that she had to work through; and with the NEWTs looming behind her, she couldn't afford any distractions that might throw her off course.
Approaching a table, Maia noticed a hunched figure, a head of mousy brown hair seemingly sheltering him from the soft morning light streaming through a nearby window. It had bathed the stranger with a divine glow that contrasted the sharp shadows brought by the surrounding shelves.
Curiosity drew her closer, and she opted to join the stranger, knowing the length of the table would provide enough space between them; a balancing act between her desire for company and respect for the solitude that the library offered.
She quietly pulled out a chair, its surface cool under her touch, and gently placed the book she had chosen on the table. Careful not to disturb the sleeping stranger, she settled in and turned her attention to the letters littering the open pages.
From her vantage point, she couldn't help but observe the light that softly illuminated the boy across from her. His features looked almost ethereal, and she noticed scars tracing his slender fingers that cradled his head.
Mentally chiding herself for these intrusive thoughts that were no doubt creeping her out, Maia shifted her focus back to her book, trying to immerse herself in the words.
However, the tranquil environment and the cozy mix of cool air and ambient warmth from within the library walls soon lulled her into a gentle doze.
Maia was now a victim to the comfort of the space, surrendered to the library's timeless spell, where hours passed like minutes, minutes blurring into seconds.
She was abruptly awakened by a stern cough. Looking up, she saw that the room light had been overshadowed by the moon casting its glow through the windows. Madame Pince stood over her, she had this expression that almost brought Maia to laughter if it weren't for the suddenness of the situation.
Her face was pinched, and it had looked like her pointy nose drew her other features together in a sort of messed up mix, cat eyed frames slipping down the slope of her nose.
"I'm so sorry," Maia blurted out, her voice tinged with embarrassment and a sense of haziness.
She hastily stood, gathering her belongings, and feeling a drag of fabric across her arm; but Madame Pince had already snatched the book from her grasp and was walking away, the sound of her kitten heels clacking echoed in the quiet library.
As Maia made a move to leave, her foot caught on something. Snapping her gaze downwards, she caught sight of a wool cardigan discarded on the floor.
It wasn't hers, and for a fleeting moment, she pictured Madame Pince wearing it against her balloon dress, which brought a reluctant grin to her face.
She bent to pick up the tattered and worn out garment. The soft fabric had been infused with the comforting scents of parchment, chocolate, and a scent that she couldn't discern.
Grasping it between her fingers, she felt a warmth that seemed to fend off even the chilliest of the winter drafts, wrapping her in a blanket of familiar, yet unknown, comfort.
Maia chuckled, the soft sound rebelling against the silent countenance of the library, "Imagine if it was from her."
Draping the cardigan against her arm, she couldn't help but think back to the boy she had once encountered. She could vaguely discern his clothes as her mind had been distracted by the details that seemed to reveal on his skin.
Maia, leaving the warmth of the library, felt the sting of the cold winter air immediately. Her breath formed small puffs of air as she exhaled, floating away into the night akin soft whispers. The cardigan draped over her arm offered her a defense against the cold, but it was the beauty of the night that truly captivated her, making the cold almost welcome.
Maia observed the full moon that had forged itself against the night sky, bathing her path with a silvery glow.
As she stepped out the corridors, the crunch of her footsteps on the crisp snow punctuated the atmosphere, the sound crisp and startling in the otherwise hushed landscape.
A howl, barely audible, echoed through the school's halls, prompting her to turn her head towards the sound. And she believed she wasn't anything if she weren't curious.
Maia turned, trudging towards the school's outskirts, the faint howl that had woven through the silent halls catching her attention. Curiosity had sparked within her, a trait that often led her down paths holding uncertainty.
She had been drawn to the sound, as if it held a mystery that will quench her thirst for excitement. Her chest pounded with a mix of excitement and a slight twinge of apprehension as she neared the source of the sound.
A smile stretched across Maia's face as she swept her curls forward to shield her ears from the nipping cold, the strands gently grazing her snow-kissed cheeks.
As she navigated through the last corridor, stepping into the expansive field that lay just beyond the school, the moment had been abruptly shattered. A sudden yank on the sleeve of her jumper dragged her off to the side, eliciting a sharp, involuntary scream from her chest.
