REQUIEM - [h.p]

II; voices

| YEAR 2; CHAPTER TWO |
VOICES

     THE FIRST YEAR SORTING WENT FASTER THAN HE REMEMBERED, though the feast remained just as rowdy. Edwyn briefly spoke to Cedric before they returned to their tables. Cedric was apparently looking for him as well on the train, and it made Edwyn happy to know that he wasn't completely forgotten.

The feast had ended almost as quickly as it had begun, and while Edwyn had spoken with his friends as normal, there was something off in which he couldn't quite put to words. An unspoken discord in their relationship, well his and Draco's to be exact. Perhaps it was because of his relationship with Harry Potter? He couldn't be all too sure, and Edwyn didn't have the courage within himself to ask the other boy. 

Cedric, on the other hand, was doing just fine. The boy had gotten to the train late, and unfortunately just missed Edwyn, though the thought brought him back to that blonde girl he met on the train--Luna Lovegood, was her name. He had remembered it from when he saw her again during the first year sorting. Perhaps he might see her sometime in the halls, unlikely, but it could happen.

As the days passed by, it became common knowledge of Professor Lockhart's ignorance and incapability at actually teaching D.A.D.A. Lockhart, unsurprisingly, was as narcissistic as they come. Every sentence that spewed out of the man's mouth, was a comment of, or was at least alluding to, his supposed greatness and power. Something in which Edwyn knew for a fact was complete and utter bollocks.

Despite the complete disappointment of yet another Defence class, all of Edwyn's other classes remained the same. Snape continued to deduct points from Gryffindor as if his life depended on it, McGonagall with her stern, yet forgiving lessons and kind help, then Mrs Sprout and her love of plants. Flitwick, of course, was just as knowledgeable as always. It was a wonder to Edwyn that the man was once a duelling champion, given his size, but considering the man's formidable repertoire of spells and magical knowledge, it wasn't all that large of a surprise.

Lockhart just seemed to be the one exception to the order.

The evening settled in now, and the small group was heading back to the common room.

"I can't believe we're still stuck with that clown," Blaise lamented. 

"Honestly," Edwyn huffed, "Can you believe that quiz he handed out?"

"That man is a bloody disgrace to wizards," Blaise replied dryly, though after a moment he must have remembered something and he gave a grin. "Hey, Draco, did you see what Greengrass wrote?"

Edwyn's eyes widened a bit and he bit back a laugh. He could still remember Lockhart's face when he read it.

"No?" Draco said. "What was it?"

"Alright, so get this," Blaise gesture with his hands as he began to say, "Remember question seven? The one about his crackpot book? Daphne literally destroyed him. I can't remember exactly what she said, but basically, she told him that he was a useless and disgusting excuse of a wizard and that he'd never be loved in his life, and he knew that because he wouldn't pretend at being a hero otherwise."

Draco was about to say something but paused for a moment. Edwyn assumed he must've been taking a second or two to register what Blaise had said, even Edwyn took a few, since the boy was talking so fast. 

"How in Merlin's name did she not get detention?" Draco eventually asked.

Blaise shrugged, and Edwyn answered. "Probably because he didn't want to acknowledge what she wrote."

Draco chuckled. "Yeah. Come to think of it, she is pretty scary when she wants to be."

 Edwyn's attention was suddenly diverted from Draco when a low, raspy voice echoed from the walls around him. At first, he thought that his ears were playing tricks on him and that the wind simply blew a little too hard outside. It was also entirely possible that it was just his lack of sleep finally catching up with him--to his later chagrin, he decided to spend most of his night reading, and later trying to practice some new transfiguration spells he read in the textbook.