sad

He would have never expected feeling like this. After everything, everything; all the shit he had been through, all the pain, all the sacrifice, all the loss--- Caradoc thought he would have felt a rush of relief and calm. But no, of course not, it never happened like that; then it would all be just too easy. Instead, he had to feel that nauseating pull in his stomach along with the will to just completely give up.

Give up. Give up? There was nothing else left to give up. He had nothing. Anything that meant everything was back in Wales, which he was not allowed to go back to ever again. It sounded stupid, and childish, but Dumbledore had distinctly shaken him awake from his state of agony to clearly get the point across. Don't come back.

Don't come back. You cannot. It was still ringingly clearly in his head. The only clear thing he could remember from the previous forty-eight hours, in fact. Dumbledore's grim face practically pressed to his as it felt like his skin was burning itself off. A pair of white hands clutching to the collar of his shirt to keep Caradoc up as his head flopped on his shoulders.

He should be angry. After all, all of this was the old man's fault. But... at that point in time, Caradoc could hardly find it in himself to lift his head up from the window, let alone put energy into feeling any kind of emotion aside self pity.

For the first time, in a long time, Caradoc gave a painfully miserable sigh. Yes, he understood that this was his only option; go here, or die there. Take the portkey now Dearborn! But was it really worth it? Right now, he certainly didn't think so, or even faintly believe it. Panama was a foreign country that he knew nothing about, spoke a different language, had not one soul he knew, and most certainly didn't make him feel any better about the decision he hadn't had a hand in making.

He had made his choice, it was just others that couldn't live with it. Eventually, Caradoc supposed he would be able to find it in himself to forgive Roderick, eventually thank him, but not now. Dying would have been so much simpler. He had chosen to die. He had prepared himself, everything had been put in place! He had let go of everything that was important to him to--- to keep her alive.

A whistle sounded from the back of the train, followed by some quick spanish. Caradoc numbly recognized the sound of a town name, but did not get up. His stop would always be the last stop, and for now, he was contently numb with watching the world pass by him through the small train window. He couldn't move his body if he wanted to anyway.

first year

'Hmmm, a Dearborn, how interesting.'

Caradoc smirked as he kicked his legs back and forth while sitting on the stool, absolutely embracing the attention he was getting from the sorting hat. He had known for ages that all you had to do was sit on a silly chair and let an old hat read your mind to know what house you'd be put in. Though earlier, he had gotten this blonde girl that had already been sorted in Hufflepuff thinking you needed to wrestle a giant for them to know. That had been fun.

'You are a cagey little character, aren't you?' The Sorting Hat's voice whispered in Caradoc's ear, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He stopped kicking his legs, but they still swung helplessly every few seconds. Get on with it already.

'You certainly have the mind to fit in Ravenclaw. Though, I am not certain you are interested in the joy of learning, or the journey of knowledge. Hufflepuff, perhaps? No, no that definitely isn't the right place for you either.'

Caradoc regained from his mini heart-attack quickly, and closed his eyes shut to think hard. Slytherin, Slytherin.

'Slytherin, you say? Now why do you say that? Well...you do have the drive, and surely are cunning enough. But you certainly are brave also-- almost too brave, I would say. You would be a nice fit in Gryffindor.'

Caradoc's feet stopped dead almost at once, his eyes going wide under the hat. Gryffindor, Gryffindor?! No, no-- it couldn't be, he'd absolutely die, never be able to show his face anywhere again if he was sorted into Gryffindor! Gryffindor was for losers, Gryffindor was for mudbloods, Gryffindor was for idiots that couldn't tie their own shoelaces together. How could those buffoons be his peers? How could he---

'Oh dear, don't go and have a heart attack. Are you sure? You could do great things under Godric Gryffindor.'

Was he sure? Was he sure! Of course he was sure, he had never been so sure about anything in his entire life! Gryffindor would be the end of him, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. Bravery and courage? Where did that get you when you could be cunning and ambitious? In Slytherin he could make a name for himself, in Slytherin he would achieve greatness, in Slytherin he would---

'Fine, then.'

“Slytherin!”

Entirely pleased with himself, Caradoc Dearborn hopped off the stool and strutted toward the table decked in silver and green with his chest puffed out. The fact that the hat had almost seriously shackled him to Gryffindor was an idea of the past. He knew this was the right choice.

giddy

Today. Oh, today. Today was a glorious day. And not just because it was that perfect weather when there were only this many clouds in the sky and the sun was bright enough with just the right strength of breeze to make you feel cool and warm at the same time as you lay out in the field. Oh no, no. That had nothing over this. Freedom always trumped pleasure.

“I’m getting out of here, I’m getting out of here!” Caradoc sang, too busy dancing like a fool to acknowledge his fuming sibling.

“Shut up, Caradoc!” Juliet yelled, her face forming into an aggravated frown as she crossed her arms over her chest. She still had two more soul-sucking years with their parents, and oh boy, he could tell that this did not please her. One. Bit.

“Bahahaha!” the eleven-year-old cackled, jumping down from the bed and almost on top of his sister. No more house, no more disgusting Filkes, no more insane parents, no more being shipped off to "parties" with insufferables his age--- he was FREE! His life began here. His real, honest to Merlin life was finally beginning.

Juliet let out a heated huff, and without so much as another word, spun toward the door and walked out of the room.

Caradoc blinked for a moment, watching his sister retreat. Well, there couldn’t be any of that now, he wasn’t done gloating. Marching behind her, he held the letter out for a proper readign.

“Dear Mr. Dearborn!” Caradoc began, proclaiming the words before him at the top of his lungs. “We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

Juliet had stalked off into her room and slammed the door in his face, but that couldn’t really stop him. “YOU HEAR THAT JULIET! THEY'RE PLEASED. THEY WANT ME, EVEN!”

“GOOD, THEY WILL BE THE FIRST!”

He cackled again, finding his sister’s rather pathetic attempt at a comeback endearing. She had tried, she really had, but nothing could ruin this day for him. Plopping himself in front of her door, he squinted his eyes to continue reading.

“PLEASE FIND ENCLOSED---”

Caradoc paused only briefly as something hard slammed into the door.

“--- A LIST OF ALL NECESSARY---”

A grin formed on his lips as Juliet let out a banshee-like screech.

“--- BOOKS AND EQUIPMENT. Juliet would you like to know all the things I get to buy? Here, I will read them to you----”

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