When Winter ends and Spring comes
disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters they belong exclusively to Mr. William Joyce and Dreamworks.
Everyone has a story to tell. Whether it's about their first love or their first job or their near death experience. I don't think my story is particularly interesting, but North and Manny insist. They say that all the Guardian stories must be written down for future members to know. I am a little skeptical; I don't think there is anything to learn from my own story that you can't learn from others. It's rather mundane, I think, involving the discovery of my past and how interlocking past events can link so many different people together. A rather sad past, but I can't complain because it brought me a new family. Everyone's here, sitting around this rather rotund table watching me as I pen down my personal adventure in this massive book.
Manny and North sit across from me. Manny smiling in fatherly pride, while North grins excitedly, truly ecstatic for another grand tale, his words, written down. I expect it is because in writing down my story another one of his heroic deeds gets recorded. That's North for you, a true Gryffindor at heart, one of the most creative wizards I know. He comes up with the most brilliant toys, just the right mixture of muggle and magic to inspire wonder in children. He is also the best story teller, his favorite tales are the adventures of his youth. He likes to think himself a magical Cossack bandit. Manny looks at North's enthusiasm in mild amusement. Manny has been that silent but distant pillar of support for so long. At one time I resented him for being so close-mouthed on things. But I guess I understand things from his perspective better now. And I guess he is not perfect, there could have been better understanding on both our parts
Sandy sits next to North, sleeping as usual. He is very much a night owl, working his best when the moon is up. Despite his lack of consciousness, his presence is still reassuring. He is the dependable older brother, who is always there to give you a hand. I cannot count the number of times when he was the silent presence next to you listening to your woes. He is the best secret keeper out of the group of us, though it helps that he can't talk. But I suspect even if he could talk he still would hold that title. Sandy doesn't judge you, well, not much. He will tell you when he thinks you're being stupid. And for a mute he sure knows how to make himself heard.
Next to Sandy is Tooth, who smiles and talks excitedly to her younger sister. Tooth, the only other girl of the group, but one of the sweetest and most courageous people you could meet. She has been an older sister to me since we met that fateful day on the Hogwarts express. I don't think I ever met anyone who could pull off putting on as many bright colors as possible on their person. But it really matches her personality. I don't know how many people who could be so chipper despite being rained upon after back-to-back exams the whole morning. But that is Tooth.
Then there is Aster, who sits next to me. I have been glancing at him as I write this. He notices and reaches out and laces his hand with mine. I smile shyly at the gesture. This whole relationship has been kind of new to me. I have been out on a couple of dates with others before, but nothing long-term. Nothing like this. This path I have been on with Aster since we first met has been long and hard. We have always clashed, polar opposites in some ways, but in other ways so similar. He was always serious and hard-working, while I was carefree and lazy. But we were both lonely, our rather sad past hindering us from forming close friendships with most of our peers. Maybe that is why we kept finding each other after all these years? You would think after the first couple of explosive encounters, we would avoid each other like the plague. Yet, we kept colliding into each other with such force that eventually we formed some kind of companionship. Though we still argued like cats and dogs even after becoming friends. He can be infuriating at one moment, and then undeniably sweet in another. He would yell at me for enchanting snowballs to hit students passing by. Then an hour later he would be yelling at bullies to stop bothering me. We can get into the most heated arguments, he would shout out things without thinking, then apologize later. It started off with small notes at the breakfast table and then became a sprig of flowers left on top of my books. Then there were moments when he understood me when no one else could, when the crushing weight of loneliness was too much.
But I am getting off topic. My story begins when I first stepped on the Hogwarts Express.
a/n: let me know what you guys think in the reviews.