
| QUOTE |
| Quinn Donoghue slipped on a new Slytherin green sweater Maeve had sent in the post that morning. It was by far one of the softest, and best, things Maeve had ever knit him. It was so soft that Quinn could wear it next to skin if he pleased. Maeve had bought it from this nut old woman who lived next to them. She would hand spin with yarn and would store it with lavender, and sweet orange oils and the yarn would pick up the faint smell of the two oils. It was terribly expensive, but well worth it. Usually, Quinn would only receive a few of these sweaters/scarves/hats a year, however, this year Maeve seemed to be outdoing her self. She had already sent him a berry coloured hat and a berry coloured scarf a few weeks early. Along with putting on his green sweater, over a tie dye tee-shirt, Quinn pulled on his berry hat, not because it was particularly cold out (even though it was a startling 40 degrees, when the normal low was at least 50 in Scotland), but just people he wanted to ear his fun berry hat. Quinn also put of a pair of flannel pants (he had been walking around the dorm in boxers, no one was there any way), he had decided, on a moments moment, to go and visit Hagrid. He needed to speak to the giant about Cian’s current living arrangement anyway. The Irishman had had the Dementor dream again and had once again, not been able to fall back to sleep. He had wanted to write Maeve or Brodie about it earlier, but hadn’t found the time or energy to draw up a letter to either one of his parents. He knew what would result; he’d end up getting some speech about how he needed to embrace the dream and dive into some Divination texts books and find out what it was all about. But he didn’t want to. At all. He didn’t want to open his mind to the possibilities of what his dream could mean. So instead, he shoved it to the back of his mind, stuffed his feet into his Birks, and started to head out of the castle, a bag with a gigantic blanket, scarf and hat all stuffed inside. It was for Hagrid. Quinn had a habit of developing relationships with the staff more than the students. He didn’t know why, but he related more to the odd balls. “At first flash of Eden, we race down to the sea standing there on freedoms shore, waiting for the sun, waiting for the sun, waiting for the sun. Can you feel it now that spring has come, and its time to live in the scattered sun?” He sung quietly to himself as he made his way down to the small cottage, and also pulled his berry beanie down farther around his head. It was rather nippy out. Waiting for the sun is right. He thought absently looking at the restless forest that lay before him. It wasn’t entirely uncommon from Quinn to sneak out into the forest to smoke, there were a few patches of dragonweed in there, but tonight nothing could force the boy in there. Perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but even the trees seemed to shift uncomfortably in the stiff breeze. Something wasn’t right, and the closer to the cottage, and in turn the forest, the more he wanted to turn around, but didn’t for almost fear of turning his back on the forest. Quinn banged heatedly on Hagrid’s door, far too uncomfortable with the shifting shadows the forest was casting. It was a rare occasion when Quinn would work him self up to the point of fear, but something in his stomach told him to be weary of the forest, and Quinn’s hunches had a peculiar way of being correct. Finally, after what seemed like to be several hours, the door was pulled back, and he was greeted by a large, quite worried, Hagrid. “I’ve brought you your blanket and hat and scar—Adel?” |
