A/N: This was something i was playing around with. Let me know if i should keep it up! Also, doesnt need saying but i dont own harry potter or anything associated with him. POSEIDON on the other hand is all mine . and i wasnt joking, if you review you will get a cookie. or maybe two. thats just how nice i am!
His eyes had opened.
The sun had finally risen and dimly shone through the opaque, cobwebbed infested windows onto the room so that its contents were visible: several teenagers were all in bunk beds sound asleep.
Except for one.
The sun hit his face first and you could see the dark circles around his eyes, with more bags under them than in a supermarket. His dark brown hair, curly and untidy, flew all across his face, as though he felt no need to tame it. His tan skin seemed to glow as the iridescent light hit him. His entire face seemed to reek of a person who hadn't been sleeping, afraid of the creatures of a dream's world had in store for him. But what was most noticeable was his eyes: they seemed a slight grayish at first, but as you took a closer look, they seemed independent of his body, as the gray turned out to be all sorts of colors just swirling around rapidly.
He yawned and sat up. Realizing he was the only one up, he got out of bed and stretched out a bit, his slender tall frame cramped from the short beds. Then, he ran off to his favorite place in the orphanage: The roof.
He got up there and sat down, watching the sun make its ascent, as a city woke up underneath: Lights in apartments finally went on, bars shut down, the first commuters were out the door. Cars began to rumble and construction started resuming. The trains started moving and buses were honking. The city's rhythm had begun to be reinstated.
He sat and watched all this quietly, his thoughts his only sanctuary.
Something cold had begun to drape on his shoulders, Morningssss to youss Serpentoungessss the snake slithered.
The boy smiled. I told you, call me by my name, Poseidon, he said.
If snakes could laugh, this one just did Posssssedion isssn't as fun as SSSSerpentoungesss, the snake replied.
If you insist, Nithala, He regarded the snake. She had been his companion since he was taken from his old home, since before his parents died. She had grown as he had, to about 5 feet. She was a solid emerald green with eyes as yellow as yellow had ever been.
He sighed at the thought of home. None of these kids had any home but The Orphanage; they all had never known the true feeling of a mother's loving embrace, or a father's pride. They never had an uncle to look up to, or a grandmother to learn from, but they all knew what happened, they all knew who they were. There had been a curious lack of information about Poseidon's heritage, whether his parents were alive, and where they had come from. Like the other kids, he had always been asking the caretaker, Ms. Jones as a child.
"Lost," she used to say. "They were lost at sea. That's all I know,"
Lost. Never dead or deceased. Lost. It was the one hope that Poseidon could cling onto in this desolate, cold place, where dreams ended and nightmares began.
Of course, that wasn't the only way he was different.
He was… different. He really didn't know how, he just knew.
The sleeping faces of the kids downstairs seemed to fly by in his head. He remembered how one of them, named Eric, had always been a bully when they were all younger. Stealing desserts, and yo-yos, priceless artifacts in youth, no one had the courage to stand up to him, for he was 6 and they were 5.
Except for Poseidon. They got into a bit of an argument about his actions, and Eric raised his hand to hit him, but as his hand fell, Poseidon had punched him first, as a normal 5 year old would have. Except for the fact that Eric was blown off his feet and into a wall 10 feet away.
Poseidon couldn't explain this, nor could he explain how after falling from a 3rd story window (he was trying to fly), he bounced off with not a scratch. Nor could he explain how he could talk to Nithala, but nevertheless, it had become taboo to talk to Poseidon and his "freaky powers." Poseidon didn't mind this. He rather enjoyed being on his own or with his snake, although it did get a bit lonely.
Poseidon snapped out of his thoughts as footsteps approached. The door to the roof flung open and there stood the one person Poseidon could consider a friend during his stay here.
Victor Johnstone. Vic had come to the orphanage a few years ago. His parents had died in a car crash. He, however cheated Death of a third victim, and escaped out of that with a few bruises. Victor seemed to be Different, as Poseidon did, which was the basis of their entire friendship, as it was taboo to be seen talking to him as well.
It was also both of their birthdays.
Poseidon smiled. "Happy birthdays Victor," he said as he waved his hand and 2 bottles of Coke zoomed from below, to the cries of an angry store manager. "Join me in a cheer?"
Victor walked over and took a seat next to Poseidon. He took one of the bottles of Coke and casually opened it, as though he just took it off the shelf of a store. "Stealing, from poor Zuri now?" he joked.
Zuri managed the deli grocery downstairs. He was a man of few words and even less sense. "Oh, you know I'll pay him later." Poseidon said lightly, as they clinked bottles.
"To fourteen years." Victor proclaimed in a rather, anticlimactic way.
"To twenty-eight years…. Between us." Poseidon finished rather lamely.
They drank their fill, their eyes to the skies, neither saying anything, just listening. Listening to the sound of the skies, the sound of themselves, the sound of Nithala smelling the air. Listening to the world and the many things so many people over and underlook. The sounds of the trees growing and the grass singing. The sounds of kids calling and the sun rising. The sound of the earth spinning and the world living.
Poseidon looked at his friend. Victor was cool and relaxed, his eyes bore no signs of not being able to sleep. His entire outlook on life was positive. His light complexion seemed to radiate too much happiness for his small, thin frame to handle, as though he'd start bouncing to the heavens above. He had begun attempting to grow a mustache, with a small kind of squashed nose to with it (a souvenir from the car crash). His eyes were a dark brown and had that mischievous glint in them. As though he were planning something to pull your leg
"I'm not in much of a mood for breakfast." Poseidon said after awhile.
"Neither am I, Pos, Neither am I, I think I would rather enjoy life a little while longer," Victor cracked, for it was a known fact that orphanage food was never the best
He looked at Poseidon, and noticed the stress lines along with the dark circles. "More nightmares?" He asked a little more seriously and Poseidon nodded.
"It's just…" How do you tell someone who's not you how you feel? Poseidon thought. How would he understand? "They're nightmares of the mysteries in my life," Poseidon murmured. "Mostly my parents…"
"Anything more?" Victor asked.
Poseidon thought and tried to recall it. Yes, he had seen the normal red and green lights battling, but this time there was more.
"The lights… had names." He realized aloud. "Gryffindor and Slytherin."
"You think those were your parents' names?" Victor pressed.
"No idea… although death might've been a blessing with names like those." Poseidon said, smiling for the first time in what felt like years.
Victor laughed. He was relieved to see his friend was feeling better. Poseidon had been plagued by these nightmares; thrashing in bed, crying, the normal things, but what was most frightening was when he laid still, his face calm and serene. For some reason, that was what frightened Victor the most, when Poseidon was having nightmares. He made himself seem fine, when deep down inside he was screaming for help.
Suddenly, the door burst open. Both boys jumped a mile high startled, for neither heard nor felt someone coming. They turned around to see Ms. Jones standing firm with her arms folded.
Ms. Jones was the primary caretaker of the Orphanage. She was old enough to demand respect yet young enough to admire the stars. Her graying hair was always neatly in a bun, and her arms always had some cleaning implement (Today it was Pine Sol). Her dark, midnight skin, made everything around her positively pale. She had been around as long as anyone could remember. Rumors were that she once lived in the orphanage herself. Either way, she was fair, wise, and still had her wits about her, from all the mental exercise attempting to give kids from broken homes a second chance gives.
Her light brown eyes focused down on both Poseidon and Victor, even as they came down the stairs. They knew they weren't supposed to be on the roof, but on the same page, they knew that Ms. Jones wouldn't have punished them on their birthdays.
Most of the other kids had gone from the bedroom by the time the two friends got down there. They made to continue down to the breakfast hall, but Ms. Jones motioned them inside, shooed away the last stragglers, and closed the door with such finality that any would-be eavesdroppers thought twice before unwisely provoking her wrath.
Poseidon was a little nervous, Victor was a little anxious. "Whatever it is…" they both began
"I didn't do it." Poseidon finished
"It was all me." Victor put in.
Ms. Jones smiled. It wasn't the smile she was famous for when she caught someone in the act of improper behavior. No, this was a much rarer smile; a smile a proud parent might shine on a straight A report card.
"Someone is here to see both of you." She smiled as though there were no tomorrow, as though this smile was the only thing stopping her from breaking down into tears.
That's when they entered the room.