[time] of our [lives] -open-

[zachariah]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i287.photobucket.com/albums/ll153/tokyotabby/Grey.jpg); border: solid #ffffff 4px; width: 250px; height: 650px;] you know how the time flies the dust covering the various golden and bronze trophies and plaques that lines the walls of the trophy room were testament to the fact that this little area, this secret quiet paradise, was one of the lesser visited areas of the school. it was understandable. teenagers lived for the moment, not to dwell on the achievements and accomplishments of those long dead in the past. it was just the teenage way. you were always looking towards the future, right? zac could understand that. hell, he was that much of the time. live life in the moment, laugh, joke around, spend minimal time on past mistakes... but still, this was cool. the quiet dusty room had a simple elegance to it, a feeling that nowhere else in the magical school possessed. the greatest students and professors in hogwart's past were celebrated here, their names forever engraved into 'stone', or metal was it was, for future generations to see. true, ninety precent of the names upon various awards meant absolutely nothing to the muggleborn wizard, but it was what they stood for that was just... well, plain awesome. the people celebrated here were the best of the best. it was a personal dream of zac's to someday have his name up on the wall with everyone else's. quidditch captain of a winning team, perhaps? he couldn't see himself somehow being a hero to allow himself some special award... a quidditch one would be perfectly fine. he had one, maybe two years to hopefully accomplish it… it’d be great, truly. while other students in his year and house might be cramming for the next morning's exam at this time, nine pm in the evening in the late days of september, zac was too restless to sit and study. the quiz in transfiguration the next day promised to be fairly simple so, as he often did, he'd decided to talk a walk through hogwarts. it was kind of cool at this time of day, the sun was generally gone and with it all natural lighting, so the castle was illuminated by torches quietly flickering in their holders on the walls. castles had fascinated zac since he was little, living in one was an accomplished dream, of course he would take advantage of it to enjoy it. generally he would go to the courtyard or a tower to enjoy the view and fresh air, but today his feet had brought him on his path to the trophy room, where he now stood, looking at the section of the room that held the names of students who had accomplished amazing feats over the years. maybe someday his name could be added. someday... only yesterday was the time of our lives WORDS: 710 TAGGED: anyone OUTFIT: too lazy MUSIC: none NOTES none template made by mikey is a lady killer ?! @ caution 2.0, steal it and she'll send zombie pandas to eat your brains!

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[dareious]

History marked him and his kind down as little more than instinctive, mindless beasts. Dareious knew how the accounts stood, he knew of the countless slaughters and mindless bloodshed from both sides, though humans were always the ones painted in a sympathetic light. Yes, primal urges were most likely stronger and self control was not something werewolves were noted for, but humans could be just as bad. Still, he was part of a new generation; one that wasn’t as bound by prejudices as past generations. It was a chance to move forward and he intended to use it. What was in his blood…he resented it, but it was still part of him.

You would think looking at the past would bring him down, but if anything it gave him hope. He could prove it was okay; he could prove they weren’t all monsters. Maybe he couldn’t do it on his own, but he knew there were others who were more than ready for that ever growing shift to a more positive future. Wizards and witches from generations past were remembered in one room for petty things like captaining a quidditch team…he had two years to blow all that out of the water. He had two years to start a revolution and see the start of the true abolition of old thoughts and systems that excluded werewolves from mainstream culture. Shacklebolt had started it, but attitudes were hard to change, especially when what they were taught was still so biased. Werewolves were still monsters in textbooks, but anyone who knew how they worked on the inside could and would tell you different; loyalty, honour and order were highly prized. It was survival of the fittest, yes; but family, blood, the pack…that dynamic was enviable if people knew about it. All they were taught was bloodlust and that needed to change.

Of course, it would actually help if he was a full werewolf. He needed to work on that…but he knew Seyton would never go for it and he wasn’t entirely sure when he would next see Fenrir. He very much doubted Jasper would be willing…but they were blood. To take that chance away from them didn’t make sense. To have a stranger change him…the thought alone turned his stomach.

He had all night to study; he knew full well he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. It was too close to a full moon. He wasn’t sure if that was tonight or still to come, all he knew was it was hell at the moment. He’d been almost unable to stay fully dressed all through the day and he was on edge; snapping at anyone who so much as breathed out of place. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin and he could feel it pacing round and round in his mind. The night of the full moon was the only night he’d agreed to take anything to keep him asleep and to stop him sleepwalking. He didn’t know what he’d do if it wasn’t that way; in the day, he found himself searching out other wolves, desperate for something familiar, something comforting. He needed to be around others who knew what this…prickling was like. That heat in the blood that never really went away. He could study instead of sleeping and hope he could concentrate tomorrow.

He didn’t know where his feet were taking him; just that they were leading him in to a place that wasn’t overly soaked in natural light. He didn’t really stop until he spotted a familiar figure ahead. He recognised them from years past. His name was Zac and he was in hufflepuff, and they were in the same year. Pausing, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to turn back or keep going. Either way, he found himself surrounded by history once again. Damn history, like it actually taught anything useful.