𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃. harry potter

𝐯𝐢𝐢. - caught by the prefect

07 | CAUGHT BY THE PREFECT

Lucian hummed softly, tracing a finger on the book's spine. He was in his dorm, quietly resting whilst he hoped for the safety of his best friend who would surely be causing yet another explosion that would either get him in detention or suspend him from the labs. (he silently prayed that it was a small one.)

He took in a deep breath, slowly opening the book he would be sent to Harry. He smiled a sad and depressed smile.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐝

A children's it may have been, but it had a significance to him. Tiredly, he set the book aside and lay back on the comfortable chair. The dorm rooms of Durmstrang had been separated by years.

Durmstrang was around 6 stories tall, and a 7 if you counted the basement. The student tower was where the dormitories were all located. There were two student towers, which all of the common rooms were located on the bottom floor. Each year has a floor to themselves; first to fourth years were in the tower to the east while the tower of the fifth to seventh years were on the west side of the castle. The 'senior' students tower was considerably more spacious as all seventh years did not share rooms with others.

For the first six years of attending Durmstrang, you are assigned a roommate, or in some cases get to pick your roommates if you had amazing negotiation skills.

Lucian had detested his first three years, forced to put up with numerous pre-teens going through the first stages of puberty. Then there was his fourth to the sixth year where he had to be on the same floor with hormonal teenagers.

It had been a nightmare, and for six years he had Rigel and Klaus Reinhart as a roommate. But now in his last year, he shared a room with no one.

'The deathly hallows. The three brothers... Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus. The wand, the stone, and the ring.' he thought, and a bitter feeling grew in him as he was reminded of his past life.

Now the descendant of Ignotus Peverell, his last life he was descended from Antioch. Even baring the Peverell name that his mother inherited.

Slowly opening his eyes, he felt a different yet familiar magic swirl in the air. He took in a deep breath, intoxicated by the magic and he could only sigh ever so tiredly at the presence that loomed over him.

Eyes closed once more, he didn't dare open it.

"Death..." He whispered as the word―name roll of his tongue like it always did.

He heard a cold and familiar chuckle, "Hello Lucian, or would you prefer me to call you―" the deity was cut off as Lucian raised a hand to stop him from speaking.

"Don't." He snapped, sounding pained as he spoke. "Lucian is fine... It's the name Matushka gave me..." He whispered, sighing as he finally gave in and opened his eyes to the large dementor floating over him. He hated this form of death.

"Hm? Why is that? Lady Peverell is still your mother, just as much as Lady Voronin." Death said before mist covered him.

"The name mein Mutter gave me... That man has died." He grits out, eye twitching as Death finished adjusting his appearance.

Now stood a man with wavy black hair and the same abyss-like eyes that stared fondly at him. A pale complexion, a handsome and mature face, and a perfect build. It wasn't similar to anyone from his past life, aside from the hair color, but the intent on the appearance always irked Lucian.