Rebellious Hearts [C]

Another party, another estate. It had begun to seem to Rune that the older that he became, each year that crept ever closer to his eighteenth birthday, the more social events there were that his uncle Dedric would drag him along to. And each seemed identical to the last.

The same haughty names, faces that wore smiles where warmth didn’t quite reach their eyes. Lavish estates that might as well have been just as identical, catered by house-elves that all knew better than to catch the eye of any witch or wizard present. Conversation that somehow always ended on the same topic, what should have been overdone, even boring by that point somehow still stirred up fear, sparked unhealthy fervor. The fear of magical purity being sullied, bred out.

And the dress robes were just an added annoyance. The draping ebony velvet that Rune wore made climbing out of the guest bathroom’s window, the only bathroom located upon the smaller third floor, awkward, clumsy. Fortunately, he wasn’t entirely without experience. Beginning back when he had been an eight-year-old boy, fresh from the Asian continent and his parent’s funerals and forced to climb to “secret places” to get away from his well-meaning but smothering great-uncle. The black alder tree, growing tall, branches hugging tightly to the estate’s side, was much the same as those growing in his uncle’s estate too. Rune used the branches to climb onto the roof, not bothering to shut the window after him.

It was still raining, a cold but consistent downpour. Yet, thanks to having cast the Impervius Charm upon his clothes, himself and a cigarette that he fished out of one of his pockets, the rain did not touch him. Rune needed a moment of quiet, and a breath of not-so-fresh air.

Dedric wasn’t going to be happy. Earlier, engaged in one of his favorite rants, one about the ‘once proud traditions of hogwarts’ being besmirched, he had pulled Rune to his side, a hand clapping down upon his nephew’s shoulder. Simultaneously, forming the statement that Slytherin, now whilst Rune was about to begin his sixth year of studying, was ‘beseeched’ by ‘halfbreeds’ – no. A question, Rune realized as his uncle looked pointedly at him, brows arched, a silent nudging for Rune to confirm.

So Rune had shrugged. ”There’s a few,” he had admitted, hoping that that was all that his uncle expected him to contribute to the conversation. Sadly, it wasn’t.

Halfbreeds were inconveniencing everyone, weren’t they? It was an odd prodding, once which had caused Rune to arch his own brow back at his uncle. Dedric, not discouraged, thought that a specific example would help Rune answer satisfactory. Veelas – a male vela – unable to help themselves from beguiling the unwary, yet no professor thought to take it upon themselves to step in where they should have. ”Heh,” Rune had smirked, despite himself. The picture that his uncle thought to paint had seemed somewhat ridiculous. ”if Slytherin is as full of love-sick idiots as you’re making it sound like, uncle, doesn’t that say more about the house than it does any one veela?” Yet, judging by the soured expression that Dedric suddenly wore, Rune suspected that his wasn’t the response wanted from him.

Dedric’s mood had improved as Rune’s “joking remark” was overlooked, wine sipped. Eventually, Uncle Dedric had told Rune to wait. That there was a ‘charming girl’ who Rune just had to meet, leaving Rune standing beneath the second floor’s chandelier – before Rune had more-or-less escaped to the upstairs bathroom.

No. His uncle was not going to be at all impressed. ”Incendio,” Rune muttered, the tip of his wand directed at the end of his held cigarette. Lighting it, he then pressed the pale stick to his lips, breathing in deeply. Fortunately, Dedric wasn’t likely to suspect that his nephew had climbed out into the rain and onto the roof.