R.I.P. (STORIES)

the seventh year (5sos + hogwarts)

"Welcome to Hogwarts, dear seventh-year students, and may this year be the best you've ever had."

Or in which an unlikely quatuor of young wizards try to understand the events happening under their noses before the darkness rises again.

0 – The End of Summer

In the darkest of the nights was walking under the pouring rain a young man hiding under a weird-looking brown robe. His breathing was heavy and fast, as if he had just been running like a mad man. He was constantly looking over his shoulder in fear of being followed and walked faster and faster with each step he was taking. He hoped his hood was completely covering his face, for it could be his only hope of making it to his house safely. Soaked to the bone and shivering, the young man started running as he turned around the corner of the poorly lightened alley to see his hideout, the house he shared with a lonely but courageous house elf.

Waving a hand in front of the fence, he passed through the cold metal like it was made of air and released the breath he was containing. He had made it to the protection dome his parents had put up for his protection before anything had happened, and that was a rare occurrence. He wasn't one to leave his house often, and when he did, he would be closely chased or attacked. He still didn't fully understand why those attacks were happening, but he figured out it had something to do with his parents' murder.

He unlocked the front door of the modest house and, making sure there were no neighbors watching, entered the house quickly. He leaned his back on the door, still breathing heavily from the chase he had been the prey to, and nervously jumped as he heard a loud voice coming from the kitchen.

"Master! You're back!" The family elf house called. As the creature said those words, the green-eyed boy opened the lights of the corridor to see two protuberant blue eyes looking at him in admiration.

"Geez, Wem, don't scare me like that again," Michael groaned, still shook by the recent events of the night. He really liked Wemby's company, but sometimes he couldn't bear his presence. At least, he recognized the hard work the elf was making to take care about someone like him, carrying a dangerous past filled with secrets.

***

It was another rather awkward family dinner in the Hemmings' household, as always every week before September first. Normally, it was only because the youngest son would practically disappear for a year into a world his parents and whole family knew little to nothing about, but this year, the atmosphere was more tensed than any other last dinners before. There was something different about this year, Luke knew that, and unfortunately, his parents too.

"Luke," his mother coughed, "we'd like to talk about...something," she added vaguely.

"What is it this time, you don't like when I use spells at home? You already lectured me about that," he retorted before his parents could explain.

"No, Luke," his father groaned, "this time it's not about the spells."

"Then what? Is it about magic or a Muggle-related subject?" Luke asked as he cut the juicy piece of meat his mother had prepared them.

"It is about magic, Luke, and how many times will we have to repeat not to use this word!" His father shouted, getting angrier by the second without Luke's comprehension of why.

"Honey, it's just that we don't want you to return to Hogwarts this year. Don't take it personal, we're proud of you and everything, and you could do your last year the next one, but not this year, please."

Luke was bewildered by his mother's statement. Hogwarts wasn't just some kind of school for people with different capacities, it was a whole world and a second house to Luke and possibly every wizard who had the opportunity to study there. Sadly, his parents would never know what Hogwarts was like, felt like, and their incomprehension angered him.