Intelligent Boys [SeventhyearRavvies]

[damien]

Moving slowly up the staircase, he trailed one hand over the stone as he went, thinking back to the day with a slight sigh. He had managed to meet up with Vivianne in one of the empty classrooms they had found few people passed, in between lunch and dinner, and a little while after, but as always, having these meetings with her made him both happy and bitter. On the one hand, he got to spend time with Vivi, something that he was beginning to love more and more. Having somebody who made you feel like you were on top of the world, somebody who actually understood you, and knew you; who wouldn’t love spending time with that person? To Damien, it was one of the greatest things that had ever happened to him (maybe even THE greatest), meeting Vivi. Especially because, for seven years, he had held this secret to himself, about his father, and suddenly he had somebody who would listen and care and kiss him to make it better.

It was the kisses, though, that also made these meetings slightly bitter in his mind. He didn't want to be a pig, but he honestly couldn't help...wanting her. What was there not to want, yeah? The closer and closer they got to the dance, it seemed the more the two of them would kiss, and end up getting things quite heated before having to shut it all down so that they could wait for the night of the dance. Damien wanted to wait, and he wanted to make it special for Vivi, but every time they saw each other, one thing led to another and then they both ended up a bit frustrated. Today hadn't been much different, and of all things, a classroom was not the most comfortable of places to snog your girlfriend.

Dey sighed again as he made it to his dorm room, opening the door and moving inside, not looking around as he made his way to the far wall where his bed rested, tossing his robes into his open trunk. Thankfully, they had taken care of their physical appearances back in the classroom--namely, fixing their hair, clothes, and doing something about those damn swollen lips. Damien straightened and stretched his hands over his head, his back making a soft popping noise as he looked around, realizing after a moment that he wasn't alone. One of his dorm mates, Louis Weasley, was sitting on his bed and writing something. Immediately, Dey fixed a small smile onto his face like he always did around the boys he shared a room with. He wasn't close to any of them, as they didn't know and couldn't know anything about him, but he didn't really mind their company. Not always, anyways.

Instead of starting a conversation, Damien turned back to his trunk and picked up his robes, fishing out his wand from the pocket and tossing it onto his bed. He folded the clothes and placed them carefully into his trunk before grabbing a pair of pajama bottom and a blue t-shirt. Moving towards the wall, he turned so that his back wasn't visible, before plopping his pajamas onto the bed. He reached up and loosened his tie, setting it aside before slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He stripped it off and quickly tugged on his blue t-shirt, before changing into the pajama pants too. All the while he said nothing, changing and folding his clothes preferably in silence. Finally, after everything was put away, he plopped down onto the bed and leaned back into the headboard, picking up his wand and fiddling with it as he looked over at Louis.

Not one to break silence, he looked away again and picked up a book from his bed side table, opening it and setting it on his lap. Louis was probably the most interesting of all the boys in their dorm, at least in Damien's own opinion. The boy definitely wasn't all he seemed to be, something that was always intriguing to Ravenclaws. Having roomed together for seven years, it was impossible not to have picked up that the other seventh year didn't get to sleep until late, and when he did manage to fall asleep, he was plagued with nightmares. Louis had been witness to very many sneak outs on Dey's part, the number of which had doubled this year with spying and going to see Vivi. Mostly, though, the boys knew to leave him alone about anything personal.

Blinking, Damien realized he had been zoning, vaguely looking up at Louis again. His ears reddened in embarrassment at himself as he jerked his gaze back to the ancient runes book he had in his lap.

[.LOUIS HENRI WEASLEY !]

Victoire,

Louis picked up his quill from the page, watching curiously as the ink dripped from the nib. It splashed onto the page with a little tic, and, nonplussed, Louis looked out the open window. Snow was coming down hard, in flakes as big as the tip of his thumb; it swirled into the window where the warm air drew it in, into Louis's face and hair and bare chest as he sat with his feet out in the air, comfortably seated in the window seat. Goosebumps covered his skin and he shivered, snow catching in his hair and the hollow of his collar bone. It chilled him but he loved it. It was so clean and so pure, so purposeful in its intent to land on the ground far below but yet willing to go where the wind took it. Louis admired the white flakes, leaning forward dangerously to catch one on his red tongue. The rest of his coloring paled to join the white of the outdoors, his skin almost taking a blueish hue in the gray light. His eyes were an icy blue and his lips chapped and red, his hair a pale gold that looked almost frosted. He loved the cold, the way it made him feel, the way it made him look. He could get lost in it and never have to worry about anything; its chill froze memories but made him think clearly. He was free to dwell on good things only.

Bon soir, ma soeur. It's getting dark as I write this and it's snowing again. Flakes landed on his page and skittered across the parchment, leaving trails of water that made his ink run. It didn't bother him, he'd fix i later. Right now he was content to mind only his happy letter and revel in the winter scene before him.

He went on for a few more lines, face emotionless and freezing to the touch. He looked up to breath in deeply, his shoulders moving and chest expanding to make room for the inrush of air. It seared his throat better than any firewhisky, and instead of fogging his mind like the drink, sharpened it tenfold. He did his best thinking around this time of year, his Ravenclaw mind buzzing with the precision of the most intricate clockwork. He knew his roommates thought it odd of him, and Louis mentioned it in his letter, smiling a hint.

Luckily none of my roommates are up here right now or they'd be whining for me to close the window... Louis kicked his feet, hitting the stone outside of the castle. His Muggle jeans were soaked now with cold snow and he couldn't feel his feet anymore. A few more lines into his letter and Louis decided it would probably be best not to get frostbite, no matter how exhilarating the weather was right now.

Silently Louis capped his ink pot and set his letter and quill beside him on the window seat. Folding his legs he turned back into his dorm room, setting his feet on the ground gingerly and grimacing at the change of temperature. His skin burned as feeling rushed back, every nerve tingling as if for the first time. He sucked air as he put his weight down and stood up, not enjoying the transition from cold to warm. But quickly leaned over and shut the window anyway, effectively sealing the winter out.

The fronts of his jeans were frozen stiff, soaked by the snowflakes then dried by the bitter wind. He tore them off quickly as he was still alone in the room, changing instead into a pair of flannel pajama pants and covering his torso with a too-large hooded sweatshirt that read in bold letters MERLIN'S BEARD! It was one of his favorite bands and the merch hoodie was worn comfortably with frequent use. He flicked the hood over the wet hair that clung to his forehead, no longer a bright blond but darked with water. Louis gathered his letter and writing things from the window, padded the few steps over to his four-poster and sat on top of the covers.

I really just wanted to write you about the Yule Ball. He continued in his letter to his sister, brow furrowing with each line he wrote. Soon he remembered his meeting with the intriguing sixth year Ravenclaw from earlier that day, but berated himself for connecting Ruth with the Yule Ball. Louis picked up his quill quickly, stopping himself from tracing his thoughts onto paper.

Ruth Burrow he had almost written, there's something about her.

The door suddenly swung open and one of Louis's roommates entered. Damien glanced at him and Louis nodded back, though he knew Dey wasn't about to make conversation. Louis frowned down at the letter and at the sudden thought of Damien, too. Haphazardly he wrote out a few more lines in his precise handwriting, ending his letter with Avec tout mon amour, or With all my love, Louis.

Sounds of Damien getting changed over in his bit of the room prompted Louis to keep his head down, and he played for time by winding it up slowly. «Vient ici, Leroux,» he yipped as his raven cawed and hopped from his ominous perch in the beams of their ceiling. «Prend ceci à Victoire, oui?» Leroux took off after Louis attached the letter to his leg and opened the window again, a black spot in the swirling white of the snow.

Back on his bed (and the window once again closed), Louis put his writing things on his nightstand and considered the boy who stared blankly back at. He must have been thinking very deeply, as Louis smiled at him and Dey didn't budge. Was he alright? "Damien," he called, in English this time, "you alright?" Louis asked, pulling his long sleeves over his hands. He wondered briefly if Dey was tired enough to fall straight asleep tonight or not - Louis was jazzed right now so he knew he wasn't going to sleep if he could help it. Quite normally the two of them would just lay awake until utter exhaustion claimed them, and then it was a dreamless sleep. The only kind he could take. Was it going to be one of those nights again?

---

lucy, i apologize if the french is atrocious!