Elspeth was alone. This was not unusual. She had been alone since that night in March all those years ago. Her father was still around; that was true. But he was an all together different man, consumed by grief and fear. He still taught. He still cared for her. He still caught the tram in the mornings. But he operated in this strange space, where he loved her so much and yet around his daughter, there was always pain for she reminded him of the woman they both had lost.
The young brunette had become accustomed to this distanced yet close lifestyle. It was quite literally all she had. Now, being at Hogwarts, she had even less than that. She couldn't lean on her father in moments of terror and she had yet to make any real friends at the school. The other students all seemed so knowledgable about magic, accepting of each other, and just better at childhood over all.
The only solace Elspeth had was the sky, in which she imagined her mother now lived as a star. Before the diagnosis, Elspeth used to watch the sky with her mother, who often saw the sky as a source of inspiration for her poems. Together, they would count the stars or look for constellations. Elspeth loved hearing the mythology behind the star designs, which naturally overlapped with History and Literature. These allowed her to speak to others in the University beyond the department of Political Science, which might always be where her loyal lied, but she loved to learn from all kinds of disciplines.
Being sorted into Slytherin, her Common Room was underground, far, far away from the skies. She didn't much like it. The space felt constrained and claustrophobic down under the lake. She needed to be up in an open and airy space, someplace she could feel free and almost alive.
This was why she came up to the Astronomy tower as often as she could. For class, yes, but she also crept up on her own in off-hours, especially at night. She didn't really consider that this was wrong. It was a lot simpler than that: she needed this. She needed to be free and to stare up into the sky. She needed to see her mum. And it never occurred to her that she should speak to a Professor, who in all likelihood would never understand. Instead, she climbed the tower stairs, and took at seat, looking up as she clutched her necklace, sometimes staring for hours and muttering mumblings her mother would never be able to hear.
But earlier that day, she had noticed her necklace was not on her vanity. She had searched and searched, moving her books around rummaging through her clothes, but it was no where to be found. The only place she hadn't been yet was the tower. It had to be there. She wore it everyday just about, but especially on the tower. The necklace was one of the last items her mother had given her before the Huntington's ravaged her body. It was a piece of mint colored sea glass taken from a Portobello beach, wrapped in gold wire and set on a matching chain. It was exceedingly simple and plain, but it was all she had and she couldn't lose it. She didn't know what she would ever do if she did.
And so, after dinner, she tread lightly up the stairs to the Astronomy tower, just as she had been doing for weeks. Only this time, she didn't particularly care if she saw anyone alone the way. The necklace was the only thing that mattered. She had to retrieve it and that started with tracing her steps.
Stepping into the room, she tried to recall exactly where she had stepped last night. As she moved, she'd look down at the cracks in the stone, hoping for a glimmer of gold. Eventually, she reached a railing from which she could see the sky. "I'm sorry mum," she whispered softly into the night as she looked up to the stars. She felt so stupid for misplacing her most precious possession. But it wasn't over yet. She still had areas of the tower to search and she wasn't going to leave until she found it. She couldn't leave until she found it.
For @Kateri Karr
Last edited by Hjørdis Jensen on 3rd June 2020, 7:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Stamina: 7 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 5 | Wisdom: 7 | Arcane Power: 5 | Accuracy: 9
Evasive Maneuvers | Perfectionist
Evasive Maneuvers | Perfectionist