|
Post by seriouslysirius on Aug 13, 2011 11:38:44 GMT -5
Sirius, leaning against the heavy wooden door that opened into the corridor, turned the door handle slowly, really slowly, trying not to make too much noise. Of course everything at Hogwarts had to be pre-neolithic, so the door handle, no matter how much he tried to handle it slowly, did a rather loud shrieking sound. Sirius cringed, standing still for a whole minute against the cracked door, listening intently to any noise from outside that meant someone had heard him. Everything was quiet and perfectly still. There seemed to be no one outside.
Sirius decided to check the situation. With his head floating in mid-air, long black hair swinging, he poked his nose round the door. Just to make sure no one was on the floor. " Yep, coast is clear." he said to himself with a little nod. What was he worrying about, no one ever went up the sixth floor, students were banned from here and most of the kids at school wear scared silly to come up here. Well, not Sirius Black. Sirius Black was fearless. He stepped out from behind that door and closed it neatly by leaning his back against it. Raising one foot to prop himself against the door, and imprinting the sole of his big black boots on the polished wood. He tucked his wand away into - wait for it - the side of his raised boot. While many students preferred to keep their wands in their robes, or their pockets, Sirius had his own particular storage place for his lovely wand - his boots. Sirius was very found off both his boots and his wand, so he figured that he might as well keep them together. Sirius fetched some piece of fat folded parchment from the back of his jeans and started unfolding it, turning it this way and that until he finally found the right way up and consulted the brown parchment, running a finger down the length of it, like he was specifically looking for something on the parchment.
Turning the tea stained colored paper this way and that another couple of times, and opening up another couple of folds to reveal an even larger surface of the same parchment, Sirius finally found what he'd been looking for. "Aha!" he exclaimed softly, grinning a little to himself, tapping the blank spot on the parchment with his finger. Now, here was the little area where the sixth floor had to be put. Remus had of course daintily avoided this task as it involved breaking the rules, but Sirius didn't mind that one bit. He was actually pretty interested in completing this part of the map, he wasn't that bad at drawing either. His drawing wasn't as detailed and meticulous as Remus's, but he did quiet a good sketch. Well. At least he would be always better than James at drawing. Sirius snorted a little at the memory of James's drawing abilities. Sirius loved to make fun of them, or rather the lack of, and the gorgeous stick-man James produced.
Whistling tunelessly to himself, Sirius pulled out a quill from his pocket this time and scribbled something on the old tattered fold of parchment, or rather tried to, since the quill wasn’t writing but only scratching the paper to his annoyance. He raised the quill to his mouth and pressed its tip to his tongue, trying to apply some moisture to try and get whatever ink there was left flowing. Pulling a face when the clogged quill inked on his tongue, Sirius went back to taking notes on the large parchment folded into too many folds, sketching what looked like the rough outline of the corridor.
|
|
|
Post by DEVON REDWOOD on Aug 13, 2011 22:00:34 GMT -5
It was after hours, far after hours, but that never stopped a proper Gryffindor. Devon was not known for his grace, but he had become a surprisingly good sneak in his five years at Hogwarts, and had learned several useful tricks for getting around silently. There were passageways that Devon was pretty sure even the professors weren’t aware of. If you went barefoot, your steps would be silent, though of course your feet would get cold. Robes made noise when you walked no matter how slowly you went. Many of these lessons had been learned through trial and error for Devon. He couldn’t count the number of times he had been caught or nearly so before he knew how to be silent and at least mostly invisible.
He utilized everything he knew when he followed Sirius Black.
Devon was a heavy sleeper, but he had been having trouble sleeping lately, his mind wrapping around various things that were happening in his life. He was only fifteen, he reasoned, he shouldn’t be having all this drama yet. He thought that was reserved for sixth and seventh years. Maybe he was just an early bird or something. He was tossing and turning in dismay when he heard the softest of footsteps outside the fifth year dormitories. His roommates were asleep, so it was easy to slip out of his bed, grab a shirt, and follow the solitary figure out. He recognized Sirius even in the darkness and quickly found that the older boy was leaving the dorms illegally. Curious, Devon had made it his mission to find out just where he was going.
He had done well, so far, keeping far enough away from Black to keep from being noticed. He knew closets and alcoves that could be utilized for quick cover, and he knew where shadows fell darkest to hide him, and he knew to keep calm and keep his breathing even to make as little noise as possible. The two of them made it all the way up to the sixth floor this way, and finally Devon was closing in, without even realizing it. He heard the dreadful screech of the ages-old door handle turning. It probably hadn’t been used in a long time, or at least it hadn’t been oiled. Probably a primitive security measure by Filch, though as of yet he hadn’t come running. Devon’s heart was fluttering in his chest and he had to consciously keep his breaths even as he stepped closer to Black. The sixth floor was a mystery to most students, a place where there were no classes and they were forbidden to go. Devon had never been there before, but at the moment didn’t stop to look around. His eyes were on Sirius’s back, and the parchment he was scribbling on.
[/blockquote][/blockquote]
|
|
|
Post by seriouslysirius on Aug 14, 2011 5:04:34 GMT -5
You know that nasty prickly sensation you get on the back of your neck when someone is watching you from behind? Well, Sirius was all of a sudden experiencing it. And it was just abound damn time he did too. Someone had been following him around from the boys Gryffindor dormitory and he hadn't noticed!
Maybe he hadn't felt the prickly sensation earlier because he'd been too busy sneaking around, making sure not to be seen or heard. Avoiding being caught by Filch was an easy game after all these years, but that annoying cat of his was a pain. Also the corridors where dotted with prefects and sometimes professors, so he had to pay some attention to what he was doing. This usually consumed his attention even thought by bow sneaking around was such an easy job for Sirius Black. To sneak around without being caught, was just like a walk in the park on a bright sunny morning eating ice cream and running after the pigeons, that was how much he was good at sneaking around and loved it.
Sneaking around was Sirius's thing - he had made out a skill, an art of it. It came second nature to him, like breathing air. Sneaking around was Sirius Black, and Sirius Black was sneaking around.He just was too absorbed to notice that someone else was sneaking around after him.
But as he leaned against the door, and someone was boring two tiny holes in his back, he had to pause from his scribbling, look up with a "huh" escaping from his lips, and look around, his gray eyes narrowing down in a suspicious manner as he stood stock still, eyes turning left to right.
He thought he saw an odd shape in the shadows on his far right in an alcove. Sirius turned his head towards that direction, his eyes narrowing down even more. He starred a whole minute at the same spot, waiting for whoever that was hiding in there to break under the pressure. They would, he knew.
His gaze stayed fixed on the same point, his hands calmly folding the piece or large parchment in half, than in another half. He didn't want the map to be seen, it was still unfinished and only for the eyes of the marauders. "I know your there, you know" he said, his voice a low growl, pointing the quill straight at whoever was there. It was almost an insult, thinking he wouldn't notice at some point. "Get your ass here now, or I'll come get it myself"
|
|
|
Post by DEVON REDWOOD on Aug 14, 2011 11:55:06 GMT -5
Devon didn’t hold his breath. He knew that it was a sure way to get yourself caught, because people could stare at a spot quite a bit longer than most could keep a lungful in. And of course, letting it out in a big whoosh of air wasn’t quiet in the least, in fact, it was a dead giveaway. So he just kept his breathing steady, his inhales slow and quiet as he waited for – something to happen. Black hadn’t said a thing for a minute, hadn’t moved as far as Devon could tell by the sounds he would have heard. Finally, though, the older boy spoke.
Devon probably shouldn’t have found the threat as funny as he did. Honestly, Sirius was apparently about to “come get his ass”. Surely it was just the wording, but Dev found he wasn’t frightened at all despite the older Gryffindor’s tone. Besides, he reasoned, he had gotten this far without Black noticing. He would probably be impressed, especially when he found out that it was a boy from his own adventurous house who was following him, and not some Prefect or someone meaning to get him into trouble.
With that thought comforting him, he let out a sigh and stepped out from his little hiding place. Black wasn’t pointing his wand at him, that was a good sign. Devon stood there, out in the open, waiting for his senior to recognize him, at least as someone he had seen in passing. He hoped Black recognized him. He had been teased by his brother about idolizing each of the marauders, though Sirius Black was, in a word, his favorite. He was a hit with the ladies, tall, handsome, and had a taste for adventure like no other. He was decent in class, too, and to Devon he seemed practically perfect. To be honest, Devon desperately wanted to be a marauder like the four sixth years, but he would gladly settle with being a friend to them. His hopes were rather high.
As of yet, Devon had no defining markers of being a Gryffindor on his person. He had on a pair of blue flannel pajama pants with the drawstrings pulled tight to keep them up on his skinny hips and a white button-down that was hardly buttoned down at all. It was the closest article of clothing he could find for his top half, and had felt the need to put something on to keep from freezing his arse off wandering the cold corridors. Still, he had nothing on his feet, his toes poking out from under the legs of his pants. In light it could be seen that they were a little blue. Scottish nights and stone hallways were not kind to bare feet, not in the least, but he had at least been silent. Besides, it would have taken too long to get socks or shoes on. He had been on a mission after all.
Naturally, he had no tie and no robes, no badge or even the sweater vests with their gold and red stitching along the collar to say that he was from Sirius’s house. He realized this after a moment, and hoped quite adamantly that Black did recognize him and wouldn’t hex him.
|
|