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[villainvrs]

1x1

edric blight + villainvrs

close to you

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[villainvrs]

briar hayes

# momma's boy.

♡coded by uxie♡

He can hear the clock again.

He can hear the wheels and the metal, the scratchy and unkind sound that winds up repeating for another thousand time. It never changes, spins again and again. Each splinter it gets, each rust spot it grows, it ignores. The clock continues to tick, the wheels continue to spin and the sound continues to grow and grow. It grows closer each year, the opposite to the moon, he who shines just white and small, he who smiles only half and he who is just another sun, he who leaves the earth just a little bit each year. The clock, the ticking, it grows uncomfortably close, like weed at the flooded corner of the street. The sun who will grow and the moon who will shine, but he will only hear the clock.

There was a certain cold in the air, lingering over the town despite its still summery atmosphere. The sun was shining high, wind carrying a certain shivering breeze, strong enough to force the inhabitants of London to wear a light jacket over their usually light clothes. Even with the peculiar weather, most of the town was outside and bathing under the sun, children playing in the streets and filling the air with a full and lively feeling.

In the heart of London, north end's very own shining beacon, stood the Big Ben in all its glory. Its single eye seemed to taunt Briar from a distance, a spotlight slicing through the space between him and Kings Cross. Time seems to slow down around him, the weight of his oversized robes the only thing keeping him from walking off the curb and into oncoming traffic. Thick pools of fabric anchored him in place, sneakers scuffing the sidewalk as his mother busied herself unloading his bags from the back of their run-down Vauxhall Frontera. Cracked leather and sticky velvet floors, his mother's hand-me-down from her father, and once he was old enough to drive— eventually Briar's. ( It was the only thing that was fully her's, the one thing her ex-husband let her have in the divorce. )

The clock chimes at the top of the hour, a boom so loud and crass that Briar reaches up to cover his ears. He hated that damn clock, and no amount of staring seemed to change it. Briar glanced over his shoulder for the thousandth time since leaving home, unable to shake the paranoia clinging to the nape of his neck. He'd been counting down the minutes until the train would arrive, the next seven minutes would be some of the last he'd share with his mother boarding the train to Hogwarts for the first time. Even as he crossed the street to the train station in broad daylight, his heartbeat rammed against his ribcage, and his back, though covered in three thick layers of clothes— his new, albeit, large robes, his thickest hoodie over them, and a knitted black tee-shirt stiff from years of repeated use—prickled with exposure. No amount of clothes would protect him from saying goodbyes.

"You're awfully quiet," Briar's mother, Rose, hummed as she emerged from the back of the car, closing the trunk behind her. Rose Caddel was nearly a splitting image of her son— dirty blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail, eyes filled with mirth and despite the coldness of their blue color. Only this time, she looked almost as weary as Briar did, her normally warm smile carrying an edge of trepidation. Her eyes mirrored Briar's, sleepless from stress, flickering across the sidewalk leading to the doors of Kings Cross. She was dragging out the inevitable, small talk wouldn't change anything. At least he could pretend for a little while.

"Just tired," he said, although the lie left a bad taste in his mouth. He couldn't meet his mother's eyes— he knew he wouldn't be able to stomach the look he was giving her, instead busying his hands with his bags, leaning down to lift one of the duffel bags he had spent packing; the one carrying his comic books, hardcovers of childhood favorites, and nicknacks, evident in the way he stumbled toward like a baby giraffe, almost warring against the bag. His mother's laugh rumbled behind him, a sound he hadn't realized he would miss until the moment struck him. So much for pretending.

─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈・ ─ ・┈・ ─ ・┈​

The train station was what Briar pictured to be the closest thing to purgatory— lines of exhausted parents and children seemed to stretch for miles, a self-contained piece of hell on Earth. There was something suffocating about the underground tunnel, the lull of trains rolling in and out. A train lay ahead, just past the ticket booth, with crowds flooding in and out. It was an almost out-of-body experience, watching the world beyond the rusted turnstile separating him and his mother. This wasn't his train, not even the correct station, he would come to realize, as his mother's hand gently pushed him through the crowds of people, towards the barrier separating platforms nine and ten.

She stopped him, holding his shoulder to keep him from nearly walking past the wall entirely. He looked back at her from over his shoulder, eyes wide and brows furrowed. He was starting to wonder if the sleep deprivation was getting to her. His lips parted, as if to ask what was wrong, but he stopped short when he noticed the tears welling up in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" He asked, but he already knew the answer.

"I'm not going through with you, Bug," she leaned down to meet Briar at eye level. She was still smiling, but the happiness in the smile didn't fully reach her eyes. He looked at her, then the brick wall, then back at her. She wondered if she was kidding, but he knew he was being coy. "The last thing you need is mom walking you onto the train on your first day. Ruins your cool guy points." Her tone was light, teasing, bittersweet but hopeful; classic mom.

This was goodbye.

No words were needed, and one tearful hug and a handful of I love you's later, Briar emerged from the other side of the brick wall, bags in hand. He was quick to collect himself, practically trained in the art of putting on a straight face as he shrugged off his hoodie and crumpled up his robe to throw it into one of his bags. He fumbled with the zipper for a moment, throwing his hoodie back on before approaching the edge of the platform.

Briar tried not to stare as families gathered around him, some first years, some returning students, everyone to stand the new school year. He swallowed, instead focusing his attention on the tunnel, which nearly blinded his as he noticed the train barreling into the station. He blinked, stepping back to avoid being blown back as the train rattled to a stop. Not long after, the doors opened, and the station gradually began to empty as students started boarding. Briar quickly fell in line, silently hoping he would be able to find an empty car to keep to himself.

He shouldn't get his hopes up.

Edric Blight

 

[Edric Blight]

Jack Thomas Balfour​

​

There was absolutely no way that September 1st, 2011, was finally here. Young Jack Thomas Balfour couldn't believe it was true. Finally, after months of waiting, the special date had arrived. But why was this day so special for young eleven year old Jack? To understand what had a young boy so excited for the first of September and having it NOT be his birthday, one must first be aware of what happened to the Balfour family a fateful summer day in July of just earlier that year. It was a bright and sunny day in Yorkshire, which everyone in the humble suburban neighborhood there was thankful for. It seemed like it wasn't too often one got a much-needed break from the abysmal and usually rainy British weather. Jack and his father Andrew were out playing a good old game of football, a popular past time amongst muggles in the United Kingdom. It was Jack's mother who came from muggle origins and had introduced him to the sport, which many boys his age liked to play around the neighborhood. It was fun and all to kick around a ball and attempt to get it past the goalie and into the back of the net. Jack found that he quite liked to pass the time playing some football, even if he was practicing his shot by himself on the grass in the backyard to their spacious two story home. It wasn't lavish by any means. but borderline upper middle class. Jack had been brought up by two loving and attentive parents in a nice home and in a nice neighborhood. To many, his life was average, and nothing more. But after that fateful day in July, the boy's life didn't seem like it would be so average for much longer.

Jack remembered having just scored a goal on his father as his mother's voice sounded, calling them in. She'd told the two that there was a letter here addressed for Jack, causing both the father and son to perk up, curious. Jack never received mail, he was only eleven, so there weren't too many bills being sent his way. The only things he was sent via post were the occasional post cards or birthday cards from his grandma all the way up in Scotland. The father looked to his son and gestured for him to follow him inside to see what his mother was fussing about. "Come on, Chip," he'd say to his son, using a nickname from when the boy was but three years old and had tripped and fell, chipping one of his front teeth. Of course, now that was long filled in, but the nickname still stuck around, and Jack didn;t seem to mind at all. Andrew Balfour was a handsome man, and in fact, his one and only son was often called his splitting image. Indeed, Jack possessed that same full head of soft as silk brown hair and of course, his trademark beautiful dark chocolate brown eyes. Jack was a bit unenthused about cutting his "footie" practice short, but went inside anyway. "Probably another postcard from grandma," Jack had muttered to his father. He could not be more wrong about that as he would find out, much to everyone in the family's surprise.

Mary Balfour, a pretty brunette woman with hazel eyes, was sitting at the table, an envelope in her hand which she started to open once her husband and son drew near. Both boys peaked over the woman's shoulder. A look of confusion came across the fair haired woman and lovely housewife as she'd opened a letter unlike any she'd ever seen before. The father however, widened his eyes as he noticed a familiar seal at the top of the page. It seemed like both parents came to the realization of what it was. "Bloody hell!" exclaimed Andrew as he saw that special logo. He didn't even need to read the contents of that letter to know what it said. His wife decided to take the liberty of reading the letter aloud once she had thought she was processing everything correctly. "Dearest regards to Jack Thomas Balfour and his family, We are delighted to inform you that Jack Thomas Balfour is being invited to attend the Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry," the letter began. In an instant, Jack's chocolate brown eyes were wide too. Everything else his mother read after the word "Hogwarts" was tuned out. It was all information he'd never even be able to keep in his head anyway with that short attention span of his. Luckily, his father and mother were more keen in those regards and were really the people who needed to know the rest of the contents of the letter.

It was a formal acceptance letter to Hogwarts, the most prestigious wizarding school in all of the United Kingdom and arguably, the world. Jack was officially being invited to attend there as a student. It seemed to surreal that this was actually happening. Hogwarts, although Jack didn't even know the half of it when it came to the magic school, knew of and had heard of the highly coveted academy. The fact was that his own father was a wizard who had attended Hogwarts in his youth. Coming from a long line of pure blooded witches and wizards, Andrew himself was a pure blooded wizard. Magical blood ran through his family. After graduating Hogwarts, Andrew fell in love with a muggle woman that he would end up marrying and having one child with. Mary fell for the man's good looks and heart, but was surprised to learn that not only was her boyfriend, then fiancé a wizard, but that magic existed, period. After being married for so many years at this point and seeing her wizard husband occasionally use magic far from the public eye and in private at home, Mary became used to magic and even learned a bit about it herself. Having a wizard father (who in his day was a Ravenclaw at Hogwarts), Jack was no stranger to magic and all things wizarding world. From a young age, Jack was first introduced to the wizarding world through the use of candies. Yes, it was his father's love for sweets, particularly wizarding sweets, that was Jack's first literal taste of anything magical.

Andrew had an affinity for wizarding treats such as chocolate frogs and because of it, had it in the house and even fed them to his young son throughout his life. Jack learned fast that with magic, anything could happen. It could enchant a non-living frog made out of chocolate to behave, act, and even move like a real one. So, Jack never really batted an eye at anything unusual growing up, as he knew his father was magic and that magic did exist. It wasn't too uncommon for Jack to see something floating around their house due to his dad. What Jack didn't know, however, was that he too had magical blood and would be able to attend this magical place called Hogwarts just like his dad did many years ago. Andrew often regaled his son and even wife in many stories about Hogwarts. It was a fantastic place with many wonders. The castle was supposedly this magnificent and grand structure with a beautiful courtyard. The people there were interesting and came from many backgrounds. And of course, learning magic was one of the best experiences of Andrew's life. He treasured his seven years at Hogwarts very dearly to his heart. Of course, he didn't really tell his family of the Second Wizarding War nor Lord Voldemort nor the blood supremacist views that many traditionalist pure blooded witches and wizards held. To Jack, Hogwarts and the wizarding world in general was nothing but awesome- something to be very excited for. And, truthfully, it was. The wizarding world was a much happier and cleaner place with Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters gone. Luckily, despite being a pure blood as pure as they come, Andrew was never raised with any harmful blood supremacist ideals growing up. He'd known many half-bloods and muggles at Hogwarts in his time and even fell in love with and married a muggle woman.

Just when Jack thought things couldn't be any more exciting, his father informed them that they'd need to go shopping for his school supplies that he would need when he got to Hogwarts. While the calling date of September 1st seemed to far away, they had ample time to get what was required of them from the list in the letter. That would end up being the catalyst for Jack's very first trip to Diagon Alley. Diagon Alley was a place in the wizarding world that only those who were magic could access. It was far away from muggle eyes and enchanted to protect witches and wizards as well as muggles themselves. A muggle could not stumble upon Diagon Alley by accident due to magical enchantments, just as they could not with Hogwarts too. His mother stayed back the August date that Jack and his father had traveled to Diagon Alley to shop for Jack's school supplies. Diagon Alley was unlike any place that Jack had ever seen before. He grew up in a muggle neighborhood and went to muggle school and visited muggle places. Even though his father was a wizard, he much preferred a peaceful life in the muggle world with his muggle wife. So, although exposed to magic, Jack lived a mostly normal, average, muggle life. Jack remembered his dad telling him to stick very close to him and not leave his sight. Diagon Alley was indeed crowded and bustling and there were even a few shady characters lurking around, so Andrew had to continuously reel his ever curious son back in and close to his side as Jack attempted to go off and explore this magical new environment.

First on the list was to get the various textbooks and school supplies such as writing utensils that young Jack would need to complete his studies at Hogwarts. The father-son duo had entered a store filled with various children looking to be around his age, some older, along with their parents. Jack wandered through the aisles of the store, looking in awe at the wacky books that were on display and for sale, as his father went and found each of the first year textbooks that would be required of him for this upcoming semester. In addition to these required books, Andrew had also purchased multiple quills and lots of parchment for note-taking. That was typically what students at Hogwarts wrote with. After playing an unwanted game of hide and seek with his hyperactive eleven year old son, who was too busy entertaining himself in the store with all of the different enchanted books, Andrew found Jack and brought him to their next destination. The next stop on their list was the robes shop. Here, Jack was to get fitted for his black Hogwarts robes- which were part of the required uniform needed to be worn by all Hogwarts students. initially, Jack thought it would be very cool to get his own set of, as he put it, "epic wizard robes," but as he went through the fitting process, his opinions on the matter quickly changed. It was a rather tedious and boring process, and admittedly, Jack's arms were getting tired from being held up as the tailors measured him for his robes, but finally, he was fully fitted and a custom set of robes were made for him so that he would have that for the start of the year.

Their last stop would be to the world-famous Ollivander's Wand Shop. While the wand shop's namesake no longer worked there, there were still diligent workers ready to assist anyone that walked through the doors. Of course, Jack would need a magic wand in order to actually perform his magic. He'd seen his father use his magic wand all the time growing up as a younger kid, so he was no stranger to the sight of a wand. Now, he couldn't be more excited to actually be getting his very own wand to use. Upon entering the wand shop, the boy's eyes landed on a slick black wand. He immediately pointed at it and declared, "Oooo! I want that one dad! Look at how cool it is!" But, Jack was quickly stopped by a man behind the counter, who smiled at him and told him that, "Ho ho my boy, that's where I'll have to butt in, for it is the wand that chooses the wizard, not the other way around!" Jack furrowed his brow and looked absolutely confused and clueless at this. But he would soon find out that this, as outrageous as it may have sounded, was true. He was given a few wands that the shopkeeper thought might be in tune with Jack, and Jack tried them each out. A few of them flung out of his hand (one of them almost hitting another student being assisted) and some other's simply gave out weak sparks. But then, a tan wand made of dogwood that was ten inches, containing a phoenix feather core inside, seemed to be the one. It was that wand that felt comfortable and responded to Jack. And so it was- the dogwood wand had chosen its master. This was by far the coolest part of the journey to Diagon Alley in Jack's opinion.

And so, the father and son returned back to their Yorkshire residence, and with them, they brought Jack's school supplies. He was ready to go to Hogwarts. All that was left was to just wait out the rest of August until that important special September first day (Jack had recently celebrated his eleventh birthday on the thirteenth of August, so he had that celebration to hold him over). Today though was that day. Finally, after what seemed like years (two weeks in reality) to Jack, September 1st, 2011 was here. Jack was awoken early that morning. The previous night, his mother had helped him pack for Hogwarts, making sure to fold all of his clothes very neatly (because Jack sure as hell wouldn't do that himself on his own accord). With his trunk at the ready, Jack scurried downstairs from his room, grunting as he dragged his heavy luggage down the stairs and outside. When everyone was ready, Andrew used a magical substance called floo powder to transport the family all to London. Yorkshire was quite a ways from the British capital, so Andrew wasn't so inclined to use a muggle car to get to the train station. Before he knew it, Jack was standing in the busy streets of London in the blink of an eye.

----------------

"Now, come on with me," said the voice of Jack's father Andrew, "We mustn't be late," he told them as he guided them through the blocks. Jack had only once before been to the capital city of Great Britain, but he was very young. Now, he was taking in all of the sights, sounds, and scenes of London. At one point as they traversed through the streets, the often easily distracted Jack was distracted by something. "Look mum! Big Ben!" exclaimed Jack as he pointed up to the British skyline. Sure enough, there was the famous clock tower. "Yes sweetheart, that's very nice," his mother Mary had replied with a soft little smile. She'd grown up just outside of London. She couldn't even count how many times she would go to the city with her family as a girl. She'd no doubt seen the Big Ben clock tower countless times by now. It was glorious, yet nothing too special to her. "Come along son, we can't get distracted, Chip," his father gently reminded him, knowing Jack had a knack for getting distracted by things due to his short attention span. Jack nodded, "Right!" he replied, following his father. Eventually, knowing the way, Andrew had guided them to the King's Cross Train Station. If the city was bustling about, the train station seemed even busier. Countless muggles appeared to be on their way to work and other places as they quickly walked by, hurrying off to catch their early morning trains. Jack would stop and wave at some, offering a few stressed looking people a smile, but his father would quickly tug him by the sleeve and urge him along, muttering something about how it was "rude to stare" and that he might get himself "socked in the face" if he wasn't careful. Jack was only trying to be friendly.

But, the family of three carried on, making their way through the platforms. Jack would look up at the signs and count for himself as they walked by- one, two, three, four, five, six- and then he lost count and focused on other things, like a woman walking her dog. It was quite a cute dog, and he almost stopped and stared at it to admire it if it wasn't for his mother gently pushing him along (the boy probably would've ran over and asked to pet the canine if given the chance). Before he knew it, they were standing in between platforms nine and ten. "Ok son, we're almost there, but I need you to listen very carefully to me," said Andrew, getting down on one knee and putting a hand on Jack's shoulder and looking into his eyes, making sure his son was paying attention. Jack looked around him- passing by were average muggles on their way to work, some arriving to London and some leaving. All of them paid no mind to the family of three and their boy with the large trunk of luggage. He finally met his dad's eyes and nodded to let his father know that he was in fact paying attention to him now. Andrew nodded, "Good," he said. "Alright Chip, now this might sound outrageous, but I'm going to need you to run headfirst into that wall over there," he said, pointing to the brick pillar in between platforms nine and ten. Jack's brown eyes widened and a look of confusion came across his face. Such an idea sounded counterintuitive- even mad!

Seeing his son's reaction, Andrew chuckled as he took his hand off of Jack's shoulder and stood up straight. "Trust me Chip, you've got to do it. Your papa has never steered you wrong, have I?" he asked. Jack's smile returned as he shook his head no. Mary, hearing all of this, looked just as confused if not more confused as her son had previously looked. Andrew gathered his family around and prepared to transport to the wizarding world with them. "This is necessary so we can get to the wizarding world and catch your train," whispered Andrew to his family. "Now, on the count of three, I want us all to run at the wall, together. I promise, we're going to go right through it- just don't think about it too hard," said Andrew. Jack took a deep breath and trusted his father, nodding. He held his dad's hand to the right of him, and his mom's hand to the left of him. "One, two, three!" counted Andrew. On his cue, all of them began to run towards the wall, Jack shut his eyes tight, anticipating something super weird to happen or, for him to hit a hard brick wall and get knocked out. But neither of those things happened. Jack felt a brief funny sensation, a tingling one all throughout his body, and in an instant, he was transported into a whole new world- the wizarding world to be exact.

Once Jack opened his eyes, he opened them wide as he took in the scenes around him. Now, instead of muggles in bland suits, hurrying off to work, there were countless children, his age and above, most of them dressed in the same black Hogwarts robes that he had gotten himself fitted for. "Chip, welcome to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters," said his dad with a smile as he looked down at Jack. "Here, put these on, you'll look more like a student," said Andrew with a chuckle as he handed Jack his set of black robes. Jack nodded once and took his robes, setting his luggage trunk down temporarily as he slipped them on. Now, he looked the part of a young wizard. "The Hogwarts Express should be arriving any minute now. It's a bright red steam engine train- ya can't miss it!" said his father with a grin. Jack smiled and felt excitement begin to bubble within the pit of his stomach. He didn't have much time to wait and simmer in these excited feelings of anticipation as suddenly, the horn of a train could be heard tooting loudly. Sure enough, looking towards the track, there came a bright red train, speeding into the station and coming to a screeching halt. "ALL ABOARD!" yelled the loud voice of one of the train's conductors. Andrew looked down at his son and nodded, still smiling, "That's your cue, Chip," he told him softly. "Well hold on just a minute, Andy!" chimed in Mary. "He's not going anywhere until he says goodbye to his mummy!" she protested.

"Right, of course," chuckled his dad. Mary quickly grabbed her son in her arms and hugged him tightly, causing Jack to grunt from the squeeze. "Oh my baby boy," she began, clearly getting all emotional now. It was settling in to the mother's mind that she'd be sending off her one and only son for the year to go to school. She'd never not had him home for this long. The longest he'd been gone was at a sleep-away camp. This was a completely different story though. "Mummy is going to miss you so much," she went on, tears beginning to form. Jack couldn't help but blush slightly at his mother using terms like "my little baby boy" and "mummy" with him. Luckily though, anyone who was around was too busy saying their own goodbyes to family and making their way to the train, which had opened its doors to start letting students in to board. "I love you too, mummy," replied Jack softly, smiling fondly as he gave his mother a hug back. "I just know you're going to do great things at hogwash, my love," said Mary sweetly. "Mum, it's called Hogwarts!" Jack corrected her with a giggle. Oh God, she was going to miss that joyful and boyish giggle so much. "Right, sorry," she apologized. With that, she gave her son a big kiss on the forehead, squeeze his cheeks lovingly a bit, and pat his head, sending him on his way to his father. Now it was time to say goodbye to dad after being dotted on by his mom.

Andrew wore a proud grin as he knelt down to get to his eleven year old son's height level. "Chip, I just know you're going to make your mum and I so proud. You're destined for great things- you really are," his father began. "Just do me a favor and please, for the love of all things that are holy, try to keep yourself out of trouble, mate?" his dad asked him. Jack chuckled, "No promises, dad!" he replied with a laugh. He was going to miss that youthful laugh filling the house when Jack was gone. "That's not reassuring," said Andrew, rolling his eyes, but playfully, maintaining his grin. Asking Jack to change his whole way of life was a tall order, he knew that. "I know you're going to do amazing things at Hogwarts. Just be yourself and you'll be making tons of friends in no time," he told him. Jack smiled and nodded. "Okay dad, got it," he replied with a nod. "Now bring it in, Chip," said Andrew, smiling as he opened his arms up. Jack stepped forward and gave his father a great big hug. When they had broken their embrace, the conductor once again called for all of the students to continue boarding the train. "Alright, now go on. Wouldn't want you to miss the train on your big first day," said his dad. With that, Jack nodded, turning to wave goodbye to both his mother and father before setting off to follow the line of students in the process of getting onto the Hogwarts Express.

As Jack made his way to file in line with the rest of the students boarding the train, he also saw some other students finishing up their goodbyes with family, some (many with Hogwarts house crests on their robes) saying hello and reuniting with old friends from years past. Jack fell in line and waited as slowly but surely, the students boarded the carriages of the train. Jack, ever the talkative and friendly boy, decided to strike up a conversation with someone. Unfortunately, the boy directly in front of him in line was to be his first victim. Jack tapped the boy with dirty blonde hair and smiled. "Oi! Hullo mate!" he greeted the kid, "You excited to get to Hogwarts?" he asked the boy. "My dad's told me loads of cool things about it! Did you know that the paintings on the wall actually move? Oh and don't get me started on all the cool potions they teach ya to brew there!" he rambled on. Jack tended to go on and on if he wasn't stopped. He just loved to talk- it was who he was. The line of students got shorter and shorter as they all entered the train. Then Jack got an idea. "Oooo! Would you like to sit with me? I'm sure we can find an open compartment!" he offered, flashing his undeniably adorable yet friendly and welcoming grin.

 

[villainvrs]

briar hayes

# momma's boy.

♡coded by uxie♡

There's a heart-lurching moment when the world goes like a rug pulled out from beneath Briar abruptly and without ceremony.

Reality jerks him back into the present. Eyes snapping wide open, panic flashes through Briar like a flood, soaking his bones before he feels his feet under him. There's a wayward itch inside his skin, this fire that he'd come to recognize as anticipation. Granted, that descriptor has always felt diminutive of the glittering tangle, hot and impatient. A bird poised to take flight; a new universe burning white-hot, coiled tight and compacted waiting to explode into being; the first suspended moments on the sprung floor in front of the screaming crowd, squad in opening positions right before the music starts, where you're waiting for something to begin, muscles wound up and your mind racing in the seconds of purgatory.

There was no turning back now— almost literally, squeezed into a sideways single file line like a tin of sardines— marching toward the train's transit doors. Even though it's barely eleven o'clock in the morning, his mind's cast forward in time, barreling straight through the rest of the schedule that had been laid out for him. Hogsmeade Station was hours out, and yet, it was the only thing he could think about. Even now, even though he has absolutely nothing to worry about for the better part of at least six hours, he can still feel that same sharp pressure building in the point between his brows. An acute reminder that he still has something to prove.

Briar's grip tightens on his bags as he was jostled, shoved, and jabbed in the ribs by the overly eager students who pushed through the crowds in hope for snagging a car for themselves. He kept walking, and walking, and walking, his pace slowing to fall back just beyond the stampede of first years attempting to squeeze past each other through the doorway. He was more than happy to fade into the background, to be just another face in the crowd. He reveled in the feeling of being normal, something that was few and far between for the Hayes kid.

Even with tired limbs and paranoia prepared for takeoff in his buzzing mind, Briar had managed to convince himself that this wasn't bad— one step forward into adulthood, and another into the wizarding world.

It was never that simple.

A light touch on the shoulder was enough to startle Briar, who had become a drone to the lull of shuffling feet; he'd been so content to watch the world go by that he hadn't considered what other people would do in his place. For a moment, the blonde stared back at the boy behind him, lips parted in surprise as if he were a fish out of water. People had a habit of approaching him in public, be it for his almost staggering resemblance to his father ( aside from his eyes, which were the only thing that reminded him of the goodness of his mother ). He wondered— half out of curiosity, and the other out of sheer hope, if he'd been mistaken for a returning student. It took him longer than he'd wish to admit to find his voice, caught between clearing his throat and a noise of surprise as he produced a mousey noise that almost resembled, "Hey."

So much for cool points.

The boy behind him didn't seem to notice his pathetic excuse for a hello, continuing on with a surprisingly few amount of breaths. Despite boarding to cross England to get to the boarding school, Briar had given little thought to what it would be like once he was actually there. Hogwarts had never been much of a topic of discussion at the dinner table. Despite his mother being Hogwarts alumni, and being raised in a pureblood lineage, the school brought up bad memories. Moving paintings sounded like something you'd see out of a horror movie, not something he found himself particularly looking forward to.

Barely able to contain his curiosity, Briar couldn't help but engage in conversation. "Dunno if excited is the right word for it, maybe nauseous," the blonde shrugged, peering at the brunette over his shoulder. He'd quickly regained his composure ( or rather, whatever shreds left of it ), straightening up as he approached the steps entering the train. He braced himself to carry his bags up the stairs despite how much his noodle arms protested against it. "My mom says the paintings are creepy, and that potions take too long," he countered, ever the devil's advocate. He lurched up the stairs, dragging his bags behind him and flashing an uneasy smile at the car attendant as if to apologize for taking so long.

Once he'd fully stepped onto the train, he couldn't help but marvel at the compartments that seemed to stretch on for miles. He kept moving, staggering through the train with all the strength an eleven year old boy could muster. He was starting to regret all of the action figures he'd packed the night before. He could sense the boy behind him grinning as he asked if he wanted to sit with him if they could find an empty car. He hesitated to answer, but it was always so much harder to say no than it was to just agree. He had always struggled to assert himself from a young age, and no amount of talking his ear off could change that. A people pleaser to a fault.

"I mean, if you want to," he said flippantly, another shrug. It didn't help that the kid was so damn friendly.

 

[Edric Blight]

Jack Balfour​

​

As the student turned around, probably anyone other than Jack Balfour would’ve recognized that the poor, dirty blonde haired boy in front of him was uncomfortable and nervous. But this was Jack Balfour, and he didn’t know when to quit- or rather, when to stop himself once he started. It was an unfortunate set of circumstances that seemed to befall the child in front of Jack as he became the first victim of the friendly talkative machine that was the hyperactive Balfour boy. His father was a mostly reserved man- charming in his silence if anything. His mother was a bit more talkative but nothing outrageous. Perhaps she’d be what one considered “normal.” So it was certainly a head scratcher as to how their son came out the way he did. Jack started talking pretty much straight out of the womb. When he was a baby, it was constant streams of babbling. When he was a toddler, he picked up words fast and repeated them like a parrot. Now as a kid growing up, it seemed that his mouth was a motor that never shut off. But if you asked his parents, they wouldn’t change their little Jack for the world.

Not sensing the boy in front of him’s discomfort, Jack maintained his friendly grin as finally, the stranger addressed him. A rather squeaky greeting came out but it didn’t seem to bother Jack, and it certainly didn’t turn him off to engaging further with this boy. The stranger began to speak more, and his first few words surprised him. In Jack’s mind, how could anyone be anything other than excited about this next new step? Nauseous was not a word he’d have used in a million years to describe how he was feeling right now. The only thing he felt inside of his stomach was excitement bubbling deep in its pit, or perhaps the pancakes from breakfast earlier bouncing around. It wasn’t the pathetic hello but this statement that had Jack the most surprised. Finally, it was the boy in front of him’s turn to step onto the train. He watched as the boy went up the steps and listened as he responded to his earlier comments about the moving paintings at Hogwarts and even potions class. This stranger, who Jack hoped would soon be that no longer to him, seemed to have a rather negative and pessimistic outlook. But that never stopped that always positive Jack Balfour.

“Mum’s can be worry warts sometimes, I’m sure potions class is fun, and the moving paintings sound nothing but cool to me! We don’t have anything of the sorts back at my house!” Jack replied, his cute and charming little smile ever so present across his youthful lips. After the boy in front of him had stepped onto the train and boarded, Jack stepped up onto the stairs next. He grunted as he lifted up the heavy trunk of luggage onto the locomotive. He huffed a bit up the couple of stairs and let out an exhale as he finally made it inside of the train. Perhaps if he hadn’t packed his little childhood teddy bear, his luggage wouldn’t have been so heavy- or at least that’s what the case was if you asked his father. His dad highly advised against his eleven year old son taking his teddy bear he’d had and slept with since he was two years old to Hogwarts, worrying his son would get made fun of. But Jack was adamant on taking the small bear. “I can’t sleep without Teddy! I’ve got to show him Hogwarts!” Jack had told his dad. His father couldn’t argue with that and instead prayed internally that whoever was roommates with his boy wouldn’t make fun of him. There was certainly no changing Jack.

Once onboard the train, he could hear the chatter of students in the aisles and inside of their compartments. Jack still eagerly awaited the answer from the boy whose name he did not yet know but was determined to find out soon, if he’d like to sit with him. He did reply, saying yes, albeit rather unenthusiastically so. But despite sensing this, it did nothing to deter Jack. “I very much do! I think it’ll be fun!” replied the brown haired and brown eyed boy. “Come on! Let’s find an open compartment!” Jack suggested. “It would get quite boring if you were to ride alone, no?” Jack asked. “I’ll gladly keep ya company. Perhaps we can be friends!” Jack offered with a grin that made him hard to shoot down. “My mum says it’s good to be around people and that avoiding them usually makes one miserable. I’d love someone to sit with for the ride,” he told the stranger boy. The rambling simply did not stop with Jack. It was in the boy’s blood it seemed- but out of no where, as no one in his family was quite like this. If you asked Jack, he prided himself on his individuality.

 

[villainvrs]

briar hayes

# momma's boy.

♡coded by uxie♡

With talking to kids his own age, always came the dreaded introductions. Where he'd have to swallow his dignity, steel himself for a range of expected responses and blurt out the name in a few resounding syllables.

Briar Hayes.

His name was the last thread connecting him to his past. It was the final tether; the last straw. And he wished so desperately to take a pair of scissors and cut himself free. It was what he wanted. But his father held the scissors which would fulfill all his dreams, and he would have to rip them from his bare hands in order to snap the thread in two.

Briar Hayes—his connecting tether. It was his name. The one thing that he used to hold near and dear to his heart. For a long time, it was the only thing he had; the only thing he needed.

Hayes, Hayes, Hayes. But it wasn't just a name. It never had been just a name. It was a legacy; a legacy his father expected him to carry on. But Briar didn't want to be a prophetic child. Children have always been meant to suffer for their parents' sins or so he realized in the time since his father's victims had been brought to justice. He knew his name carried a weight, that the Hayes name had been whispered across the wizarding world like a bad omen. Because nothing would change or ever change, but if you asked Briar, he'd tell you blood purity was bullshit. At least that's what mom told him.

There was a time when Briar thought he would die if he were ever away from home. Granted, he was young, and naïve, and prone to spinning wild tales in his mind. But ━━ at the time━━ the thought of being away from the trailer park he called home felt like a sin. He and his mother had to be in the station early that morning, which meant she didn't have the time to make Briar breakfast. Not that he ever ate it, anyway ━━ he thought she never noticed, but she did. Rose had been meaning to rummage through her an old cook books to try and find something Briar would actually like and eat, but it turned out Briar wasn't easy to please. She was that kind of sacrificial mother ━━ who would've cut open a vein in her arm just to bleed out whatever Briar wanted. She was the mother every kid wanted, and Briar didn't deserve.

It'd be at least another four months until he'd get to see her again, but to him, it might as well have been four years. Rarely did Briar even a day without seeing his mother, it had just been them against the world for as long as he could remember. His mind swirled with impossibilities and misplaced anxieties as he moved through the train, lugging his bags behind him. The voice of the boy behind him hardly brought him any comfort. Hogwarts was just regular school with more steps in his mind, his mother had never explained it deeper than how wands function, which in her case, was using them to help her wash the dishes.

"I'd hope you wouldn't have moving paintings in your house, I wouldn't be able to sleep at night with them on my wall," Briar said after a moment of deliberation, his voice carrying over the voices of other students as they found their seats. He found himself squeezing past a pair of older students who had left their broomsticks hanging into the aisle, excusing himself as he stepped over them. As much as the kid behind him was right━━ no one ever really wanted to sit alone on a train headed towards school of all places━━ Briar hesitated. His mother always told him it would be easy for him to make friends if he tried, but she didn't know how cruel some kids could come to be when they realized who his father was. But this was meant to be a fresh start for Briar and his mother, they were meant to move on from the past, regardless of the risks.

Besides, there was a greater chance of this kid being sorted into a different house than him, and after the six hour train ride, they'd likely only come close to seeing one another in their classes, or in the halls, or late at night in the school's kitchen when everyone else was supposed to be asleep. At least, that's what Briar told himself. Maybe it would one good for him, to have his ear talked off than to sit in the silence of his own thoughts. "Okay, I'll sit with you," the blonde decided, trying to keep pace with the other students in front of him. He wasn't sure about the whole "becoming friends" part, but this kid seemed a lot more sufferable than any of the older students here. At least they could stake their claim on an empty compartment. Eventually the way cleared, and a private compartment in between two full ones seemed to be empty. Briar breathed a sigh of relief, his arms tired from carrying his bags, and making a mental note to pack light for next year. He moved towards the sliding doors, using his hand carrying the lighter bag to push the door to the side.

"You can go first," Briar offered, keeping the door from closing on them. This was the first time since he'd gotten on the train that he'd gotten a good look at the boy behind him. He wondered if his smile was just polite, or if he was really just that friendly.

 

[Edric Blight]

Jack Balfour​

​

Jack had finally stopped rambling and took a breath to actually let the other kid speak. His mother was always reminding him to breathe when he spoke (and ate, because he ate food like a starved hyena). While table manners weren’t Jack’s forte at all, he did have the decency to eventually stop talking. But, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t pick right back up and talk your ear off the next response. It was just the way Jack was. Although he wasn’t anything like either of his parents in personality (looks were a different story), his parents wouldn’t have their “little Jackie” any other way. And, in his lower levels of schooling with all muggle classes, Jack was pretty likable. He had lots of friends and was even on the school’s football team. He was popular let friendly. You could practically step all over him and Jack would smile and let you do it again if it made you happy. Perhaps that was his weakness- he was a people pleaser and sometimes to a fault. Yet some things did deeply affect him but he’d bottle them up. To Jack, no one was allowed to see the “human” side to him- the side that got sad or angry. But he was only eleven and had much time to grow and develop and sort these things out.

The brown haired brown eyed boy simply shrugged at the moving paintings comment. Personally, Jack thought it would be cool, but then again, he thought everything was cool at this point. He was always curious and eager when it came to new things and the unknown. One couldn’t fault the young boy’s attitude in that regard. Jack continued to maintain his friendly grin that only seemed to get wider as the boy finally accepted his offer to sit together. He tried to hide just how excited he was but failed miserably as he practically bounced up and down. Clearly Jack was very hyped up to have someone with him for the long train ride. The poor stranger just didn’t know what he was getting himself into to be frank. But, sitting with a boy like Jack Balfour was a whole lot better than some of the other options.

Kids or rather, teen boys at this age could be so cruel and so harsh. This was especially true of those raised amongst strict, wealthy, traditionalist pure blooded ones. They could be ruthless, nasty, and sometimes just pure evil at times. Add that British snark and sass and it was a recipe for disaster. Luckily Jack had been mostly shielded from any sort of bullies back in his muggle school, but, it also meant he wouldn’t be prepared for any should they arise at Hogwarts. Jack was always sheltered growing up, to the point where his father never told him of the dark side to the wizarding world. For all Jack knew, the wizarding world was this wonderful place with no bad or down sides. He was eleven now but who knew how long and how far that line of thinking would get him. He was bound to eventually be exposed to something unpleasant.

“Great!” Jack exclaimed as the blonde haired boy agreed to the proposed seating arrangement. As a few students cleared away, Jack noticed a free compartment. It seemed that the stranger had too, so Jack followed the boy and made his way there. He grunted a bit as he struggled to drag his heavy trunk of luggage but managed. How many bloody pairs of underwear could he possibly need, he wondered, remembering his mother insisting on packing a lot of them. When they reached the door to this open compartment the stranger politely offered to let him go in first. “Oh! Uhh, thanks! Thanks a lot!” Jack replied with a beaming smile as he stepped inside to the empty roomette first, bringing his large trunk inside. That damn smile never seemed to leave his face. It was like he was born with it and it never went away.

Jack began to settle in, making a few strained noises as he shoved his trunk underneath the bench. He let out a big exhale as his labored face went back to a happy expression. “Phew! Bloody heavy I tell ya! My mum definitely over-packed me!” he said as he began to sit down. Jack chose the seat closest to the window. Not only did he like to look out at the scenery but he liked to play the little game where he made his pointer and middle finger a little guy and pretended that it was running. Yes, even still at eleven, he played that silly childhood game that everyone young child seemed to have played at some point in their lives. Jack leaned back slightly and rested his hands folded across his stomach as he maintained that Jack Balfour smile and watched the boy enter their compartment. Then, the question arose.

“Say, what’s your name?”