Post by wisexserpent on Aug 19, 2013 21:50:07 GMT -6
Jonathan Weiss stared at the dark green canopy over his four-poster bed in the Slytherin dormitory. The seventh-year's lips were set in a grim line, and the day hadn't even gotten started yet. It was Saturday, and Jonathan was reluctant to drag himself out of bed. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, but he wasn't allowed to go. His only caregiver, a widowed grandmother, didn't believe in galavanting off on the weekends and ignoring one's studies, so she hadn't signed the release for him to visit the town. Grandmother Weiss didn't believe in any kind of pleasure, for that matter. As a result, Jonathan planned on waiting until all his classmates were out of the castle before he went down to breakfast.
He didn't want to explain his situation to anyone that knew him, not that there were many people who really did. Jonathan was the quiet sort. He was lanky, and bookish, and his professors sometimes referred to him as a "genius." Jonathan wasn't too sure about that, but he didn't much care. He made good enough marks to keep out of trouble, and didn't worry about much else. He never found the work difficult, and often wondered why he hadn't been placed in Ravenclaw.
Deep down, he realized that it probably had a lot to do with his ruthless ambition and an insatiable desire to make his way in the world and get away from his oppressive and sometimes abusive grandmother. She was a muggle, and she feared Jonathan deeply. So, she reacted by locking him in small, confined spaces and refusing him even the smallest comforts.
Once he heard silence emanating from the common room, Jonathan rose and cleaned up before heading down to the Great Hall. He was wearing black jeans, black combat boots, and a green thermal shirt. He didn't expect to see anyone, so he was a bit more relaxed than usual. He had no homework to do, and by the looks of the ceiling in the great hall, a storm was brewing so wandering the grounds was out of the question. Jonathan gave a grunt of disgust at his putrid luck, and quietly sipped some orange juice while he picked at a piece of toast. He'd read almost every book in the library, and it looked like it was going to be a dull excuse for a day.
He didn't want to explain his situation to anyone that knew him, not that there were many people who really did. Jonathan was the quiet sort. He was lanky, and bookish, and his professors sometimes referred to him as a "genius." Jonathan wasn't too sure about that, but he didn't much care. He made good enough marks to keep out of trouble, and didn't worry about much else. He never found the work difficult, and often wondered why he hadn't been placed in Ravenclaw.
Deep down, he realized that it probably had a lot to do with his ruthless ambition and an insatiable desire to make his way in the world and get away from his oppressive and sometimes abusive grandmother. She was a muggle, and she feared Jonathan deeply. So, she reacted by locking him in small, confined spaces and refusing him even the smallest comforts.
Once he heard silence emanating from the common room, Jonathan rose and cleaned up before heading down to the Great Hall. He was wearing black jeans, black combat boots, and a green thermal shirt. He didn't expect to see anyone, so he was a bit more relaxed than usual. He had no homework to do, and by the looks of the ceiling in the great hall, a storm was brewing so wandering the grounds was out of the question. Jonathan gave a grunt of disgust at his putrid luck, and quietly sipped some orange juice while he picked at a piece of toast. He'd read almost every book in the library, and it looked like it was going to be a dull excuse for a day.