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Post by hazel on May 16, 2010 22:53:12 GMT
this whole hufflepuff common room in the dungeons idea was stupid. hufflepuffs were stereotypically happy natured people, but sometimes it was hard to be gleeful when you stepped out of your common room to a dark and wet dungeon corridor. having recently awoken, briar pritchard slipped through the common room seal and into the halls. stifling a yawn, she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, and tried again to get her eyes used to the light, or lack thereof. peering from behind her hands, she slowly let them drop to her side as she stepped forward and began making her way down the corridor. badly lit torches allowed some light to glow in the cobblestone halls, but it was not much compared to the lights upstairs.
she maneuvered past some people as she kept her pace, just letting her mind roam. she was thinking about things, about home. she had just come back from a weekend of visiting on her mother's command. her father was as nasty as ever, the scumbag that he was. it made her batshit crazy, just thinking about it. shaking her head, briar slowed her steps little by little until she had stopped, and was leaning against a wall. she had stood up to her dad again, and his temper cooled. he wasn't a bad guy, but he had issues. and of course, mum was just too much of a ninny to stop him herself. she'd have to think about taking that step of getting help soon. maybe over the summer.
it wasn't like he was dangerous of anything, just mean. tilting her head back against the stone wall, briar looked up at the torch above her head. why did light always play the beacon roles in movies and such? it was kind of cliche. sometimes, and briar knew this all too well, you could find your 'beacon' in the darkest of places. lowering her head and letting her gaze shift around, she chuckled to herself. here she was, standing in the dungeons of hogwarts, claiming that help could be found here. well, maybe not. but she was help to her mother- and she could be found here. pushing herself off the wall, she started walking forward again, the stairs to go up just in sight. help was a perceptive word ... so was beacon. it all depended on how you looked at it.
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