Whispers in the Shadows || Slytherin Boys

shadows in the sunlight

The morning sun still filtered gently through the tall, arched windows of the library, casting pale golden rectangles across the polished wood floor. Dust motes danced in the light, lazy and unbothered, swirling in the quiet hush that only the early hours in the castle could bring. I sat curled up in a corner nook, nestled into one of the window seats with a wool blanket draped over my knees, my Muggle Studies textbook propped open in front of me and a half-scribbled page of parchment balanced on a hardback beneath it. A steaming mug of tea rested on the windowsill beside me, untouched and cooling.

Despite the peacefulness of the moment, I wasn't focusing at all.

I was supposed to be summarizing the differences between mechanical and electronic typewriters, something Professor Burbage insisted we understand in excruciating detail. "The evolution of mundane communication," she'd said with great enthusiasm, "is crucial to understanding the modern Muggle world." I knew she was right - well, academically - but my brain had no intention of cooperating.

The word "typebar" stared at me from the open page, underlined three times, as if it alone would trigger some burst of inspiration. I sighed and dipped my quill in ink again, scratching out a sentence in my loopy handwriting:

"Unlike electronic typewriters, which rely on circuit-based memory to register keystrokes, mechanical typewriters use a direct striking mechanism..."

I trailed off. My mind wasn't on typewriters. It hadn't been since breakfast.

All I could think about was the date.

Saturday. Hogsmeade. Butterbeer. Felix.

I smiled without meaning to, twisting the quill between my fingers. I'd told myself I wasn't going to make a big deal out of it - that it was just a casual outing, nothing grand. But the truth was, I hadn't stopped thinking about it since I'd said yes yesterday. I'd never had a real first date before. Not like this. Not something kind and slow and safe.

And thanks to Kai's endless teasing earlier this morning... I'd started actually wondering what I'd wear. Which coat? What shoes? Hair up or down? It was ridiculous, probably, but I hadn't felt this kind of nervous excitement in ages. It warmed me from the inside out, soft and sweet, like the sun spilling across my legs now.

Still, I forced myself to glance back at the textbook. Focus, Cat.

I scanned the next paragraph, letting the words wash over me. Something about IBM machines and daisy wheels. I jotted down a line, my quill scratching against the parchment. My handwriting was getting messier by the minute.

"In the late 20th century, the IBM Selectric series revolutionized Muggle word processing..."

My eyes glazed over again. I set the quill down and rubbed my forehead, pushing my hair back with both hands. I felt the corners of my lips tug upward again before I could stop them. I was going on a date. And not just with anyone random - Felix. Sweet, thoughtful, always-listens-even-when-you're-rambling Felix.

Ugh. No wonder I couldn't focus.

The soft rustle of pages and distant creak of shelves filled the air. Somewhere deeper in the library, Madam Pince was scolding someone for returning a book in the wrong section, her voice sharp and offended, as usual. Other than that, the place was nearly empty. The morning hours were a sanctuary, especially during free periods. Most students chose to sleep in or linger over breakfast in the Great Hall. I liked the silence, though - normally, anyway.

I adjusted the blanket on my knees and pulled the textbook closer, letting my fingers trail along the smooth page edges.

I forced myself to try again, rereading the section I'd just written, but it all looked like scribbled nonsense now. My brain simply refused to cooperate.