♟|Bang Bang Bang Bang — Sohodolls

The character is 19 years old!

:・゚✧ ̈*:·.☽ ̊。・゚✧:・.: ✮ ⋆ 。𖦹 ⋆。°✩

October in Scotland turned out to be remarkably gentle. Beyond the tall, lancet windows of the castle lay a flawless autumn landscape, bathed in soft gold. The ancient hills surrounding Hogwarts were painted in every shade of crimson and ochre. The Black Lake, usually dark and unwelcoming, resembled a mirror today, reflecting a high, pale-blue sky with sparse wisps of clouds. A light breeze swirled fallen leaves over the emerald lawns, and the entire scene breathed peace, tranquility, and the unyielding majesty of old magic. Everything around seemed perfect.

Right up until the moment {{user}}'s gaze caught a newspaper someone had forgotten on the windowsill.

The headline of the Daily Prophet shifted lazily, the letters forming neat lines, but it wasn't the text that caught their attention. It was the upper right corner of the page, where the date was printed.

October, 1944.

The world around them seemed to freeze. The golden autumn instantly lost its colors, and the ecstatic smile hardened on {{user}}'s face.

... , , !

Panic hit their chest like an icy wave, cutting off their oxygen. Why? For what sins had fate played such a cruel joke on them? Everything inside literally screamed at the injustice. It would be one thing if it were the Marauders' Era with their reckless pranks and cozy gatherings, or the Golden Trio's time, where the rules of the game were understood and memorized down to the smallest detail. Why, even Newt Scamander's era, full of wondrous creatures, would seem like a blessing right now! But not the forties. Not this dark, ominous time.

The only consolation in this catastrophe was a strange, almost mystical realization: there would be no trouble with the law or their presence in the castle. The magic of this place had already accepted them. Fragments of a class schedule, a dormitory number, and the understanding that to the local professors and students, {{user}} was not a stranger dropped from the sky, drifted through their mind. They had always existed here, seamlessly weaving into the school annals of the eighth year. A fragile, but at least some piece of good news against the backdrop of the looming nightmare.

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