The Creator

A lone figure stood in the deserted halls of Hogwarts. Most students were – no doubt – stuffing their mouths, full with all kinds of greasy and unhealthy food the House Elfs prepared.

The teen stood, leaned, against a wall that – surprisingly enough – didn't have any paintings, which was a minority in Hogwarts, or in any Wizarding House.

The figure had little white devices in their ears, devices that shouldn't yet exist in their time.

Pearl like fingers tapped against another white surface. Hand brushing some dirt away.

The figure slid down the bare wall onto the cold ground, shifting into a more comfortable position, before resuming their tapping.

No human being would give off an effect like that, yet here they were, their crystal like hair reflecting the moonlight and shining stars, giving off a marvelous look.

The figure muttered something under their breath,

"No — that's not right"

"That shouldn't be there"

They looked at their lap, a little notebook with a drawing of a slender figure with long dark magenta hair, standing in the middle of a clearing, looking into the sky.

The Ruby – it's what the creator called it –was more on the feminine side, but still held the grace that no human has. The Ruby was very much like the Creator themself. Both had the crystal like features, pure white skin, and lithe figures that couldn't be described as either feminine or masculine.

The difference was in their eyes.

The Ruby had lively, Playful and maybe even sassy eyes, with a certain glint that would make every person think 'trouble is coming'.

While the Creator had eyes that don't belong on its young looking body. They speak of experience, sadness, grief, forgiveness, losing.

They're the eyes of someone that has seen death, and forgiven it. Even after it's cruel actions.

The Creator pushed back their pencil, drawing some lines on the Rubies neck.

"That's right…"

The Ruby now looked almost oblivious. It didn't see the arrows. It didn't see dark clouds. It didn't see their neck shattering like glass.

It just embraced death with peaceful oblivion.

The figure dropped the pencil, their eyes snapping shut.

"No No No No No No No NONONONONO"

The chant of silent screams continued, the Creator's breath came faster and faster, becoming shorter each time. They gripped at their crystal hair, gripping it tightly and pulling harder and harder every time.

The notebook dropped from their lap, but they didn't notice it, too occupied with concentration on breathing.

The notebook opened on a page with a lot other crystal like figures, all of them shattered beyond repair, and in the middle sat one, tiny figure. Yellow hair, yellow eyes, pearl skin and white cloth covering their shivering form.

It was the Creator.

They finally regained their calm,and slumped back against the wall, a broken chuckle coming from their mouth.

They stayed there for a couple of minutes, just, breathing.

Standing back up, they picked up the notebook, finally noticing it, but not looking at the page.

With the last few seconds before curfew started, they ran off in a lightning fast sprint, their footsteps echoing in the halls.

~ ~ ~

Thanks for reading "The Creator",

This is just an idea that popped up in my mind before going to sleep, well, I'm still not going to sleep.

Please let me know what you think, and maybe if enough people want it I'll make a second part! Maybe even some plot nihehee~

Anyway, hmm question of the day, what house do you think the creator is in, and why?

—Gryffindor

—HufflePuff

—Slytherin

—RavenClaw