It wasn't unusual for him to be wandering the darkened corridors of the great castle at this late hour. He traversed the corridors nightly, watching the deepening shadows gradually relent to the weak stream of light in the frigid winters when the mountain reduced the castle's sunlight.
His heavy, maroon coat hung loosely around his body as the fur trailed silently behind him. No one would bother him, he knew that much. Most preferred to linger within the warmth of the faint heating charms within their rooms. Those charms were not effective against the cold that they were faced with, but were still better than nothing. Only the people who were able to control the fires they conjured were allowed to keep burning fires during winter.
He didn't need the fire though. His late nights wandering the castle had allowed him to grow accustomed to the cold in a way few others were. It was only the days where even the castle windows were covered in a thick layer of ice that were uncomfortable to him. He could control the fire he conjured nonetheless. He disliked the idea of allowing another person to be better at him in anything. It showed that he had not applied himself enough to whichever task he was working on. That was the only reason he was able to remain out of trouble despite everything he did.
Durmstrang would not like to lose their most gifted student to another school. They were too proud to allow such a thing to happen, and that was to his advantage. He produced the results they wished for, and they allowed him to do as he wished, within reason of course. The arrangement benefitted them both.
Everything was deathly silent which was somewhat unusual considering the house elves were still working on the level beneath the one he currently stood on. While soft, they could still generally be heard by the low murmur of them speaking with each other as they worked. His hearing was barely sharp enough to catch them, but he often did.
A cold breeze passed, lazily catching the edge of one of the tapestries. The castle would be empty in a few days. All the students would leave to return home. They were all excitedly planning what they would be doing with the time given to them, who they would meet where and how. They were planning their break, from the strict walls and the rush of learning, that they had been looking forward to leaving to ever since arriving within the castle. They were all pleased to be returning home.
Sometimes he wished he could share their excitement, but he also knew that he never truly had a home. This castle was as close to a home as he had ever experienced. He knew more about the castle than he did the building that his parents owned. He felt more joy within these cold walls than the unfeeling ones of the castle where his parents lived.
There really wasn't anything to go home to. All he had to show for the place he had been raised was a father whose body knew more alcohol than water, and a woman who cared more for the mirror than her own child. He had no siblings, and he was almost grateful for that. He was incredibly thankful for fewer children having to live a life like his.
He doubted his parents would even realize whether he ever arrived or not. He knew they had barely noted the first time he had left for the mysterious Durmstrang castle. They hadn't even had to pay the amount requested. They had given him a Gringotts vault that would continuously have as much gold as he required. They had made sure of that, not wanting to be bothered by anything they did not need to be bothered by.
It was a wonder that they even managed to have him.
He had often wondered if his parents even recognized each other anymore. It had been several years since he had seen them eating at the same table, or even exchanging a glance with the other. In fact, he didn't think he had ever seen that. The idea of them interacting seemed foreign and unrelatable to the two figures.
It didn't matter. He would be eighteen in only three weeks. He would receive full access to his parents' vaults and their long forgotten family vault. They had all been stagnant as their owners had succumbed to the pressures and hardships of life. Their family had been great and well-known when his grandfather had been head of the family. He wished to return his family name to what it once had been, and hopefully remove the mockery that came with his name.
Until then he could wait. He knew what he needed to do and how. Now he only needed the experience his grandfather could have eased him into had his father not been the greedy man he was. Despite the occurrence looking like an accident, he knew what the reality was. The truth had always been so clear to him, but no one else. Their family was a secretive one so no one who was not a part of their family was able to tell lies from truth.
He liked it that way. He liked the darkness and mystery that had always shrouded his family just as he liked the darkness and silence that covered the castle at night. It allowed him to learn everything he needed to be as successful as he needed to be. It allowed everyone to overlook him as they believed him to be unimportant to the grander whole.
People were always so naïve.
The darkness was always more fearsome than the light. It was always more dangerous to the unsuspecting person, more intelligent than the average person, while posing an effective defence for the wielder.
It was everything he needed for his future while encompassing everything he needed to get rid of his past, the only thing that still held him back.
AN: Written for Caerphilly Catapults: Round 11
Year: 1225
Seeker: Write about an ordinary day