Gallery of Cards

Shibusawa looked up to the sky and noticed the sky was a weird color. 

The sky is blue, obviously, but today, it looked more cloudy. This reminded him of a misty veil covering the altar, whether purple, blue, or even white, to signal an occasion in which the church participates. 

What event does the whole religion is currently celebrating or mourning, 

Shibusawa thinks back to his time at the orphanage. He thinks about how dearly special Atsushi is, oh, the every-so-so-so poor boy. He could twirl his fingers and get lost with Atsushi’s soft hair. How pale, how skinny, how fragile. 

How his skin bleeds this sweet crimson red. How his skin heals in a matter of seconds. 

Shibusawa has never seen the boy have a scar. He has seen what the headmaster has done to him, yet the boy doesn’t have a mark on him. 

Perhaps he is the mark of innocence. A sweet taste of divinity, childhood. The mark of being wronged by the world yet remaining as innocent as a white flower. So different from what the Demon of the orphanage is. The demon is so…. 

Revolting, his hair is black and soft. It is a tempting touch, yet the only thing those filthy fingers seem to kill everything is those slender, bony fingers. Wretched sin seems to drag everyone around him to darkness. Those red eyes glow and trap the simple white hair boy with black strands in him. To worship him. When Atsushi should be worshipping him, he wants those lovely claws to dig into his neck, to make him bleed. To save him from this world one day. 

So many things become beautiful if youlook. Yes, you. The person reading this. 

Youhave to agree that Atsushi is simply an innocent soul, such a soul that should be paired up with a dragon. As yousee, I am an animagus. Not just ‘ani’ animagus. Heh…

That was funny. 

I am a funny person, the funniest of kind. Youshould all be like, ‘hahahahahaha’ 

Repeat after me. 

Ha ha ha. 

No, I'm not insane, like what the shrink said at the academy. That would simply be ridiculous. How else would I have been able to make the sweet Atsushi cry out in pain and cry? It was simply ‘electric.’ 

Hahaha. 

Getting back to the topic of being an animagus I am simply the only and one dragon. Turning into a huge sea-like serpent in the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic pool. 

I simply had to do some paperwork and swear I wouldn’t turn into one. However, I broke the rules several times and was forced to stay on campus because I was deemed a ‘danger.’ 

Hahaha 

So funny, me a danger? Only because I tried to get older kids to submit to spells and transform into a dragon just to scare them cost me my ticket to go back home and observe Atsushi. Oh, my sweet Atushi is getting tormented by Fyodor the Demon. Getting persuaded into the dark side… getting tainted…. Oh, sweet Atsushi, don’t worry. Don’t worry one bit. I will be coming home this summer to see yourdelicate face. Such innocence, so pure. Youwill save me and be mine.

All mine.....

When Fyodor woke up, his hair was wet…. Oh god, he drooled on it, and his hair was in his mouth…. 

Fyodor waved his wand, and he was back to perfection. He has spent the last couple of days learning how to cast spells. It all feels second nature to him. It's a weird sense that he has done all of this before. 

He noticed that teachers seemed to peer at him and look at him. They seemed to study him under their glares, similar to how the Headmaster looked at him and observed him at the orphanage. Fyodor paid no attention, thinking it was just the headmaster at the time, but now, Fyodor believes it may just be something more they are all hiding from him. For example, how did they know he was a wizard? It all feels too eerie and familiar. 

Oh well, he has his goal and a sense of guilt about attending a school for magic. Fyodor walked down the hallway to meet Sigma and the Golden Trio, as they say. 

What a funny nickname for a group. Fyodor thinks about it. 

Fyodor clenches his fists. He wants to dominate what he feels. He likes controlling his situation, which he plans to do. He cannot help but feel a bit lost on what to do. He made up his mind and figured out anything about his parents. He would need to figure out how to get files and to see if the professors knew anything. Their observations tell him they know more than they let on. 

When has Fyodor stuck with what adults say? They are all like children. Liers. All sinful creatures can genuinely believe they are always in the right. 

Fyodor finally makes it to court. Today is a weekend, so he and his peers have free time today—at least, he thinks he does. 

Throughout a couple of days, Ron has proven himself useful. He explained the magical world to Harry, Hermione, and Ron. He seemed part of a pure-blood family, yet he was humble and quite a lad. 

Ron’s family, the Weasly, seems to have a reputation in Hogwarts for one of the older siblings named Pierce….? Percy Weasley is a Grrifyndor perfect. Then Ron has twin brothers who are the biggest troublemakers he has met. Pranksters, just yesterday, made a mess in the potion’s classroom. They threw a bunch of owls into the classroom, which outraged Snape within seconds, causing him to yell at the twins. The twins had detention for the remainder of the month over the prank they pulled during class. 

Fyodor found out Snape is quite a bully, often removing points from students in his class for making a slight ‘eep’ noise or misunderstanding instructions in his class. Poor Neville seems terrified of the teacher. He tells Fyodor that he sometimes wakes up in fear in the dead of night before grabbing a candle and rereading his homework. Neville claims he cannot get potions right or do any spells correctly. He seems to have an affinity for messing up anything he touches. It seems to run in the family, Fyodor assumes, since Neville’s parents are locked in a shrink bin. 

Besides the point, he is meeting the trio today in the evening before the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Fyodor swears he can see the tension between the two houses today. He sees how the kids glare at each other in simple hatred and a weird smugness to their glares, telling the other house that they will win the first match out of many this year. 

Fyodor doesn’t get all the hype over the sport. It’s just people throwing balls at each other. While these students are messing up their little to no brain cells, they could be using those poor, abused brain cells to read a book or even pick up a pen instead of hitting it against a bludger.

Fyodor sighs at this thought and wonders how humans and wizards are sometimes so idiotic. 

“So I told him–Hey Fyodor!!” The potter waves at him. So Fyodor returned the favor and waved back the Potter. “Do you think I can do it? Catch the Golden Snitch?” 

“If you set your mind to finding the Golden Snitch, it only seems reasonable that you would be able to find it. Unless the other seeker has better eyes than you.” Fyodor glared at the Potters's glasses. 

“Always too honest…” 

“Do you ever not have a filter, Fyodor?” Ron questions. 

“Filter? Why should I have a filter?” Fyodor responds. He does have a filter. He just gets asked questions that require no filter. 

“Mhm, you say.” 

“Maybe develop one. My feelings cannot be hurt this much…” Harry looks to Hermoine. 

“What? I’m reading.” Hermonie gestures to the relatively thick book that she is reading.

“Seems like that’s the only thing you do… What is it with you and Fyodor with books…” Ron says. 

“Hey!” Hermoine blurts out. “This is why you always have to ask for help from me. There is no way you could have completed anything without MY help!” 

“Nu-uh, not true! You asked me questions about the magical world! You three would have been lost here if it wasn’t for me!” 

“....Touche— Fyodor, what do you have anything to say about this?”

I'm always being dragged into childish arguments….. Ugh. “What Ron said is true. We would have been lost here without his help, but you have a point for Ron’s homework skills. He would be able to complete it but without the quality of knowledge and fail the exams. Surprisingly, he could perhaps figure out how to barely float a feather with his skills.” 

“Enough with the slander children!” Fydor jumped as Quirrell appeared behind them. Holy. 

His chest. “We should all be nice to each other! Isn’t that right, Fyodor?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

“And you are going to apologize to Ron?” Quirrell loomed over Fyodor slightly 

“.........” No, Fyodor isn’t. He will not– but he has to– does he? Does he have to apologize to a ginger? 

“Yea, are you Fyodor?” Ron said smugly. 

“......” Ugh, he has to keep up the excellent kid impression, doesn’t he? Lord above, send mercy on him. His ego cannot take a tank right here in the court. 

“Fyodor…!” They egged him on. 

“Yes! I’ll apologize if it will only shut– quiet you both down! You two sound like squirrels that managed to argue if Mickey argued with Miney!”

“Really?!?” the Trio yelled out in surprise, their eyes widening up to the size of coconuts. 

“No. When pigs fly.” Fyodor crossed his arms and scoffed a bit, looking at the trio. Ron pulled his wand out and aimed it at Fyodor.

"Fyodor this isn't academic behavior someone would expect from their peers--" Quirrell attempted to finish his sentence by lecturing Fyodor for being dramatic ignoring the blunt of the trio's comments. 

“Levio–” 

“That’s not how the spell wo–” Fyodor was interrupted by Ron once again when he tried to explain the spell to Ron. Quirrell also pulled his wand out, looking at Ron as he attempted to use a spell. 

“I’ll just get the twins to do it for me then!” Ron exclaimed, throwing his wand back into his pocket– what a ridiculous brat. Quirell put his wand away, being a bit over dramatic and a scardy-cat. One could assume he doesn't have a spine meant to lecture eleven-year-olds. 

“You all are pulling my strings like those Slytherin prats.” Fyodor sneered. 

“We are nothing like the MALFOY BOY,” Ron and Harry snapped. 

"Now now, no need to be heated now. Why don't we separate for a bit--" Quirrell attempted to defuse the situation just to be ignored by the group. 

“I was thinking about Dazai and Nikolai. Those two seem to carry the same energy as you two.”  Fyodor shrugged towards them as Ron and Harry slightly opened their mouths a gap in pure shock. 

“I think Fyodor is right; you three are being loud like them both,” Hermoine dared to input into the conversation. Fyodor is nothing like those promiscuous and egotistic brats. He was a simple boy with high expectations of himself and anyone interacting with him. How dare they assume that he could snoop down to their level of idiocacy. 

“How could you compare me to those two!??” Fyodor pointed at the two, exasperated, his hair pointing in a different direction like he was struck with electricity, all instead from this comparison shock.

“HA–”

“Anyways! How is your practice doing, Harry?” Hermione tried to stop the boys from screaming at each other. 

"Thank you Hermoine! For taking my advice. Now--" Said the useless whimp of a teacher. 

“Oh–! Pr-practice is doing rather great! I hope we can beat the Slytherns in our first game next month! I just hope Snape would stop being a grit and assigning us so much homework.” Harry deflated it would seem, Fyodor noticed. “I just… hate.!” Harry seethed on the word ‘hate’ “that slimey git!” 

“Same here, can’t he understand that not everyone has a big brain like Hermonie!?” Ron threw his hands into the air and stared at Hermonie in slight awe and endearment towards his peer. The Potter had the same stare on his face it would seem. 

“I’m standing right here.” Fyodor huffed towards the three. The three both daring his intellect on not being the same level as Hermonie. Hmf. Absurdity Fyodor calls it. 

",,,,I guess I'm being ignored. What a day. What a weekend..." Quirell turns around and leaves the area. He scratches head wrap. Fyodor wonders if it's sweaty under the head wrap or not. Quirell seems to be scratching that turbine a lot. Oh well, he just took up useless space within his narrative. 

“Your ego is bigger than your brain you dimwit.” Ron snapped towards Fyodor. 

“Who are YOU calling a dimwi–”

“You BOTH stop arguing, I’m tired of de-escalating these situations! You know what! I can’t with you three. I’m off!” Hermonie turned around, and her robes flowed with the air as she stormed off to presumably the library. Perfect. There he could…. He could. 

EUGGHHH

Where Fyodor could most definitely not apologize to the girl named Hermoine— oh the two stormed after her as soon as she stormed off. 

There was no way Fyodor was going to get beat by these two idiotic pre-pubescent kids. No WAY. 

Fyodor stormed down the hallway, he chased the swirl of the black robes, and he followed the hot trail. Hermonie and the others ran upstairs and Fyodor, he himself wasn’t doing so well. 

His breathing kept on coming in and out, Fyodor was wheezing, he needed to apologize first before the other two. He placed his hand on the railings and willed himself to continue up the spiral staircase. Fyodor was about to give up on the chase just because he was going to pass out. 

Fyodor has more discipline than just passing out on the regular, he cannot pass out again, It’s barely even chapter 4? 

Chapter 4? What is Fyodor even talking about? 

He’s barely been here for what? A couple of weeks and these stairs still take Fyodor out? Nono, that cannot be a possibility for Fyodor. He is far too….

Who is Fyodor kidding? Fyodor is a sweaty wheezing mess and people are staring at him as he struggles to keep up, soon losing the fight to climb up the stairs without support. Fyodor is left once again alone, the stairs begin to twist and wrap itself to change directions. He looks around as he sees the trio disappear into the distance and with that, Fyodor falls to the ground, on his knees clutching his chest trying to catch his breath.  

As the stairs come to a slow halt, Fyodor thinks he should attempt to get some sort of help. Either way, he runs around in circles and cannot do anything about it. 

Fyodor is alone on the staircase and all he can do is walk into the hallway. Which he does. He doesn’t want to be stranded on a staircase when he could find a different shortcut that he could take. Thus he wanders into it. Not the smartest of choices but irking to know what is in this portion of the school was simply too much to ignore. He noticed that the lights started to dim as if he was starting to get further and further away from the main staircase. Fyodor wondered if this was the right decision to wander further in or if he was making a mistake this entire time. Fyodor wondered if he could make mistakes, but Fyodor cannot make mistakes. If everything is outlined in God’s plan, there is no mistake, every action has been accounted for. 

But that doesn’t change the chills going down Fyodor’s spine, it’s the same chills he gets whenever he enters a church or monastery. He pulls his robes closer to his frame and he continues walking. Perhaps he can see a couple of the ghosts again, or a student…. Maybe a teacher can point him in the right direction.

He finds himself walking on floors that creak. He is careful around these, walking straight ahead to a staircase. Fyodor walks up the staircase hoping it’ll lead him up a tower and he can find out what part of Hogwarts he is stuck on. Fyodor carefully grips the walls on each end and begins his climax. He notices the walls are getting closer, seeming that the walls are telling Fyodor to turn back around and head back where he came from. 

A thought came to Fyodor’s head. What if Hogwarts is alive? Trying to keep its students alive and well. Magic was an outlandish thought for Fyodor not even a month ago, and now he is attending a magic school. He is still grasping at the thoughts that he might never see the pearly gates. Or even attend heaven. But he cannot change what he is, and he’s coming to terms with it. He had faith before that perhaps God would love him despite his… special predicament of being afflicted with the wrong body type, and overall rejecting his femininity and womanhood in place of manhood. Fyodor frowns, he holds his robes a bit closer to his frame as he walks up the stairs. 

Fyodor finally reaches the peak of the old staircase, he looks at the doorknob and murmurs “Alohomora” waving his wand to open the door without a struggle. Fyodor proceeds to open the door then. He expected to see a small room, perhaps he thought that this was the room for astronomy. Maybe there would be telescopes or maybe this was the nunnery for the owls so he also thought there was gonna be hay and a bunch of owls. None of that is in the room. Instead, there's a singular mirror. 

Fyodor wonders what is under the mirror, he approaches it. There is a white cloth covering the majority of the mirror. He gently removes the the cloth from the mirror, and dustes it a bit. 

“What is this mirror doing here?” Fyodor tells to no one in particular. The mirror is quite pretty and vintage it seems. The rims are gold with medieval-like designs that are carved into the rims, twisting around like a vine. Some parts were coated with a fur of dust which led to Fyodor’s first and second question, how long has it been since anyone been up here? The second question would be would he have to walk down back? Fyodor did not want to make the journey back down. That would take far too long in Fyodor’s opinion. 

Fyodor took off the cloth from the top of the mirror and folded it neatly beside him, he was curious. Something tells him that he should look in the mirror. An Irky whisper that seems so familiar yet so different. He stared at the mirror in front of him and he saw nothing. 

“Lumos” Fyodor cast, he wanted to see if he was seeing nothing in the mirror. There is nothing in the mirror. The light seems to avoid the mirror and it remains dark. Fyodor slowly steps forward, places his hands on the mirror and he falls through. Shards break as he falls through. 

Fyodor doesn’t know if he screamed, but the mirror swallowed him in darkness. He grabbed onto his wand for dear life. He spent too much money on the wand to lose it in the mirror. Fyodor wasn’t even sure he had a warranty or even insurance on wands. 

Fyodor felt weak falling and curled up on himself. He clasped his hands together and hoped he didn’t hit the floor. He opened his mouth the scream in frustration and something went in. He coughed and gagged, tears threatening to spill from choking. Fyodor is suffocating, he moves his hands to try and fight whatever is killing him. He can’t inhale. His eyes trembled, and he felt his pupils further dilate. It was like he was struck with lighting, he wasn’t going to make it alive, wasn’t he? 

His vision finally faded as his body hit the floor hard.