[Paris Aurinko]

The American had to hand it to them, there was a reason Hogwarts was so renowned. Paris had just stepped off the train into a woodland that looked like a fantasy forest, and found himself utterly mesmerised by great trees gothic architecture of near by buildings. In all his time in England all he had known were ratty alley ways and the undersides of bridges. Now, instead of squaller it was all the things he envisioned when someone said something like ‘Oxford’ or sipped tea out of a white cup. The group he was trailing moved toward carriages which were pulled by nothing. Paris tried to stealthily follow them, but not having house colours printed on his robes earned him hostile glances. One of them said something but they weren’t looking straight at him and so whatever it remained lost to him, trying to follow them into the carriage again a green robed figure pointed at the group of unsorted first years.



And so, Paris’s first introduction to his new school was spent towering over a group of children in ill-fitting government provided unmarked robes while groups who already had friends, or knew where they were going drifted past. Was he going to have to walk? Was there rules around this? Unable to talk to anyone Paris had no idea. He looked at where the carriages were going, they seemed to cut deep tracks into the mud, he could probably just follow that. It beat hanging out with first years, so he started on what would be a long walk which would inevitably make him late to his own sorting.

[Nathaniel Kingsley]

Something strange happened to him on the train to Hogwarts. Walking through the corridors between train compartments, Nathaniel had thought he saw someone familiar, newly familiar. It was just a glimpse of a man who looked like someone Nathaniel had gotten acquainted with over the summer and then the glimpse was gone. It distracted him enough that he barely registered what his brother and the other seventh years were saying in their compartment. Besides, half the time they aren't talking to him anyway. Deciding that what he saw had been an illusion brought about by the countless nights he hadn't slept due to thinking about a certain person he had met and what had transpired between them - the confusion and conflict within Nathaniel - he carried on with his day. He took the train. He arrived in Hogsmeade and got into the carriages. They were brought to Hogwarts and belongings went to their dorms and the students went to the Great Hall for the feast. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Everything went as it should have. There were no hallucinations for him to witness of men he met in the pub whom he paid to hang out with. Until he left the Great Hall and found himself face to face with the very person he had been thinking about despite his best efforts not to think about him. The conundrum of life, the more one tries not to, the more the thing occurs. The brain is truly fascinating in that regard. But right now, Nathaniel's brain has stopped working all together. He can do nothing but stare, in dumbfounded silence, at the man standing in the Entrance Hall. tagged; Paris Aurinko

[Paris Aurinko]

It was quite the trek, and a lot of uphill walking. Paris was about halfway when a professor who was checking for stragglers caught him on the path. Unable to hear them Paris had not noticed their calls until they landed next to him, scaring the life out of him as he was sternly bustled inside a small carriage which seemed to fling itself across the Scottish landscape, the professor droning on about how Paris was lucky he did not have a house to lose points for yet.
By the time they arrived in Paris was tired, hungry, and not altogether enamoured with this mad place. The professor angrily gestured him toward the doors of the great hall before disappearing themselves. Paris looked up at the doors, amazed how big they were, and wondering if they would even open for him, but when he placed his hand on the door it was already swinging open, another student clad in blue standing there looking shell shocked.
For a moment Paris didn’t recognise him – there was far too much going on for Paris to be paying much mind to people. He was far too overwhelmed with trying to figure out where he was, and where he was trying to go. The other didn’t immediately move out of his way, just continued to stare at him, so Paris waved a hand, frowning at him. That was before the gears started to work. The blue eyes, the sharp features, that constantly slightly confused look – Nate, this was Nate from the Hogshead.
This was one of those moments when he should have said something, but of course he couldn’t, and signing would have been a waste of time. Paris was just watching Nate, unable to hear the angry calls from professors who were trying to get the sorting finished up.

Nathaniel Kingsley,

[Nathaniel Kingsley]

Nathaniel Kingsley is stunned and unable to say or do anything but stare at Eddie. Of course, he is aware that Eddie is not his name and that all of the lies he suspected the young man had been telling him those nights at the Hog’s Head were all untrue were about to be revealed now that they both stood in Hogwarts facing each other down. Nathaniel can hear the Professor calling for someone. Someone named Paris. It doesn’t click immediately until he hears his own name and looks over. Bring Paris to the sorting hat? Nate’s look of confusion continues as he and the Professor exchange exasperated expressions with one another. But who is Paris? “Oh dearest,” Professor Salvatore is there to save the day. “Come along, you must be Paris. Best get you sorted.” And with that, Eddie, who is now Paris, is whisked away from Nate to be sorted and Nate is left completely dumbfounded – even more so than ever – by the fact that the young man he had been spending time with; the young man he had shared a strangely, enlightening kiss with, is being seated on the stool and about to have the sorting hat placed on his head. tagged; Paris Aurinko

[Paris Aurinko]

Eddie was the persona Paris had adopted in his work around Knockturn and Hogsmead not wanting to get personal with clients. Privacy was important to Paris – for several reasons, the biggest being that if he ever popped up on his parents radar again he dreaded to think what they could do to him. Something worse than what they had already…

One such client had been a lonely nerd known as Nathaniel Kingsley. Nate was funny, if impossibly arrogant. Well meaning, but socially inept. Paris liked him. But, that didn’t mean he was willing to waive his fees. Boy had to eat, and money was scarce. Something Paris never lacked had now become a lifeline. He had gone from never needing anything, wearing the best of clothes, not knowing a hungry day, to starving on the side of a road. You never really know how much you appreciate something until it is gone.

Then the summer had ended, and Nathaniel was gone along with it. Paris had not expected to see the guy ever again, expecting England to be bigger than that.

Now he was staring at those accusatory blue eyes, completely at a loss for words. All he could do is slowly raise his hand and wave a little, it would be comical if it was not so strange. That was when the professor came to his rescue – or so he thought. No sooner had he left Nate alone than he was standing infront of an entire assembly of hundreds of students, all staring at him. Was he supposed to do something? Were they expecting something? He looked to Salvatore for help but a moment later a frustrated teacher wanting to move things along has dropped a musty old hat on his head. And it moved.

Students were chattering among themselves, cheering, but unable to hear Paris couldn’t understand the hat. He had no idea as it told the assembly of his bravery, his cunning to survive, or his unusual problem solving skills – but ultimately landing him as a hard working loyal creature.
Had he heard any of this Paris would have vehemently disagreed. He had fled his family, left behind the love of his life, and had no one he could trust. He was as far from loyal as you could get. Hardworking? Maybe, but not loyal. But he could not argue, all he could do was stare at these faces swimming around him, completely overwhelmed, with no idea what was happening.

[Nathaniel Kingsley]

His name is Paris. Not Eddie. Paris Aurinko. And he’s sitting on the stool in the Great Hall as the last of the new students being sorted. And Nathaniel is sitting at the Ravenclaw table looking up at him in bewilderment. How is he supposed to go about his day now that the object of his...curiousity is attending Hogwarts? He can’t exactly be seen or overheard inquiring about the things they had talked about and shared during their time in Hogsmeade at The Hog’s Head. People would find out, they’d talk... He swallows nervously. He finds it difficult to remove his eyes from the man sitting on display for the entire castle. And when the sorting hat calls out Hufflepuff, Paris does not move. He doesn’t hear it and Nathaniel watches Professor Salvatore tap his shoulder and nudge him along to his house table. The table right beside his table. All he has to do is lean over and he can talk to the nearest Hufflepuff student except that now all he wants to do is move to the other side of his own table so he can see Paris. He has so many more questions. He has to get Paris alone for some real open communication now. After all, Nathaniel Kingsley knows so much more about Paris Aurinko now than anyone else in this room. People aren’t the kindest. Paris is lucky to be sorted in Hufflepuff – those people are the kindest. Nate glances around his own table of house mates and then excuses himself after jotting down a quick note that he crumples in his hand and casually drops for Paris as he passes him, seemingly on his way to speak to someone at the Gryffindor table – a total rouse. The note reads: We definitely need to have words. After the feast, there’s an empty classroom on the way to your common room. I’ll meet you in there. tagged; Paris Aurinko

[Paris Aurinko]

By the time he made it over to the boisterous yellow kids sitting in the middle of the hall Paris’s legs were shaking. They all started talking excitedly to him. Yet, all they received in return was an expression between anger and bewilderment. They were talking too quickly, and there were too many of them for him to follow the conversation. That was when something lands in his lap. Old paper.

People throwing rubbish at him, laughing at him, talking too quickly for him to keep up with – it all took him back. He stood, fists balled, ready to fight whoever thought they could mess with him – when he saw those bright blue eyes again. Nate had thrown the rubbish at him.

No one was making fun of him. Nate was leaving a message.

Paris took a deep breath, and deciding he was too stressed to stay there and eat, he figured to hell with it – no one told him he had to stay. So he didn’t. Paris’s Hufflepuff peers quickly forgot all about him as he stepped outside the great hall, pausing to catch his breath. It was only when he was free of the students did he read Nate’s message.

He didn’t know what the guy wanted from him. To threaten him probably. Still, an empty classroom sounded like the perfect way to avoid getting to know his peers, so he made his way up there to wait for Nate, he could think how to defend himself when he got up there. Likely he would get his ass kicked…but if he could disarm Nate he stood a chance.

Sitting cross legged on the teachers’ desk Paris sat, and waited, busying himself with looking about at the moving pictures, the strange trinkets, and the old walls. It was when he saw the handle move that he readied himself, raising his wand to throw an expelliamous and rush Nate before anything could happen: For someone so smart Nate had not realised that the threatened could easily become the threatener Mr Moneybags.

[Nathaniel Kingsley]

He doesn’t miss the fact that Paris has left the great hall early. Nate swallows nervously. Should he go after him? He glances at the spot where Paris had been sitting and sees there’s a clean plate there between the bodies of his classmates. The guy needs a friend, even if Nate is the worst person to befriend him. Right now, Nate is the only person who knows him. He casts a look around and decides it does not matter. Nate gathers some of the meal on a plate and heads out of the great hall towards that classroom he’s asked Paris to meet him in. He hopes he is there. Balancing both the plate and the goblet he snatched at the last minute, Nate heads for the classroom. He’s completely oblivious to the fact Paris is lying in wait to attack should this be something more than a peaceful conversation. Nate’s a bit...well, he has no right to be mad considering he didn’t exactly remain completely honest with Paris either. Neither of them had admitted to being students still and it made their situation better? Worse? More acceptable? He isn’t sure. The classroom is in sight now and Nate’s trying to find a way to hold the plate and goblet in one hand so he can open the door which is about the time he remembers magic. Duh. Being too young to cast unless he’s at school makes it a challenge to remember he now can cast because he’s at school. And his mind absently forgot given the nature of his current predicament. With the spell cast, the door opens of it’s own accord and there stands Nate with a plate of dinner in one hand and a goblet of pumpkin juice in the other. tagged; Paris Aurinko

[Paris Aurinko]

Tense as the doorknob turned, Paris flung out a cast, it screamed through the air and smacked into the goblet sending a shower pumpkin into the air, soaking the poor guy holding the tray. Already on his feet, Paris was halfway into another cast when his mind registered that no one was trying to harm him. Nate was just standing there, staring blankly at him.

Was that food he was holding. ”What the hell are you doing?” He signed angrily and noticed he had neither his quill, nor his writing pad. They were both still resting in the bottom of his bag, so all he could do to communicate his distaste is cross his arms over his chest and glare at Nate – a far cry from the ‘come hither’ look he’d been giving back in Hogsmead. The situation had changed drastically, and ultimately in both situations he had been looking just to survive.

[Nathaniel Kingsley]

His day had been going according to plan. Everything lined up with the schedule he has in place to keep him organized. His alarm had woken him at exactly seven and by seven fifteen he had been eating his porridge at the kitchen table while his brothers stumbled in unceremoniously at different times. Their disorganized, chaotic lives stress him out. It makes him continue to add more and more structure to his own life. Hogwarts makes it easier. He can plan his day around a schedule everyone has to follow. Its better. Less stress. And then Paris had walked in and been sorted. Nothing made sense anymore. His perfectly timed schedule told him right now he should still be in the great hall. The meal would end in twenty more minutes. Students would all be escorted to their common rooms by their house Prefects. By seven in the evening they would all be tucked away for the night. He took this to heart knowing nothing would stray off routine. Except he had. Nate is not expecting the spell to hit the pumpkin juice out of his hand when the door opened. He's not prepared for the rainfall of orange that soaks his hair, shoulders and drips down his face. His eyes close immediately to prevent it from entering them. He blindly tries to put the plate on some nearby surface so he can wipe his face clean of pumpkin juice. Failing that, he lifts the front of his shirt up - exposing his torso - to wipe his face. He completely misses the signs. Nate stares blankly. Paris stares angrily. "I brought you supper..." tagged; Paris Aurinko