【кετรยεкí】ωιzαя∂ ℓσvε【Venom-chan】

[Rowlet]

His ethereal eagle squawked, alerting Arion. He whipped his head back, wand raised. His gentle expression shattered. He slipped back into his signature mask. His eyes noticed a familiar blonde. A scowl carved into his expression. With a flick of his wrist, his Patronus vanished. He rose from his spot, peering at Adrian. He clutched his wand tightly. "Have you came here to blame me?" he sneered. He fortified his defenses. Arion refused to lower his guard.

"Were you spying on me Abbot?" Arion demanded. His eyes narrowed into slits. Despite his short height, he stood firm. Anger bubbled inside his chest. He wasn't in the mood for a shouting match. He wanted to be alone. After he entered Hogwarts, he will be ridiculed for McCray's punishment.

 

[Venom-chan]

Adrian manged to stand as the Patronus vanished and Arion whipped around. He glanced around, Could he run for it? Probably not as far as the castle was without being identified. He didn't pull out his wand, and just looked as Arion rose his walls. { Oh. } He felt bad that he had broken Arion's moment of peace. "Uh," He glanced around again. "No. I haven't..." { I didn't mean to follow him. }

He looked down. "It, um, certainly looks that way doesn't it?" Adrian asked and looked back up. "But No, I wasn't... I just..."

 

[Rowlet]

A deeper scowl carved into his expression. Adrian wasn't even a threat. He witnessed Adrian's progress in school. It was pathetic. A sigh escaped his lips. He massaged his forehead. A migraine was forming, piercing through his skull. His hand instinctively brushed against the back of his head, around the spot that connected against the wall. "It would of been easier if I wasn't born," he muttered. He lowered his wand, returning to his spot. He didn't have the energy to hex Adrian. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing back his unruly bangs. "I'm sure everyone thinks that," he growled bitterly. Arion lifted his wand and held it in front of him. "Flagrate," he recited. Sparks emitted from his wand. He wrote his name in the air, copying Tom Riddle, whom used the same method when he introduced himself to Harry Potter in his second year. His name floated in the air, crackling from the sparks. "When you Gryffindor look at me, you only see my father. I never even liked that man. I hate him," he murmured.

 

[Venom-chan]

Adrian worked hard in school, it's just.... Magic didn't come easily to him. He wouldn't let them know it, or at least, He tried. "No, It wouldn't." He stepped closer, He knew the feeling. He was... He's been told that before. "You know, It might seem like that but...." He trailed off for a moment. "It wouldn't." He didn't want Arion to do something stupid and hurt himself. He watched the fire form from a wand, and his name. "I don't, you know? I never even heard about the war until History class, and I don't pay attention in there anyway."

 

[Rowlet]

"I don't, you know?..."

A scoff escaped his lips. "That's a common case for most Muggleborn," he pointed out. He wrote his father's name next to his, watching as the flames crackled. His heart twisted painfully. He curled his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his chin on top of his knees. He clutching his wand with his right hand. He observed the flames, staring at the two names. "Aren't you afraid of your precious reputation? If someone spotted you talking to me like this, you would be ridiculed. I'm sure you wouldn't want that, now would you? That's why you never did anything when you watched me being tortured," he muttered. A few minutes later, both names dissipated. Arion lifted his wand and inspected it. His expression remained neutral. He refused to reveal his inner turmoil to a Gryffindor. "My father killed for the sake of his Lord. He didn't care who it was. It could of been a Muggle or a fellow Pureblood. He would of done anything to gain his Lord's acceptance," he murmured. He gritted his teeth in aggravation. "I was't the one that killed those innocent people. Your House is bent on thinking I would become the next Voldemort," he growled. He whipped his head back and glowered at Adrian.

"I'm not a weak damsel, Abbot. If you think you're going to give me sympathy, I'll hex you until next month," he threatened. He fortified his defenses. Despite his pain, he didn't want to appear weak. He loathed feeling vulnerable.