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Hogwarts RPG Name: Charlie Upstead Gryffindor Fifth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Aurelio Kaiser Slytherin Third Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Alexei Petrov Slytherin First Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Yves Flamel Slytherin Sixth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Achilles Zacharias Ravenclaw Third Year Diagon Alley Proprietor:
Ezekiel Ransom-Kruus Ollivanders x12 x12
| Lovely™ | Captain Hurted | Ariana's Bane | Resident Antagonist | Unparalleled Delight If there was one thing Daxton knew (though, as it happened, he knew much more than just one thing) it was that it was of critical importance to not be caught off guard during any lesson at Hogwarts. In his experience, most Hogwarts craziness tended to occur during lessons, and even when it did not, it was then that the professors liked to throw sudden challenges their way. Not to mention, it was during lessons that most students tended to zone out, or else focus on only the subject of whatever class they were in, opening themselves up to an attack from any other angle.
For these reasons, Daxton was still very much alert to his surroundings, though to most onlookers, that may not have seemed the case. He had diverted his gaze from the two men at the front of the class, and was now looking intently out of the window on the other side of the room. Still drumming the fingers of one hand on his desk, Daxton considered the question that had been put to them, though made no effort to provide an answer, even in verbal or written form, not even for his own notes. Still, the clay before him remained untouched.
The Dark Arts. It was a subject that Daxton had put a lot of thought and research into - to the surprise of very few people, undoubtedly. They were considered 'wrong', at least to most academics as well as the general populace of the wizarding world - most notably, the Ministry of Magic, and the Department of Law Enforcement.
Daxton was still torn on the subject of right and wrong. Ichihara had apparently done her best to instil some sense of morality into him, but even now, Daxton's only sense of right and wrong was what he had read in books. He knew some of what was considered right, and some of what was considered wrong, and had kept a mental log of all the things that overlapped or fit into neither category, but his own moral compass was still greatly lacking, if not totally absent. Nevertheless, the things he knew were supposed to be wrong, he still did, and still found no issue in doing, and it continued to baffle him that anyone would do the 'right' thing, purely because it was considered 'right', even if they did not want to do it.
When it came to the Dark Arts, Daxton knew - from most things he had read - that they were considered 'wrong'. But, it begged a whole host of questions: did practitioners of the Dark Arts agree to their 'wrong'ness, and partake anyway? Or were they the sort to believe that they were in the right? Or did they, perhaps, like Daxton, simply do what they wanted to do, regardless of whether or not their actions were considered by others to be acceptable? No doubt, there was no sole answer to those questions. No doubt the Dark Arts attracted all of these people and more, but Daxton could not help but wonder about the details of this particular demographic, and whether it could help him answer the biggest questions he had about himself. He glanced around the room, at each student in the room, the up to Hirsch and Toussaint, then out of the window once more.
It would be best to remain silent.
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