Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2014 7:56:02 GMT -8
The courtyard that rested directly adjacent to the Astronomy Tower was always the first to thaw out after the bitter winter months. The sun had an unhindered path to melt the mountains of snow in the center, and the reflection of the beating rays cascading off of the plethora of windows assisted in defrosting the remainder. A few scattered icicles loomed dauntingly above the enclosure, threatening to plunge to the Earth at even the slightest hint of a brisk wind. In this tiny, untainted portion of Hogwarts landscape, Spring had already begun to settle in. In the eastern corner, miniscule dandelions had forced their way through the layers of dirt and sprouted into the inviting warmth of the sun.
The entire courtyard was unoccupied, as it would remain for the majority of the school year. This particular outlet was positioned in a less than convenient location. It was at the far end of Hogwarts, away from the more popularized areas near the Great Hall, The Quidditch Pitch, and the lake. As such, only select students who stumbled upon the area entirely by accident ever enjoyed the quaint, quiet comforts that it offered.
With the exception of Lily Evans, of course, who made it one of her personal ambitions to seek out and enjoy the solace of such abandoned places. An empty classroom, a quiet courtyard, a breath of silence, far away from the hustle and bustle of daily activities of the castle- these were the moments that she lived to embrace. With a delicate flick of her dainty wrist, Lily had dried off a lovely bench on the eastern wall- she yearned to feel the heat plastering her pale, ivory skin. Today offered a rare moment of relaxed tranquility, a free period in between her demanding coursework and prefect responsibilities. Instead of lugging her usual cargo- an over the shoulder messenger back brimming with 60 pounds of literature and quills- she had opted for a small, tattered back pack. Opening the antiquated bronze latch, she revealed the contents of her purse: nothing more than a few scrap bits of parchment, her favorite quill with a bottle of ink, and a dingy, soft covered novel with an obscure title. Gingerly, she pulled the archaic book from her dilapidated back pack, careful not to tear the worn pages even more. The cover was a deep ebony, but the gloss had faded and the hue had begun to seep off. The once beautiful silver engraving of the title had been worn down to practically nothing, but in the blinding white light of the courtyard, the words could still be understood: The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli.
This particular novel was for leisure, but thus far she had learned a great deal of the exhausting and infuriating facets of Republican Democracies and Hierarchies, all referring to the muggle world. It seemed to Lily that many of these historical practices were still in action today, and in the Wizarding World as well as the muggle realm. She sat comfortably on the bench, folding her legs Indian style beneath her, with the book tenderly nestled between her knees. Her copious amounts of red hair cascaded down her face and neck, playing lightly at the edges of the pages she read and successfully concealing her face from possible passerby's. Not that she was expecting any company within the generally uninhabited area. A smile played lightly on her lips as she immersed herself in the unique work of literature.
