Post by Deleted on Feb 10, 2013 2:32:40 GMT -8
Oliver took the steps down towards the dungeons two at a time. He was taking the long route down. Passing the kitchens, the house elves were more than willing to let him take his pick of the fruit. Now, tossing the lemon into the air and catching it he walked slowly down the steps. The girl from earlier was an odd one he thought to himself. Had this place changed so much in the time he was gone? The corridors were silent now, and Oliver remembered this area. Stopping in mid stride he looked up. A large painting was hung on the wall just out of reach.
Oliver remembered a time where he would stand down here and chat. The old man in the painting was named Barnibus. He was missing from his painting, in fact the old man had another painting in a prestigious house somewhere in Europe. Oliver stood for a few minutes, reminiscing about playing games of riddles with the old man. A part of him wanted to wait until Barnibus came back. He remembered however, that he had a paper to write, and he finally had a catalyst.
Hitting the bottom of the steps, Oliver found a dark, damp corridor. Silent and smelling of mold Oliver couldn't be happier. It was the mold he was looking for. Kneeling he pressed himself to the floor. Examining the cracks and crevasses he fell into his work once again.
It took a while for him to realize he was still in the dungeons. He didn't know how long he had been working but he could hear the steps of students around and above him. Crouching in place he thought to himself. Pulling his wand from his pocket he pointed it at the wall. Moving it in circles he pulled some mold and scum from between the old bricks of the dungeon. Slipping a small vial from his pocket he deposited the black filth and held it up to see better. The darkness of the dungeon made it hard to see, so he flicked his wand, lighting the tip.
Oliver remembered a time where he would stand down here and chat. The old man in the painting was named Barnibus. He was missing from his painting, in fact the old man had another painting in a prestigious house somewhere in Europe. Oliver stood for a few minutes, reminiscing about playing games of riddles with the old man. A part of him wanted to wait until Barnibus came back. He remembered however, that he had a paper to write, and he finally had a catalyst.
Hitting the bottom of the steps, Oliver found a dark, damp corridor. Silent and smelling of mold Oliver couldn't be happier. It was the mold he was looking for. Kneeling he pressed himself to the floor. Examining the cracks and crevasses he fell into his work once again.
It took a while for him to realize he was still in the dungeons. He didn't know how long he had been working but he could hear the steps of students around and above him. Crouching in place he thought to himself. Pulling his wand from his pocket he pointed it at the wall. Moving it in circles he pulled some mold and scum from between the old bricks of the dungeon. Slipping a small vial from his pocket he deposited the black filth and held it up to see better. The darkness of the dungeon made it hard to see, so he flicked his wand, lighting the tip.
