Categories > Movies > Harry Potter > A Professor's Apprentice
Staring out on the mini metal "balcony", the goth and "hippy" rested their weight against the metal rails. Tyr was inside asleep in Andrew's bedroom.
The grief hit him hard. It hit everyone hard.
-Emlyn, an old friend-
-One that he never saw in Hogwarts and lost contact with until his trial was put on a set date(The crime he never committed), causing Pierre to run into the non magical world.-
-This is where he reunited with Emlyn. For a squib is allowed into the magical community, it's just that it doesn't state that a squib would feel welcomed. Which the blonde said that he never did. So here he stayed.-
So as the autumn sky turned a shade darker and the cities pigeons flew to their nests, Pierre and Pip grieved in how they did best. By remembering the good times.
Pierre recollected the broken shards of his memory last year, when he got shot twice. One in the thigh and the other in the butt (Defiantly not graceful). Then Emlyn, who was around that park at the same time, heard the bullets.
-"PIERRE!"-
-Emlyn's blonde hair flashed in front of him as he lay on the grass, crimson leaking from his wounds. Blocking the attacking gangs target, he remembered faintly how Emlyn protected him.-
-The broader man picked up a nearby branch from beside the trees, gripping it menacingly, his muscled arms swung it at anyone who came too near.-
-"Stay back!"Roared the blonde."If anyone comes closer I'll belt them!-"-
Then he fainted.
But, needless to say, even though violence was a key part of that memory, Emlyn was never one to leave anyone behind. The French man doubted his deceased friend would be in any house but Hufflepuff.
...Deceased.
Em is ...dead.
Wrapping his head around the fact that he would never see Emlyn's crooked smile, hear his (sometimes) brash accent, or have his warm bear hugs made his tears leak out again.
'I'll never see Em again-'
Skin touched skin. Pip enveloped the taller man. She too had tears streaming down her paler face, contrasting against her black lipstick and eyeliner.
Holding each other it wasn't hard to imagine what could have been if She hadn't told Emlyn to work in the mornings.
-"-We'll see you in the afternoons, Em, so then we could all meet together just like before-"-
She remembered the last thing she said to Emlyn after jokingly shoving him out of the yellow door.
-" And stay out, Heathen!" She had said yesterday after Em insulted her taste for Shakepearian literature(as well as Poetry)-
Not realising until her brunette friend nudged her with his skinny appendages, Pip had clung onto Pierre for dear life, squeezing all the air out of him like a fist to a carton of juice.
"S-sorry." Whispered the goth, wiping her black crop top's baggy sleeve against her wet face, smudging her black lips.
Whispering back to Pip who was still trying to dab away her tears. He enclosed her with his long arms, trying to provide comfort to his rarely crying friend. "It's alright, you have nothing to be sorry for." Drifting his tear filled gaze down at the city below, he caught glimpses of the everyday man, wondering if he had to worry for his safety. Letting his loose hair down as he shook his head, clean, brown curls tangled in the wind."It isn't your fault. It's the dea...-its those who ki-...Attacked him."
A pigeon's coo-coo sounded through the air. Guessing that the time was half five, he tried to think of strategies to make the death eaters die.
It would be risky.
95% of him didn't want to get his only friends left involved. 'Tyr can't fight against magic, for he has none.' The Frenchman turned his gaze to his best friend. Pip's lips were smudged black, her eyeliner dripped down her face giving her panda eyes. The purple haired girls hands were knotted into a leather skirt, ripped fish tights against her legs.
Even though he knew Pip to be a sassy, sneaky girl with the power to get you to do what she sees fit (Slytherin) and able to do magic, he still stubbornly thought that Pip and danger were a deadly combination in the state she was in know.
As well as Tyr.
True he wasn't the strongest but his strength of will power was quite unbeatable-
"Do you think we should go inside?" Pip croaked, her throat sore from crying. Pierre nodded as he opened the door, leading the purple goth into the living room.
Lighting an incense burner, he let the aroma drift. The small tendrils of smoke danced around the dim walls until Pierre lit all the candles he could find. Placing the matchbox back into a kitchen cupboard, the brunette padded back into the incense filled living room. Pip sat quietly on the same sofa that they had sat on hours before, tugging her leather skirt with white knuckles.
Again, Pierre repeated all he could think of, himself seated beside his friend with long legs drawn in to his chin."It's not your fault, Pip, you know it..." Muttered the lanky boy. Yanking a tissue from the coffee table in front, Pierre started washing away the left over makeup, revealing Pip's red and puffy eyes.
The goth sniffed, and with no tears left to cry she leant slightly against the brunette. Purple and dark brown joined into a hairy mess when one embraced the other.
Neither teenager knew what to do. With Emlyn gone, the only source of adult help, the newly made trio(ex-dubbed "quadro") were defenceless. They all had considered the police but knew that they would be no help. A murder by magic was easily cleaned up and left with no trace. And with Pierre having been wrongly convicted of assault and attack during his last school years, neither Pip or Tyr were ready to give up their scruffy friend yet.
Amongst all the confusion and crying, Pierre knew what he had to do. Walking Pip into her room, he told her to rest and that things would be sorted in the morning. A trail of light flickered into Andrew's old bedroom as the Frenchman checked up on The, the older man's body partly hanging out of the bed(in any other circumstance he would howl in laughter). Scribbling on a neon sticky note and slapping it to Tyr's trainer, he quickly collected all he would need.
His wand(in the tie-dyed jumpers large pockets)
Spare change(muggle currency)
A kitchen knife(just in case)
His mobile Nokia brick phone
The tall figure walked out into the early night, depending the flat's metal stairs without a sound. A light breeze pushed his hood up, revealing long hair constructed inside a bun apart from a few stray strands. A sharp look filled the teen's olive face even though he wore a tie-dyed jumper two sizes too big. Turning down the streets and tight passage ways he escaped into the night time fog.
*
Starting with a yelp, Tyr's solemn dreams were fractured when a frantic Pip sped into the room. Nearly knocking over all ornaments and what not, the older man's lips teased into a quick smile. He knew Pip to be frantic when she lost something under her possession, but really, was this needed? Flickering his phone on the burning white screen read out: 8:46.
"Is this necessary? Pip..." He yawned, flexing his tattooed arms,"if you've lost something just ask me...Was it one of your Romeo and Juliet novels?" Upon seeing nothing but fear across the purple goth's features Tyr knew what had happened. "JE-SUS! I knew Fournier was a tw*t, I just didn't know he was an imbecilic one!" Rushing around the bedroom he was borrowing, The saw a flash of bright pink.'Funny, I don't wear pi-' A neon pink label was attached to a well-used trainer. Pulling it off his shoe he called for Pip before reading it out loud:
"I've just gone to the place that is known...I'm Going to...avenge Em..."Stumbling over the cr*ppy handwriting, Tyr muttered the last sentence before embracing Pip in a hug."Do not come and find me, the black cloaks will get you too, stay safe and know that if I don't return that I love you all like the fa...family I never had~Fournier..."
The grief hit him hard. It hit everyone hard.
-Emlyn, an old friend-
-One that he never saw in Hogwarts and lost contact with until his trial was put on a set date(The crime he never committed), causing Pierre to run into the non magical world.-
-This is where he reunited with Emlyn. For a squib is allowed into the magical community, it's just that it doesn't state that a squib would feel welcomed. Which the blonde said that he never did. So here he stayed.-
So as the autumn sky turned a shade darker and the cities pigeons flew to their nests, Pierre and Pip grieved in how they did best. By remembering the good times.
Pierre recollected the broken shards of his memory last year, when he got shot twice. One in the thigh and the other in the butt (Defiantly not graceful). Then Emlyn, who was around that park at the same time, heard the bullets.
-"PIERRE!"-
-Emlyn's blonde hair flashed in front of him as he lay on the grass, crimson leaking from his wounds. Blocking the attacking gangs target, he remembered faintly how Emlyn protected him.-
-The broader man picked up a nearby branch from beside the trees, gripping it menacingly, his muscled arms swung it at anyone who came too near.-
-"Stay back!"Roared the blonde."If anyone comes closer I'll belt them!-"-
Then he fainted.
But, needless to say, even though violence was a key part of that memory, Emlyn was never one to leave anyone behind. The French man doubted his deceased friend would be in any house but Hufflepuff.
...Deceased.
Em is ...dead.
Wrapping his head around the fact that he would never see Emlyn's crooked smile, hear his (sometimes) brash accent, or have his warm bear hugs made his tears leak out again.
'I'll never see Em again-'
Skin touched skin. Pip enveloped the taller man. She too had tears streaming down her paler face, contrasting against her black lipstick and eyeliner.
Holding each other it wasn't hard to imagine what could have been if She hadn't told Emlyn to work in the mornings.
-"-We'll see you in the afternoons, Em, so then we could all meet together just like before-"-
She remembered the last thing she said to Emlyn after jokingly shoving him out of the yellow door.
-" And stay out, Heathen!" She had said yesterday after Em insulted her taste for Shakepearian literature(as well as Poetry)-
Not realising until her brunette friend nudged her with his skinny appendages, Pip had clung onto Pierre for dear life, squeezing all the air out of him like a fist to a carton of juice.
"S-sorry." Whispered the goth, wiping her black crop top's baggy sleeve against her wet face, smudging her black lips.
Whispering back to Pip who was still trying to dab away her tears. He enclosed her with his long arms, trying to provide comfort to his rarely crying friend. "It's alright, you have nothing to be sorry for." Drifting his tear filled gaze down at the city below, he caught glimpses of the everyday man, wondering if he had to worry for his safety. Letting his loose hair down as he shook his head, clean, brown curls tangled in the wind."It isn't your fault. It's the dea...-its those who ki-...Attacked him."
A pigeon's coo-coo sounded through the air. Guessing that the time was half five, he tried to think of strategies to make the death eaters die.
It would be risky.
95% of him didn't want to get his only friends left involved. 'Tyr can't fight against magic, for he has none.' The Frenchman turned his gaze to his best friend. Pip's lips were smudged black, her eyeliner dripped down her face giving her panda eyes. The purple haired girls hands were knotted into a leather skirt, ripped fish tights against her legs.
Even though he knew Pip to be a sassy, sneaky girl with the power to get you to do what she sees fit (Slytherin) and able to do magic, he still stubbornly thought that Pip and danger were a deadly combination in the state she was in know.
As well as Tyr.
True he wasn't the strongest but his strength of will power was quite unbeatable-
"Do you think we should go inside?" Pip croaked, her throat sore from crying. Pierre nodded as he opened the door, leading the purple goth into the living room.
Lighting an incense burner, he let the aroma drift. The small tendrils of smoke danced around the dim walls until Pierre lit all the candles he could find. Placing the matchbox back into a kitchen cupboard, the brunette padded back into the incense filled living room. Pip sat quietly on the same sofa that they had sat on hours before, tugging her leather skirt with white knuckles.
Again, Pierre repeated all he could think of, himself seated beside his friend with long legs drawn in to his chin."It's not your fault, Pip, you know it..." Muttered the lanky boy. Yanking a tissue from the coffee table in front, Pierre started washing away the left over makeup, revealing Pip's red and puffy eyes.
The goth sniffed, and with no tears left to cry she leant slightly against the brunette. Purple and dark brown joined into a hairy mess when one embraced the other.
Neither teenager knew what to do. With Emlyn gone, the only source of adult help, the newly made trio(ex-dubbed "quadro") were defenceless. They all had considered the police but knew that they would be no help. A murder by magic was easily cleaned up and left with no trace. And with Pierre having been wrongly convicted of assault and attack during his last school years, neither Pip or Tyr were ready to give up their scruffy friend yet.
Amongst all the confusion and crying, Pierre knew what he had to do. Walking Pip into her room, he told her to rest and that things would be sorted in the morning. A trail of light flickered into Andrew's old bedroom as the Frenchman checked up on The, the older man's body partly hanging out of the bed(in any other circumstance he would howl in laughter). Scribbling on a neon sticky note and slapping it to Tyr's trainer, he quickly collected all he would need.
His wand(in the tie-dyed jumpers large pockets)
Spare change(muggle currency)
A kitchen knife(just in case)
His mobile Nokia brick phone
The tall figure walked out into the early night, depending the flat's metal stairs without a sound. A light breeze pushed his hood up, revealing long hair constructed inside a bun apart from a few stray strands. A sharp look filled the teen's olive face even though he wore a tie-dyed jumper two sizes too big. Turning down the streets and tight passage ways he escaped into the night time fog.
*
Starting with a yelp, Tyr's solemn dreams were fractured when a frantic Pip sped into the room. Nearly knocking over all ornaments and what not, the older man's lips teased into a quick smile. He knew Pip to be frantic when she lost something under her possession, but really, was this needed? Flickering his phone on the burning white screen read out: 8:46.
"Is this necessary? Pip..." He yawned, flexing his tattooed arms,"if you've lost something just ask me...Was it one of your Romeo and Juliet novels?" Upon seeing nothing but fear across the purple goth's features Tyr knew what had happened. "JE-SUS! I knew Fournier was a tw*t, I just didn't know he was an imbecilic one!" Rushing around the bedroom he was borrowing, The saw a flash of bright pink.'Funny, I don't wear pi-' A neon pink label was attached to a well-used trainer. Pulling it off his shoe he called for Pip before reading it out loud:
"I've just gone to the place that is known...I'm Going to...avenge Em..."Stumbling over the cr*ppy handwriting, Tyr muttered the last sentence before embracing Pip in a hug."Do not come and find me, the black cloaks will get you too, stay safe and know that if I don't return that I love you all like the fa...family I never had~Fournier..."
Sign up to rate and review this story