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Hogsmeade might not have been the most interesting of places for a sixteen year old boy to be visiting but it felt great to get the opportunity to head out the castle for a moment and breathe in the ever so slightly different air. Fynley would never describe himself as claustrophobic, in fact he quite enjoyed being in amongst the crowd and surrounded by people but there was something so repetitive and suffocating about seeing the same stone walls over and over again that it was beginning to get to him.
He had no intention with his movements, nor did he have a particular shop he needed to visit or someone he was going to meet so down the street he trod. The thin layer of snow that was beginning to settle on the ground crunched beneath his feet. His hands were shoved in his pockets although his body language wasn’t defensive, he was just cold. If someone was to cross his path he’d be happy to have a conversation with them if it was riveting enough.
The street however was looking alarmingly quiet and all that was in his immediate view was the puff of hot air coming from his mouth as he sighed.
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