Call It Home - Prinxiety [COMPLETED]

Chapter Sixteen: Northern Downpour

Virgil sighed as he walked through the halls of the clock tower. He was heading to his favorite spot in the entire school, a little hiding spot of his that he loved to go to when he needed some peace and quiet. 

The sounds of his shoes against the old cobblestone stairs were muffled by the sounds of heavy rain outside. Winter had come and gone. Spring now brought rain and warm breezes.

A smile spread across his lips as he continued to ascend. He passed small windows where he could see the raindrops hitting the glass and running down. Familiarity washed over him at the sight and sound of it. Rain was always something that calmed him down. He was certain if he asked Logan, the Ravenclaw would be able to explain why it did so using some kind of scientific research, but he didn't care about the logistics. To him, it was just beautiful.

Virgil reached the top of the staircase, which lead to a large, open room at the top of the clock tower. It was dim, the only real source of light coming from outside. The mechanisms of the clock could be seen overhead, and though they were massive and mechanical, they made little-to-no noise. He figured it was magic. 

In front of him was the face of the clock. The large circular glass pane with the metal numbers and clock hands moving around was astonishing up close. There was a small ledge underneath it where Virgil liked to sit and read or draw. 

However, it was different today. Someone was sitting on the ledge already and scribbling away into a notebook. The house-less student froze in surprise and a tiny gasp escaped his lips.

The other student looked up and met his eyes. "Oh hey Virge."

"S-Sorry, I didn't know anyone else was here," Virgil rushed out, feeling his cheeks flush as Roman smiled at him warmly. "I can go if you want some solitude-"

"There's no need to run off, I'm just writing a bit," the Gryffindor said. He nodded to the empty space on the ledge. "There's plenty of room if you'd like to join me."

Virgil swallowed and considered it; Patton and Emile had advised him to pursue a relationship with Roman, but he wasn't sure how to go about doing it. He wanted to spend more time getting to know him before asking him on a date, if he got the courage to even do so. Looking at the smile on the other boy's face, he nodded and walked over to join him.

There was a period of silence between, filled only by the sound of the rain on the glass. Finally, the Gryffindor broke it. "So, you come here a lot then?" Roman asked him

"Well, yeah, it's got a really nice view," Virgil admitted, gesturing outside. "It's quiet and usually, there's no one else here. I thought I was clever for finding somewhere in the school that I could be alone in, but apparently it's more popular than I thought."

"Oh don't be ridiculous, I'm an exception too," the other boy laughed.

His phrasing peaked Virgil's interest. He looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean by that? You're an 'exception'? To what?"

"Well, I'm a Gryffindor that falls into basically all the stereotypes of being one," Roman explained. He shrugged and looked at him. "But... I've got more layers to me than just being a jock who's head's full of sports and women... for a start, the latter isn't there at all."

The darkly dressed boy chuckled a little at the comment. "Same here, obviously."

"Yeah, but I'm more creative than people would assume," he continued. "I like to write, draw, paint, compose music... I'm passionate about art just as I am about sports. There's not much I can do here to show it, but I practice it on my own when I can. Now that Quidditch is in the off season, I have less practices to go to, so I have more free time. This place kind of... beckons misfits to it, I think."

"I draw too," Virgil said quietly, holding up his sketchbook. "It's less about creative expression and more about anxiety relief for me though... it's therapeutic for me."

Roman nodded in understanding and then went back to writing in the notebook he was currently working in. He'd said he was writing though the house-less student didn't know what. He felt the urge to ask, but a comfortable quiet filled with the sound of the rain had settled over them, and he didn't want to ruin it. He opened his sketchbook and began sketching.

After a few moments, they seemed unaware that the other was there. They knew that they were, but it didn't affect them. Roman would mumble under his breath about a plot hole in his story, and Virgil would shake his head at a wrong line. They were comfortable existing near each other.

"Hey Virgil," the Gryffindor suddenly said, pulling the other boy from his thoughts. "You're humming that song again."

He blinked; he wasn't aware he'd been humming at all. His cheeks flushed with warmth and he ducked his head. His hair fell further over his eyes and allowed him to hide his face a little as he tried to shrink in on himself. "Sorry, I'll stop."

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that, I don't mind," Roman said. "I'm actually curious... we mostly listen to classical music in my house and obviously Hogwarts isn't the place to discover bands and artists of the muggle world. I've heard some examples of muggle music, but I've never heard whatever song that is. What is it?"

Virgil swallowed and relaxed slightly. "It's a song called Northern Downpour," he replied. "It's by a muggle band called Panic! At The Disco... it's a really beautiful song and even though it's a bit sad, it's calming."

"Ah, I see, the rain must remind you of it too," the Gryffindor pointed out. "Plus we're much farther north than usual, so it is, in fact, a northern downpour."

The house-less student smiled a little. "Yeah, it is."

Roman paused and looked at him with a soft expression. "Would you mind singing the song for me? I'd love to hear what it sounds like."

Virgil's heart rate spiked but something about the rain, the moment, and the way the other boy was looking at him made him agree. He took a shuddering breath and sang softly. "If all our life is but a dream, fantastic posing greed then we should feed our jewelry to the sea; for diamonds do appear to be, just like broken glass to me..."

The Gryffindor stopped writing and focused solely on the anxious boy in front of him. He listened in awe as his soft, smooth voice sang about the moon, sugarcane, and his one and lonely. He was enchanted. 

"Through playful lips made of yarn, that fragile Capricorn unraveled words like moths upon old scarves..." Virgil's voice changed a bit. His eyes closed tightly and he appeared to get a bit emotional as he sang the next line. "I know the world's a broken bone, but melt your headaches, call it home..."

Roman felt the lyric tug at his heart even without the full understanding of its meaning. He could tell the song meant a lot to Virgil, so once he was finished singing, he smiled warmly and didn't hide the shininess of his own eyes. "That was really beautiful, Virgil, I can see why you like it."

"I just hits close to home... when my mother died... I felt so broken and alone, I-" 

His voice broke and he sniffled a bit, feeling his throat close up. A warm hand took a hold of his own. Roman's fingers laced with his and he met the Gryffindor's eyes. "The world's a broken bone, a mess, and there's so much bad in it," he murmured. "But it is what it is, it's where we live, and we find a place that we can call home."

Virgil had tears rolling down his cheeks now. He nodded, feeling understood for the first time in years. The other boy pulled him into a tight hug and they just sat together listening to the rain for a while.