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GroundsHave a case of cabin castle fever? Best to take a break from all the stone corridors and go hang out by the lake, or explore the expansive school grounds. Don't forgive to send your regards to Bartholomew Henry!
The large freshwater lake of Hogwarts is located just south of the castle. About half a mile wide in diameter, the lake dominates much of the school's landscape, a steely and ominous mass of icy water in the winter, yet an inviting and refreshing sight once the weather starts to heat up. On one of its banks, a towering beech tree stands sentinel, and is a popular location to meet and relax. Castle-side of the lake stands the boathouse.
You may swim in the lake, but be careful, and also mindful of the creatures that reside here. Merpeople, grindylows, and the Great Squid, to name but a few, call these watery depths their home. You would do well to leave them in peace. If they feel like it, they'll come to you; the Giant Squid, who goes by the name of Bartholomew Henry, has been known to bask in the shallows on sunny days.
Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Moy Pomidor | Seneca's Beard | That Is So Fetch!
Rajan had been studying. Technically, he was still studying.
The sixth year sat positioned well within the shade of one of the trees bordering the Black Lake to avoid any unnecessary heliosis, his back resting against its trunk and an Ancient Runes textbook spread open across his lap. Several sheets of parchment surrounded him, held down at their corners by whatever objects he'd had available: his ink bottle, another textbook, his wand, and a few particularly cooperative rocks.
At some point, actual studying had become staring across the lake while pretending he was thinking very deeply about runic translations. Every few minutes, Rajan's gaze would return to the same paragraph, make it approximately three sentences farther, and then drift toward something else. A ripple across the water. A bird overhead. A group of younger students making enough noise in the distance.
With a resigned sigh, Rajan eventually shut the textbook. Studying outside had proven to be too distracting.
He began collecting the parchment scattered around him, carefully stacking each sheet according to the page numbers he'd written in their upper corners. Suddenly, a breeze rustled the branches overhead.
"No, no, no!"
He saw the corner of a loose sheet beside his knee lift. Rajan lunged forward, fingertips narrowly missing the parchment as the wind swept it away. It flipped once in the air, hovered just long enough to give him the false impression that it might come back down, and then sailed several feet away.
Rajan scrambled to his feet, sending the textbook tumbling from his lap in the process. He took off after the escaping page without thinking of using his wand to retrieve it.
doesn't proofread tweets | #wrongaboutcereal | #siriusly? | emo to the extremo
SPOILER!!: umm, ur coming home w me
Quote:
Originally Posted by Zoe
Rajan had been studying. Technically, he was still studying.
The sixth year sat positioned well within the shade of one of the trees bordering the Black Lake to avoid any unnecessary heliosis, his back resting against its trunk and an Ancient Runes textbook spread open across his lap. Several sheets of parchment surrounded him, held down at their corners by whatever objects he'd had available: his ink bottle, another textbook, his wand, and a few particularly cooperative rocks.
At some point, actual studying had become staring across the lake while pretending he was thinking very deeply about runic translations. Every few minutes, Rajan's gaze would return to the same paragraph, make it approximately three sentences farther, and then drift toward something else. A ripple across the water. A bird overhead. A group of younger students making enough noise in the distance.
With a resigned sigh, Rajan eventually shut the textbook. Studying outside had proven to be too distracting.
He began collecting the parchment scattered around him, carefully stacking each sheet according to the page numbers he'd written in their upper corners. Suddenly, a breeze rustled the branches overhead.
"No, no, no!"
He saw the corner of a loose sheet beside his knee lift. Rajan lunged forward, fingertips narrowly missing the parchment as the wind swept it away. It flipped once in the air, hovered just long enough to give him the false impression that it might come back down, and then sailed several feet away.
Rajan scrambled to his feet, sending the textbook tumbling from his lap in the process. He took off after the escaping page without thinking of using his wand to retrieve it.
"Come back here!"
It was a genuine wonder how the students at this school managed to take care of themselves - or rather, didn't. The dinners were never-ending and lacking in any basic nutritional balance, and there was a distinct, appalling lack of a proper gymnasium. Sure, everyone was obsessed with Quidditch, but flying on a broomstick is a lazy sport. Hardly any actual cardio involved.
Asena, however, refused to sit around and become complacent, which meant committing to routine daily runs around the grounds. She’d even started swimming in the lake in the mornings. Hogwarts would not best her. Absolutely not. Fortunately it was a beautiful day for a run.
Asena was mid-stride, dark hair pulled back, actively judging the damp air quality, when something came hurtling through the breeze.
Fwap.
It hit her straight in the chest - or rather, it would have hit her directly in the face if her fast reflexes hadn't kicked in first. With a startled gasp, Asena’s hand shot out, her fingers snatching the flying parchment right out of mid-air. The paper crumpled in her tight, defensive grip.
"What in the—" Disdain on full display, btw. Who loses their parchment outside?
She looked up, fully prepared to deliver a scathing critique, only to catch sight of a boy scrambling wildly across the grass like a lunatic. The sight of him lunging frantically after a runaway breeze was... well, embarrassing for him, lbr.
And because he was making the effort to chase it down, Asena stood still, feet firmly planted, crumpled parchment held between two manicured fingers like it was infected, and waited expectantly. So not judging him.
The Great Lake 
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