REQUIEM - [h.p]

I; change

The old man wore a strange expression—confusion mixed with something else Edwyn couldn't name. Despite the man's less than intimidating appearance, Edwyn felt mildly uncomfortable under that stare; it was as if the old man was peering into his soul.

It only lasted for a second until the old man turned to the Professor, "Minerva, who's this lad?"

He wasn't particularly willing to speak with the odd man, so Edwyn decided it was most likely in his best interest to let the Professor answer the question. Though her tone did surprise him, it was almost... angry. "This is Edwyn Belmonte, and believe me when I say this, Albus. He is not going back to that orphanage."

Edwyn quickly turned to her in shock, though he felt oddly touched that the woman was standing up for him even though they barely knew each other. As if hearing his inner turmoil, McGonagall placed a calming hand atop his shoulder, and while he didn't particularly mind per se, the gesture felt incredibly foreign to him, and he tried to politely shift away from the touch. She gave a heartfelt apology and quickly retracted her hand. 

With a kind smile, she said, "Well, Mr Belmonte, go have a look around, just make sure not to break anything."

While he knew that the professor was trying to keep him from the conversation, Edwyn didn't mind in the least. The dismissal was something familiar in this strange yet exciting new world, and he was likewise dying to take a peek around. He had a slight feeling that this was a one-in-a-million chance that he wouldn't ever get again. 

-

Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was having a rather... peculiar end of her day. 

She had already spoken to two muggle-born children during the first half of her day, and although none of them had been in an orphanage, she certainly wasn't expecting anything as concerning as she had observed in the small building. 

The paint on the walls was peeling off and the state of the exterior made it look far more menacing than it had any right to be. How the building was still allowed to house children, she hadn't the faintest of an idea. The oddities only became more concerning once she had met one of the caretakers. 

She had asked for Mr Belmonte and after a long wait with an upsetting conversation with the woman about the young child, she had finally met the boy, sitting outside the visitor's centre. His face was faced down and a gloomy frown appeared to be pulling at his lips. A cold chill had run down her spine when she entered the boy's vicinity; an instinctual whisper from her brain telling her that something was not as it seemed.

The longer she spoke and observed, the more it became clear that her misgivings were misplaced. Edwyn Belmonte, as she has begun to realize, was an inquisitive, if rather strange boy. That wasn't to say that she disliked the child—no, on the contrary. His interest in transfiguration brought a smile to her face when she thought about it. Not to mention that spark of intelligence that gleamed in his eyes whenever she glanced at him. 

The issue at hand was how he had dealt with his use of accidental magic; in fact, she hadn't seen anything quite like the display she had witnessed when the boy quickly quelled the magic almost immediately after it had burst from him. Though, it was also surprising how much magic the boy did hold. She, while only holding a small sensitivity to magic, could vividly feel it in the air. It was cold and held darkness to it in which she couldn't ever hope to describe, yet it was also bright and warm, holding a distinctly fresh quality to it. Two contrasting characteristics that both did and did not make sense.