【 devon fondatore 】
—25 april, 2026— Solo —x
—25 april, 2026— Solo —x
Spring had done something to the Penwick student population, and Devon wasn't quite sure what to call it. As soon as the sun started going down after 6pm again, it was like everyone became possessed with positivity. Even students who had spent the winter skulking from classroom to classroom like half-drowned rats now seemed to be bouncing off the walls sometimes.
Which by itself wasn't too bad, honestly. But it had certainly turned the Dranaga Common Room into a bit of a hotspot of activity. Someone was laughing loudly by the staircase, someone else had brought a ball inside for reasons that escaped him, and there was a pair of boys in the corner trying to see who could lean furthest over the back of a chair before toppling onto the floor.
Devi watched all of this from the arm of a sofa, one leg hooked over the cushion, a small parcel balanced in his lap, waiting for a certain someone to come over and notice it.
“What's that?”
He looked up. A girl from his year whose name he absolutely knew and had simply chosen not to remember was peering at the parcel over the top of the sofa. Another boy had drifted over too, then another, like moths to a lamp. And then she walked over, curiosity on her face. Bingo.
“Dunno,” Devi said lightly, already beginning to unwrap it, his heartbeat a bit faster. “Could be dangerous.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “It’s a box.”
“No, really?”
He peeled back the paper. Beneath it sat a second, smaller box, neat and square and unmistakably Muggle. His grandmother’s handwriting scrawled across a piece of paper on top made something in his chest lift. Marian had been spoiling Devon a bit since he went off to Penwick, sending him sweets in the mail every month or so. This box was heavier than those had been, though.
“Oh, what is it?” the boy asked, leaning in too close.
Devi angled the box away from him on instinct. “Back up, would you?”
That, of course, only made them more interested.
He should have just left. Taken the thing to his room upstairs or out to the grounds or literally anywhere else. But there were eyes on him now, and he could feel that old stupid little spark catch hold in his ribs. The one that told him to commit.
So instead of leaving, Devi sat up straighter, put on the sort of careless smirk that usually worked better in his head than on his face, and cracked open the box like he was unveiling a priceless artifact.
Inside lay a silver clamshell console of some sort, along with a cartridge nestled in the cardboard. He picked it up, looking it over to try and identify it. A black "Nintendo" logo was on the front, and as he opened the device, he saw a name that rung a bell.
“Well?” said the girl.
Devi looked up at them and shrugged like he received impossibly cool parcels every day of the week. “It’s a Game Boy.”
“A what?”
“A Game Boy,” he repeated, with the patient air of someone dealing with people beneath him. “Muggle thing. You play games on it.”
The boy frowned. “It's tiny.”
Devi gave a short laugh. “Brilliant, thanks, I hadn’t noticed.”
He took it out of the box and turned it in his hands, pleased despite himself by the weight of it. It felt real. Good. Something familiar, even though it was decades older than both him and the games he usually played. Leaving his Switch at home was tough when he first left, and apparently Marian had been searching for something that would work ever since.
One of the boys reached for it.
Devi pulled it back. “Don’t.”
“Ow,” the other girl said dryly. “Touchy.”
“It’s called having manners.”
She huffed a laugh. “You?”
That got a few smiles from the others.
Devi took the game cartridge out of the box and clicked it into place, holding up the device. “Since none of you seem capable of appreciating greatness when it’s right in front of you, I suppose I’ll have to demonstrate.”
He stood on the sofa cushion as he spoke, because of course he did. The trouble was that sofa cushions, as it turned out, were not designed for dramatic flourishes. His foot slipped slightly under him, not enough to make him fall, but enough that his other arm windmilled out in a deeply undignified attempt to keep his balance.
Laughter broke out in the group surrounding him, which of course drew the attention of the rest of the common room, who also seemed to snicker at the display. She was trying to cover her giggling with her hand, but it didn't do much.
Heat rushed up Devi’s neck so fast it almost made him dizzy. He righted himself at once, climbing off the sofa as if he had intended to do that all along.
“Relax,” he said, giving the nearest boy a shove with his shoulder on the way past. “Wanted to see if you lot were paying attention.”
The other girl raised a brow. “Mhmm.”
Devi scoffed, shoved the rest of the packaging back into the box, and tucked it under his arm. “Actually, don’t care. You lot are boring me now.” He tried not to rush out of the common room, but wanted to get out of there. No one stopped him.
He made it to the corridor with his face still calm, then kept walking until the common room noise had dulled behind him and his ears stopped burning.
Stupid joke, a stupid sofa, and those idiots had laughed at anything. One of them had laughed last week because someone dropped a spoon. It shouldn't have even bothered him.
Devi tightened his grip on the box and kept moving, headed nowhere in particular, just somewhere else.
He found himself on the second floor, noticing that the light that came through the windows was brighter here. Devi slowed near one of the alcoves, eyeing the nearest suit of armor with narrowed suspicion. He wasn't entirely convinced that these never moved.
He wandered past Trophy Hall, glancing through the doorway at all the polished cups and plaques and framed glory. He kept going until the hall bent slightly and narrowed near a tall window, half-blocked by a shallow jut of stone and one particularly battered suit of armour.
That was more like it.
The window recess was not much, really. Just deep enough that someone walking by would have to actually look to notice a person sitting in it. The stone was cool, the light uneven. One of the lower panes had warped old glass that made the grounds outside look a bit watery. Better still, from the alcove, you could see the corridor without fully being seen yourself.
Devi stepped into it, then stepped back out, facing the dented suit of armor. “Hope you don't mind,” he muttered, just in case these suits did come alive at night. The armor, naturally, said nothing.
Devon dropped into the recess with his back against the wall. He set the box beside him, tucked one leg up, and pulled the Game Boy into his lap. The earlier embarrassment still sat under his skin, prickly and hot and deeply irritating, but it had started to loosen at the edges now. Here, at least, no one was looking over his shoulder.
Devi flipped the device over and slid off the back panel with his thumbnail. The little compartment for the battery sat empty. Marian had wrapped that separately in tissue, probably because the guy who sold it to her had explained the thing wouldn’t do much without one and insisted she take it. Which was pretty nice of the guy, even though the battery would be useless in a couple of seconds. Maybe he could cast some spells on it later to see if it would explode.
He took out his wand, pointing the tip at the empty space. “Voltero.” A faint spark leapt from his wand tip to the Game Boy. Devi smirked, he'd been wanting to use that spell.
He turned it on, the screen brightening as the console booted up, making what seemed to be a very loud noise that echoed through the corridor. Devon's stomach dropped. He looked up at once, though there was no one there. He wasn't sure why he was nervous to be seen playing a video game alone, but he was. After a moment, he relaxed back against the stone, turned the volume all the way down, and started the game.
A few minutes passed. Then more. Devi shifted further into the corner of the recess, getting comfortable without really meaning to. Every so often footsteps sounded somewhere beyond the bend in the corridor, and each time he instinctively tilted the screen down, hiding it from view. Not because he cared, obviously. Just because if anyone from his year saw him up here alone with his little Muggle toy, they would almost certainly ruin it.
The suit of armour stood beside the alcove with its dented helmet and crooked gauntlets, saying nothing. A proper gentleman.
Devi lost once, muttered something obscene under his breath, and restarted. The sunlight had shifted by the time he next looked up, leaving more of the recess in shadow. He could smell old stone, polish from the armor, that strange castle smell. He liked it here.
It wasn't that he needed a hiding spot. He didn’t. That was ridiculous. He was perfectly capable of spending time with other people when he felt like it.
Still.
His eyes moved over the corridor again, then back to the window, then to the little patch of stone floor between his shoes. It was a good spot. Smart spot.
Which meant it was his now.
Devi leaned over, tore a thin strip from the leftover wrapping paper still stuck in the box, and wedged it into a crack in the stone beside him. Just enough that he would know, so he wouldn't forget.
Which by itself wasn't too bad, honestly. But it had certainly turned the Dranaga Common Room into a bit of a hotspot of activity. Someone was laughing loudly by the staircase, someone else had brought a ball inside for reasons that escaped him, and there was a pair of boys in the corner trying to see who could lean furthest over the back of a chair before toppling onto the floor.
Devi watched all of this from the arm of a sofa, one leg hooked over the cushion, a small parcel balanced in his lap, waiting for a certain someone to come over and notice it.
“What's that?”
He looked up. A girl from his year whose name he absolutely knew and had simply chosen not to remember was peering at the parcel over the top of the sofa. Another boy had drifted over too, then another, like moths to a lamp. And then she walked over, curiosity on her face. Bingo.
“Dunno,” Devi said lightly, already beginning to unwrap it, his heartbeat a bit faster. “Could be dangerous.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “It’s a box.”
“No, really?”
He peeled back the paper. Beneath it sat a second, smaller box, neat and square and unmistakably Muggle. His grandmother’s handwriting scrawled across a piece of paper on top made something in his chest lift. Marian had been spoiling Devon a bit since he went off to Penwick, sending him sweets in the mail every month or so. This box was heavier than those had been, though.
“Oh, what is it?” the boy asked, leaning in too close.
Devi angled the box away from him on instinct. “Back up, would you?”
That, of course, only made them more interested.
He should have just left. Taken the thing to his room upstairs or out to the grounds or literally anywhere else. But there were eyes on him now, and he could feel that old stupid little spark catch hold in his ribs. The one that told him to commit.
So instead of leaving, Devi sat up straighter, put on the sort of careless smirk that usually worked better in his head than on his face, and cracked open the box like he was unveiling a priceless artifact.
Inside lay a silver clamshell console of some sort, along with a cartridge nestled in the cardboard. He picked it up, looking it over to try and identify it. A black "Nintendo" logo was on the front, and as he opened the device, he saw a name that rung a bell.
“Well?” said the girl.
Devi looked up at them and shrugged like he received impossibly cool parcels every day of the week. “It’s a Game Boy.”
“A what?”
“A Game Boy,” he repeated, with the patient air of someone dealing with people beneath him. “Muggle thing. You play games on it.”
The boy frowned. “It's tiny.”
Devi gave a short laugh. “Brilliant, thanks, I hadn’t noticed.”
He took it out of the box and turned it in his hands, pleased despite himself by the weight of it. It felt real. Good. Something familiar, even though it was decades older than both him and the games he usually played. Leaving his Switch at home was tough when he first left, and apparently Marian had been searching for something that would work ever since.
One of the boys reached for it.
Devi pulled it back. “Don’t.”
“Ow,” the other girl said dryly. “Touchy.”
“It’s called having manners.”
She huffed a laugh. “You?”
That got a few smiles from the others.
Devi took the game cartridge out of the box and clicked it into place, holding up the device. “Since none of you seem capable of appreciating greatness when it’s right in front of you, I suppose I’ll have to demonstrate.”
He stood on the sofa cushion as he spoke, because of course he did. The trouble was that sofa cushions, as it turned out, were not designed for dramatic flourishes. His foot slipped slightly under him, not enough to make him fall, but enough that his other arm windmilled out in a deeply undignified attempt to keep his balance.
Laughter broke out in the group surrounding him, which of course drew the attention of the rest of the common room, who also seemed to snicker at the display. She was trying to cover her giggling with her hand, but it didn't do much.
Heat rushed up Devi’s neck so fast it almost made him dizzy. He righted himself at once, climbing off the sofa as if he had intended to do that all along.
“Relax,” he said, giving the nearest boy a shove with his shoulder on the way past. “Wanted to see if you lot were paying attention.”
The other girl raised a brow. “Mhmm.”
Devi scoffed, shoved the rest of the packaging back into the box, and tucked it under his arm. “Actually, don’t care. You lot are boring me now.” He tried not to rush out of the common room, but wanted to get out of there. No one stopped him.
He made it to the corridor with his face still calm, then kept walking until the common room noise had dulled behind him and his ears stopped burning.
Stupid joke, a stupid sofa, and those idiots had laughed at anything. One of them had laughed last week because someone dropped a spoon. It shouldn't have even bothered him.
Devi tightened his grip on the box and kept moving, headed nowhere in particular, just somewhere else.
He found himself on the second floor, noticing that the light that came through the windows was brighter here. Devi slowed near one of the alcoves, eyeing the nearest suit of armor with narrowed suspicion. He wasn't entirely convinced that these never moved.
He wandered past Trophy Hall, glancing through the doorway at all the polished cups and plaques and framed glory. He kept going until the hall bent slightly and narrowed near a tall window, half-blocked by a shallow jut of stone and one particularly battered suit of armour.
That was more like it.
The window recess was not much, really. Just deep enough that someone walking by would have to actually look to notice a person sitting in it. The stone was cool, the light uneven. One of the lower panes had warped old glass that made the grounds outside look a bit watery. Better still, from the alcove, you could see the corridor without fully being seen yourself.
Devi stepped into it, then stepped back out, facing the dented suit of armor. “Hope you don't mind,” he muttered, just in case these suits did come alive at night. The armor, naturally, said nothing.
Devon dropped into the recess with his back against the wall. He set the box beside him, tucked one leg up, and pulled the Game Boy into his lap. The earlier embarrassment still sat under his skin, prickly and hot and deeply irritating, but it had started to loosen at the edges now. Here, at least, no one was looking over his shoulder.
Devi flipped the device over and slid off the back panel with his thumbnail. The little compartment for the battery sat empty. Marian had wrapped that separately in tissue, probably because the guy who sold it to her had explained the thing wouldn’t do much without one and insisted she take it. Which was pretty nice of the guy, even though the battery would be useless in a couple of seconds. Maybe he could cast some spells on it later to see if it would explode.
He took out his wand, pointing the tip at the empty space. “Voltero.” A faint spark leapt from his wand tip to the Game Boy. Devi smirked, he'd been wanting to use that spell.
He turned it on, the screen brightening as the console booted up, making what seemed to be a very loud noise that echoed through the corridor. Devon's stomach dropped. He looked up at once, though there was no one there. He wasn't sure why he was nervous to be seen playing a video game alone, but he was. After a moment, he relaxed back against the stone, turned the volume all the way down, and started the game.
A few minutes passed. Then more. Devi shifted further into the corner of the recess, getting comfortable without really meaning to. Every so often footsteps sounded somewhere beyond the bend in the corridor, and each time he instinctively tilted the screen down, hiding it from view. Not because he cared, obviously. Just because if anyone from his year saw him up here alone with his little Muggle toy, they would almost certainly ruin it.
The suit of armour stood beside the alcove with its dented helmet and crooked gauntlets, saying nothing. A proper gentleman.
Devi lost once, muttered something obscene under his breath, and restarted. The sunlight had shifted by the time he next looked up, leaving more of the recess in shadow. He could smell old stone, polish from the armor, that strange castle smell. He liked it here.
It wasn't that he needed a hiding spot. He didn’t. That was ridiculous. He was perfectly capable of spending time with other people when he felt like it.
Still.
His eyes moved over the corridor again, then back to the window, then to the little patch of stone floor between his shoes. It was a good spot. Smart spot.
Which meant it was his now.
Devi leaned over, tore a thin strip from the leftover wrapping paper still stuck in the box, and wedged it into a crack in the stone beside him. Just enough that he would know, so he wouldn't forget.