Post by Benny-poo Finnigan on Jun 13, 2007 21:00:01 GMT -5
Frankly, Benvolio Valentin Finnigan was bored. Sure, there was a crazy wizard running the school, but that really didn't affect him now, at this very moment. It was currently dinner time, so he was avoiding the Great Hall, and since it was dinner time, it was probably dark outside, or getting there. And every person with even the tiniest bit of smarts knew not to go out after dark.
Ben, then, in an effort to amuse himself, had gone wandering around the school, where he stumbled upon the Room of Requirements. This room was one of the best of the school, in his opinion, and when inspiration hit Ben to use the room to unbored him, it had decided not to work. The 12-year-old guessed that it had something to do with the fact that the room must need to know an idea what would satisfy the boy's attention, but since even he didn't know what would, he took a seat under the big picture, his back against the wall, his legs extended in front of him.
Sure, he could think of a few things that would amuse him, but they all involved his friends. Or were his friends. All of whom, he knew, were in the Great Hall, eating dinner. He could go there and talk to them, but that would arouse the question, why wasn't this already too-thin boy eating? which is something Ben was trying to avoid. This way he could pretend he was working on homework, which was a complete and total lie: Ben did not do homework, but most people would accept the excuse.
Sighing softly, content to just sit there for a moment, waiting, hoping, for something to happen, he hugged his knees to his chest, his ice-grey eyes closed.
Ben, then, in an effort to amuse himself, had gone wandering around the school, where he stumbled upon the Room of Requirements. This room was one of the best of the school, in his opinion, and when inspiration hit Ben to use the room to unbored him, it had decided not to work. The 12-year-old guessed that it had something to do with the fact that the room must need to know an idea what would satisfy the boy's attention, but since even he didn't know what would, he took a seat under the big picture, his back against the wall, his legs extended in front of him.
Sure, he could think of a few things that would amuse him, but they all involved his friends. Or were his friends. All of whom, he knew, were in the Great Hall, eating dinner. He could go there and talk to them, but that would arouse the question, why wasn't this already too-thin boy eating? which is something Ben was trying to avoid. This way he could pretend he was working on homework, which was a complete and total lie: Ben did not do homework, but most people would accept the excuse.
Sighing softly, content to just sit there for a moment, waiting, hoping, for something to happen, he hugged his knees to his chest, his ice-grey eyes closed.
