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Simon Mordue
I'm sorry.
Thu Sep 22, 2016 12:23
98.19.186.252

The wagon had been dim (Simon preferred to think this was for the sake of authenticity rather than to hide inadequate cleaning) and deeply uncomfortable, but it had had one thing going for it: it had been confined. It was only when he stepped off of it and into the Labyrinth Gardens, brown eyes blinking like those of a startlingly anthropomorphic mole as he emerged into the bright sunlight, that Simon felt something which, had he not been a gentleman and a wizard and therefore above such emotions, he might have identified as panic start tying knots in the pit of his stomach.

There were people everywhere. Most of them looked like they knew what they were doing. The others who didn’t look like they were doing looked, from his perspective at the moment as he tried to get his bearings, for the most part far more comfortable about not knowing what they were doing than Simon was. He felt sweat beginning to form on his forehead and didn’t think it had much to do with the weather, warm though that was. He wanted to magically adhere himself to the clothes of the wizard giving directions, the most helpful-looking figure he could see, but suspected that this would not, all evidence considered fairly, help him achieve the goal he’d been sent to Sonora to achieve. Instead, then, he tried to discreetly wipe his hands on his unfamiliar new green robes, prayed that there wasn’t dirt all over the back of them from riding in a wagon and that everyone else wasn’t going to laugh at him about it if there was, and went under the banner welcoming him and all the other first years to Orientation.

The clearing he found himself in was both quieter and less crowded, which was both a good and a bad thing. Simon felt a bit stupid and useless hanging around on the edge of a crowd of people – or just the edge of his younger sister and her favorite cousin; Sylvia and Nathaniel had a way of giving him the impression he was intruding even when he was the one who’d been in a room first – when he wasn’t sure where to go or how to invite himself into the conversation, but a smaller group meant he was much less likely to be completely unnoticed if he didn’t succeed in talking to someone.

At home it was easy. He mostly only saw his own tutors or his parents’ friends – Mother let him sit beside her and share tidbits off her plate at tea parties sometimes, and Father would, even more rarely, invite Simon into his office to show him off to the other men for a few minutes – and since they were all adults, they had the right to speak to him first, so he always knew what to talk about. It wasn’t too bad with just Sylvia, either – they had Exploding Snap in common, anyway, plus he always knew how to act because of their respective roles in the family. This, though, was like a little crowd of Nathaniels, or maybe even miniature versions of his uncle, Nate’s father; he felt sure he was going to feel clumsy and stupid and a bit inadequate around them.

Professor Xavier gave him a brief reprieve from that by explaining things about the school while Simon looked over his class schedule and nibbled on a cookie. The days looked really long to him, so he was glad to hear they could get snacks in the Cascade Hall between meals. As the professor finished, Simon folded up the papers and transferred them to his pocket, but before he could even begin to wonder if that was the right thing to do or not, another boy approached him.

”Hi, I’m Isaac.”

Simon thought for a moment and decided that this informal introduction – Father had said school was much less formal than society – meant that he probably did not need to bow to Isaac. Instead, he inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. “Hello,” he said. “I’m Simon – Mordue,” he added quickly, remembering that people weren’t automatically going to know his surname here. “Of Oregon.”

Isaac had not offered his surname or place of residence. Had he just forgotten, or – Simon realized the possibility with a start – was he one of the Muggleborns? Simon knew they, well, existed, and supposed he had seen a few when he’d been shopping without knowing it, but he had never spoken with one before – that he knew of. He thought his tutors had all been poorer full-blood wizards of one degree of another, though his mathematics tutor’s comment about not having any plans for Christmas last year were a little suspicious now that he thought about it. He had never thought of it before because Mr. Swift had been his favorite teacher ever; Simon was going to miss him.

“What do you think of the class schedule?” asked Simon, thoughts of Mr. Swift leading him back to the paper in his pocket as he looked for something neutral but not utterly boring to say. Should he have put the paper in his pocket?

  • I miss my friendsIsaac Song, Mon Sep 19 00:17
    Saying goodbye had been really hard before getting on the wagon to Sonora. Isaac almost wished he wasn't magical so he could go to the same middle school as the rest of his best friends. He knew he... more
    • I'm sorry. — Simon Mordue, Thu Sep 22 12:23
      • It makes room for new onesIsaac, Fri Sep 23 00:00
        At Simon's introduction, Isaac wondered if he'd messed it up in some way. Boys at his age weren't all about high society manners, but then again he'd never met any purebloods from that kind of world. ... more
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