 supercalifragilistic expialidocious
Young Balthamos sat alone in an empty carriage he found. His face was glued to the window as he gazed outside. The view was… okay.
He had some mixed feelings about this year. He had spent all last one being excited to finally attend Hogwarts, especially after hearing so many epic stories. He wanted to have his own stories and memories already. Life at home was pretty boring, being the oldest child meant less attention from everyone. In general, it wasn’t fun sitting at home listening to your young baby brother scream all day and your parents making weird nonsense noises to please him. Merlin! His brother is so annoying.
But around a week ago he was pleasantly informed that he wasn’t really going to Hogwarts, but to this fancy shmancy French school. “Pretty sticks”. Ughhh… all because of some fog. He had waited so long to be one of those kids on the boats and to be in the Ravenclaw common room like the rest of his family. All Boots are proud Ravenclaws, and he will be too.
Anyways, pardon my French but “c’est la vie”; Pretty Sticks here he comes. |