gold lion | sammy

[ezio luca bruno osvaldo weekly]

outside, inside

this is a moon without a tide

December 2, 2028
SAMUEL LEONHARD VECTOR

For once, Ozzy hated himself for not paying attention during charms. Hadn’t they learned something to muffle noise lately? Sleeping with his head buried under pillows meant risking dying of suffocation at some point during the night, but then he wouldn’t be suffering anymore, would he? Not that his dormmates were doing anything interesting. In fact, Ozzy had been awoken from a dream, and after a moment of confusion, he realized he was not in the dream anymore, and the chainsaws he had been hearing were, in fact, the loud snores of a few of the other fifth years. Merlin—you’d think they were choking on air.

Of course, it was Buford and Baker. Two boys who made Ozzy look like the top of his class. Annoyed, he swung his legs over the edge and slipped his feet into his slippers. Hanging out in the common room was his only other option for now. A third would have been to see if Theo was awake and if they could devise some new way to mess with the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, but that meant making his way to the dungeons. And he was already cold and tired. Picking up his book from his side table, Ozzy made his way down the steps to the common room.

At first glance, he didn’t see anyone or hear anything. It seemed every other dorm was sound asleep and not suffering through the bass of the only two people on the planet who snored sitting up. At least he could finish more of this graphic novel near the fire and without the usual distractions of the common room. Rounding the corner to one of the oversized chairs, Ozzy felt his heart stop and then resume beating. The lanky figure of someone else was on the couch. ”Merlin’s—“ Ozzy closed his eyes and shook his head. ”What are you hiding there for?” Now that he was wide awake, the figure was easily recognizable as Sammy.

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[SAMUEL LEONHARD VECTOR]

Sammy was not one for traditional coursework. Especially when it came to any subject but transfiguration or charms. Currently, he was bowed over a particularly gruesome essay about venomous tentaculae, and Sammy simply had no idea how best to care for the devious plant so that it grew hearty seeds. Why would anyone want a plant that could bite off your limbs? Truly, it was beyond him. Scottie was as useless as he was, and Theo had been mysteriously absent all day. Sammy had even ventured towards the Ravenclaw common room to ask Idele for some pointers. But he hadn't had the foggiest idea how to solve the riddle posed at the door.

The common room had emptied around him, and Sammy was growing more and more groggy as the night went on. His mind had started to wander to more interesting subjects - namely how to demean big-head many-feet and the general student population. While his mind hovered around the idea of procuring a large order of Weasley's wildfire wizzbangs, he wanted something bigger. Better. More incendiary. Fireworks alone wouldn't do, as it had been done before.

At some point, Sammy must have drifted off, because he was jarred awake by someone swearing. Sammy jolted and slid off the sofa he'd laid splayed uncomfortably upon. Bollocks, his neck was sore. Groaning, Sammy straightened, taking up a more prone position on the floor. "Bugger," he muttered, tilting his head side to side to loosen up the crick in his neck. "I wasn't hiding," mumbled Sammy irritably, peering up at Ozzy. He'd recognised his dorm mate's form immediately. "I was resting. Clearly. I was comfortable," said Sammy. "What are you doing down here at this time anyways?" asked Sammy, rolling his shoulders and shifting so that he sat on the couch.

ezio luca bruno osvaldo weekly

[ezio luca bruno osvaldo weekly]

outside, inside

this is a moon without a tide

December 2, 2028
SAMUEL LEONHARD VECTOR

Ozzy was mildly annoyed that he wasn’t tired anymore, the adrenaline still coursing through his body. But that passed quickly. He’d never been the type to hold a grudge or say angry for very long. Maybe that was why he got along so well with his siblings in their strange blended family. Sammy didn’t appear awake either, as he was now on the floor. ”Waiting for the troll opera to end.” Their housemates' snores were well-known and possibly impervious to charms. Or maybe the Professors let them suffer on purpose. With a heavy and dramatic sigh, Ozzy dropped himself in one of the armchairs.

”I think the Professors let us suffer on purpose, maybe to give their own House teams an edge.” One couldn’t play as well without a good night’s rest, after all. ”What you working on?” He spotted the books and supplies around his friend. ”Sorry, I woke you up.” He added hastily. Sammy looked a bit groggy and worse for wear, so Ozzy felt a little bad.

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[SAMUEL LEONHARD VECTOR]

Sammy must have drifted off, because Ozzy’s jarring voice roused him from his stupor. He blinked blearily, trying to clear his head from the fog. He’d tumbled onto the floor and appraised Ozzy from that rather unflattering angle, his brows drawn together in bewilderment. He grunted a reply as he shifted so that he was sitting cross legged on the floor, too unbothered to settle himself on the sofa again. ”Merlin, again?” he muttered with a frown. ”Surely there’s a charm that can silence them. How are we supposed to get our beauty sleep?” he added with a wry grin. He was certain that Madame Macmillan made them suffer on purpose, since their many complaints about the troll opera had fallen on deaf ears. ”One day they will suffer for the agony they’ve put us through.”

Sighing, Sammy gave the roll of parchment a half hearted flourish. ”Herbology,” he replied dully. ”Nearly as bad as potions. Even if Astor’s not as bad as Many feet,” he lamented. Sammy didn’t comment on the Quidditch reference, as he wasn’t Scottie. Who was much more interested in the sport. Sammy simply didn’t understand the desire to get all muddy and sweaty whilst flying about on a broom and presumably becoming very sore between the legs. ”Oh, it’s no matter. Do you know anything about herbology?” he asked, a glimmer of hope sparkling in his eye. He stretched his long arms out before him, groaning as his shoulders popped into position. ”Ugh, remind me not to doze off on the soft furniture again.”

ezio luca bruno osvaldo weekly

[ezio luca bruno osvaldo weekly]

outside, inside

this is a moon without a tide

December 2, 2028
SAMUEL LEONHARD VECTOR

It was a well-known reference in their house and perhaps in other houses as well. Ozzy seriously doubted their dorms would receive any ahem visitors at any point with those sounds in the background. Talk about killing the mood. But that was only as far as the rumors he and Theo had heard were concerned. And it was like he was about to ask his sisters about those things. In times like these, Ozzy wouldn’t have minded an older brother to give him some advice. Most girls his age weren’t interested in the same things—mainly Quidditch. Unless you counted Tilly, but Tilly was…Tilly.

”Too bad we can’t port him to the Faculty Tower.” Ozzy continued to lament. Maybe that would force their Professors to take some action. ”Or the Hospital Wing—that can’t be normal.” Ozzy swore the boy was slowly choking to death sometimes. As Sammy seemed to find his bearings, the topic shifted to his work. Plopping into one of the large chairs, Ozzy made himself comfortable, almost forgetting the book he’d brought with him. For now, he placed it on the floor. ”Erm—“ He searched his brain for anything aside from the obvious—it dealt with plants and things. ”Sorry.”

Herbology reminded Ozzy much of his mother’s weird obsession with her vegan diet. ”I used to nap down here all the time.” Something about the excitement of school, Quidditch, and other random things left Ozzy napping on this couch many random hours of the day in his first few years. ”I think I’m too tall now—probably why you feel like you broke your neck.” Sammy, like his brother, was taller than Ozzy by a bit.

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