Another Star- Polaris Black

9- Unsettling Premonitions

[Words: 4544]

1975, 6th December- Saturday

Polaris sat alone in his dorm; the weight of his mother's expectations heavy in his hands as he clutched the letter tightly.

It was a constant reminder of the pressure he felt to meet her high standards. She had high hopes, that was for certain.

He had thought that coming to Hogwarts would bring a sense of liberation, a fresh start, but now he couldn't help but feel frustrated and tired. There was an unexplained unease that clung to him, a nagging feeling that something wasn't right, yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He traced his finger over the lines of his mother's formal words, her strict tone echoing in his mind. Good grades, excellence in every aspect of his studies—it was always the same.

It felt suffocating, as if he was constantly dragging the weight of his life through Hogwarts. He sighed heavily, rolling his eyes in exasperation. He couldn't help but wonder if his brothers received the same relentless barrage of letters or if it was a special treatment reserved for him.

With a surge of frustration, Polaris rose from his seat and made his way to the fireplace.

The amber flames reflected in his piercing grey eyes, seeming to flicker with an intensity that matched the turmoil within him. Clenching the letter tightly in his hand, he crumpled it.

Running his hand over his face, Polaris tried to shake off the weariness that clung to him.

It was still late, and his dorm room was empty, his roommates off pursuing their own interests. Curfew hadn't yet arrived, but the letter had drained his motivation to complete his homework. The mere thought of burying himself in textbooks now held no appeal.

As he stared into the dancing flames, a wave of catharsis washed over him. With a determined gesture, he let go, tossing the crumpled letter into the fire.

The flames eagerly devoured the paper, their heat seemingly intensifying. The fire responded to his intense emotions, as if dancing to the rhythm of his release.

In the glow of the fire, Polaris stood, his expression unreadable, as he allowed the flames to consume the remnants of his frustration. The crackling and popping of the paper mingled with the swirling energy in the room, creating an atmosphere of release and renewal.

It was as if the fire itself had become a reflection of his inner turmoil, blazing with a fervour that matched his own.

As the flames reached higher, casting their flickering light across the room, Polaris felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

He had unburdened himself, even if only symbolically, and he could feel a weightlifting from his shoulders. He shouldn't let his mother get to him.

He stood there for a moment, lost in his thoughts, the flames casting shadows upon his face.

The room was filled with an intense warmth, both from the fire and the newfound sense of liberation that coursed through him. With a renewed determination, Polaris turned away from the fireplace, leaving the glowing embers behind.

The once vibrant fire seemed to lose its vigour, as if sighing in resignation, as his presence departed. The dancing flames gradually subsided, their mesmerizing display diminishing into a gentle flicker.

With each step he took away from the fireplace, the remnants of the letter crumbled and turned to ash, scattering lightly in the air. The room, once filled with the warmth and intensity of the fire, now carried only the quiet aftermath—a hushed stillness punctuated by the faint crackling of dying embers.