𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐈

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The tall boy tripped on what appeared to be nothing and fell directly forwards on his face with a loud 'thunk'. It sounded rather like someone had slapped a walrus with a raw chicken.

The Great Hall was filled with laughter and jeers from the students, gawking at the sudden face plant. Little spoiled shit's soon to turn bully licked their lips. This one seemed like easy pickings.

He lay there, nose crunched against the stone floor, inhaling dust with his eyes closed. Maybe if he laid still then the laughter would become like white noise in the background. Maybe it would lull him to sleep. Ah. That's what he had forgotten to do last night, he realized. Sleep. He was always forgetting to do that, transforming him into a zombie-like creature as a result. His mother was constantly reminding him that he needed more than two hours of sleep every night to survive. He thought it was quite bold of her to assume that he wanted to.

"Um, are you alright?" A voice that sounded like it had been ripped from the voice box of an angel spoke out to him.

He sighed and lifted his head as though it weighed a ton, chin biting into the floor.

Two tiny, dark knees jutted out at him and he looked up at a girl wearing two thick braids, a worried expression and Hufflepuff robes.

She reached for his arm and hefted him up on to his elbows.

"Up we go now."

He stared at her for a moment, dark hair falling over his equally dark eyes. She smiled, warm and full like she was honestly glad to see he hadn't broken his face with that fall. He thought she must have been some kind of mirage or artificially made creation, born with the intent to be so completely pure it hurt. He frowned. That was stupid a thought, rolling on to his back.

"I'm fine here."

"In the middle of the walkway?" The small girl frowned.

"It's comfy."

"Um, but it's stone?"

"I heard that laying on hard surfaces might be good for straightening curves in the spine. You know. Like, scoliosis and stuff."

"Oh." The girl cocked her head to one side like a puppy with grown-up, adult questions to pose to the idiot laying on the floor. "Do you have scoliosis, then?"

"Nope."

She blinked at him, quite unsure what to say next.

"Is he alright?" Came a new voice.

A brunette girl with cheeks that looked softer them marshmallows leaned back off the bench slightly to glance down at him. He most certainly had the urge to squish them between his fingers. But that would mean standing up and standing up would mean moving. It hadn't yet occurred to his sleep-deprived brain that grabbing the face of a total stranger simply because their cheeks looked soft and squishy like a marshmallow was likely to get him throttled.

"I think he might have hurt his head." The first girl bit her lip concern.

"I'm just stretching out my spine." He explained. "Don't mind me."

"You sure?" The marshmallow girl arched a brow at him. "Because several hundred teachers and students just watched your face get firmly acquainted with the floor."

"Well, I didn't see it."

"But you did see the floor and that's my point."

"Had my eyes closed the whole time."

He felt a sudden kick against his right foot and glanced down at it.

Another boy in Hufflepuff robes nudged at his foot impatiently. He had dark blond curls, heavy knee-high boots and an intimidating aura.

𝐇𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐔𝐅𝐅'𝐒; 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐘Where stories live. Discover now