WALKING DOWNÂ the long corridor from the kitchens, kingslley balanced a plate full of sweets on each hand. As he passed the large still life that formed the entrance to the kitchen, he heard a chuckle behind him. â what? getting any food you can ask for is the only reason i come back every year. â he grinned at the other.
     Archibald was hungry and so obviously, he made his way to the kitchens at Hogwarts. He loved all the food there was and he loved not having to make it. As he entered, he came upon Kingsley, having the same plan as he has. âGreat minds think alike, man. Look, you canât eat all of that, how about I take over one of your plates and we go have us a feast?â he asked with an exciting grin.
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Archibald is annoyed by people prone to rearranging things. He knows he is messy, but there is structure in his mess. Do not go rearranging things, he will not be pleased.
Archie grew up on a sheep farm and played in the fields. He was also clumsy, so his legs and arms are full of little, and bigger, faded scars.
Archibald is not a player, as in he doesnât go out to seduce people, but through his relationships and them being short as well as frequent, he has sort of earned that reputation, though he didnât mean to do that.
âWhy do you need a model? Do you not know what the female form looks like?â She wanted to joke further about showing him, but thought that would cross the carefully laid boundary of their friendship. So she held her tongue and kept her eyes on the blank paper. They were in a good place now and she wouldnât be the one to jeopardize that. âI missed you too. My dad taught me a cute duet and Iâve had no one to share it with.â
     Archibald laughed. âI sure knows what it looks like, it was a joke. I donât need a nude model, I donât think that anyone would want to do that for me anyway but even if I know what a body looks like, drawing it always goes easier with a model.â he admitted. âBut tell me more about this cute duet? I totally want in on that.â
âOi, have you heard my newest summer hit yet? Itâs called Voldemortâs got a stinky bum. Itâs topping all the charts, too, and, if I say so myself, the bridge is a work of genius.â It wasnât, really; this was hardly his best work thus far, but it was an iconic song, for sure. Besides, protest songs were the best ones, werenât they?
     Archie laughed as he heard the title of the song. âawesome, dude. you gotta play it for me, iâll totally harmonize.â he jokingly said and ran his fingers through his hair. âand we need to have a jam session, potter. you know, compose some songs like... i donât know, about mcgonnagal. or if weâre daring, dumbledore and his obvious innocence. dude, we could make a protest song. dope, no?â he asked, already seeing their song played at a peaceful march.
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A huge part of Caradoc fought to keep from yelling out YOU DONâT GET IT but instead he kept his lips relaxed. âThis is not a story, Archibald. This s a poem, an expression of ones grief and emotional process. How exactly is one to grow if they suppress the darkness of ones mind? That is not balance, and I did not ask for your advice.â He added sharply, not realizing the effect of his words could hurt the feelings of someone just trying to help. âBesides, you and Daisy were not Wendy and I. Just because you two can be friends, does not mean that we can.â
     Archibald raised his hands at the sharp tone in caradocâs voice. âwhoa, i didnât mean to make you feel worse; quite the opposite. i just figured... poems, like songs, are expressions of feelings and through them we want to tell stories. everything, in a sense, is a story. whether fiction or reality. i am not good with just poetry, but i consider some of my songs to be so... i know a little about like, creative proces and stuff.â he said, lowering his hands. âbut if you want to sit here all depressed and stuff, thatâs alright. i wonât stop you...â he told him and sighed. âdaisy and i were also pretty serious, you know, and we struggled too in the beginning... and maybe friends isnât where youâll end up but like, things have a way of sorting themself out. whatever that may be.â he said, meaning every word. âand again, sorry if i made you feel bad. not my intention.â
âA hair cut and color is all it takes for you not to recognize me. My feelings are very hurt, Archi, but I suppose I should forgive you since there was a compliment wrapped in there.â Daisy wasnât that bothered. She assumed he had just been teasing her. Plopping down beside him, she rested her head on his shoulder. It was nice to be back. âDo I get to see what youâre drawing?â
     He was surprised to see it was daisy heâd spoken to and he got up, still a big grin on his face and went over to give her a one arm hug. âdaze! i missed you so much.â he said, in a friendly way. he then sat down again, as she sat down next to him. âi totally didnât recognize you from the back. you look great.â he said and had to stop himself from reaching out to move a strand of hair back. they were friends now, that would be totally inappropriate, he knew that. he chuckled at her question and just turned the blank page towards her. ânothing yet. thatâs why i need a muse. you know, i could totally use a model for this female nude i want to draw;â he said, his face void of any humour, though inside he was already laughing. he obviously didnât mean it but he just wanted to see her reaction.
Caradoc raised an eyebrow to the boy. âIt doesnât need help really, just time.â He noted in a monotone lull. âDark.â Dark was the night he spent outside Wendyâs window, throwing pebbles and pleading. Thatâs one I need to rememberâ pebbles and pleading. âHave you met my fuckinâ ex man? Iâm sure you have.â He murmured, nearly positive that he did. Everyone knew CaradocandWendy.
     Archibald raised his eyebrows and shook his head. âdude, if you want to have this story like, grow and stuff do what i do. take some distance, do something thatâll inspire you like nature walks, music, dancing... you know, free your mind, man.â he told him, not sure that sulking and being all serious would help him one bit. âand of course i know wendy but like... daisy is my ex and we are great friends now. it just takes some time, again... distance, man. breathing, relaxing. you need that.â he remarked, not sure if he did or not but well, who didnât enjoy a good time? exactly. everyone, he thought.
     As he sat in the corridor of the castle, with his sketchbook and pencil in his hand - which heâd bought in a muggle shop because the quills really werenât all that easy to draw with - he looked at the students passing by. he looked at someone who he thought had quite a special look, different... âhey, excuse meâ he called out. âhave you ever thought of being a model, you know... my muse. i kinda need one to practice my drawing skillsâ he said, with a big, what he assumed to be charming grin.
âThis? This piece is not yet finished. The pacing is wrong. All wrong. But if you do want to read something I wrote on the train this one is titled âblack void of the heart.â
archibald sat down next to caradoc and looked at the paper. âi mean, i donât ever write anything other than songs but like... i mean... songs need pacing, rhythm... if you want, i can try to help.â he said, looking back up at the other guy. âalso, that other story, sounds kind of dark, man.â
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â§*:シďžâ§ merlin! is that CHORD OVERSTREET? no, itâs just ARCHIBALD SMITH the 6TH & HUFFLEPUFF ( MUGGLEBORN ). weâve heard rumors that HE ( CISGENDER MALE ) is RESPONSIBLE, CREATIVE & HELPFUL but can also be very UNTIDY, CLINGY & WORRYGUT. if i had to pick one song to describe HIM it would PREDICTIONS BY SUZANNE VEGA. Good luck with the rest of your time at Hogwarts.
archibald is the son of two muggles, susan and edward smith. they were twenty-seven when they finally had a child, after years of trying. they were over the moon and doted on their little boy.Â
his parents were sheep farmers in the north of england. their family wasnât rich, but werenât poor either. they always got by, but it wasnât by much. archie never minded though. his parents loved him, he had everything he needed and he was happy. what more could a little boy want?
he spent his days playing in the fields, together with his little jack russel named dalton and his childhood was perfectly normal. he loved music and painting, and got an old guitar for his eight birthday, started singing and painted whenever he wasnât doing homework. everything was normal and perfect, until he turned nine. things started to do weird things around him. things exploding when he was mad, was quite noticable and well... he always got these weird day dreams. day dreams of things that then would seem to happen. it was terrifying.
at some point, though, when he was ten, his father sat him down and told him something about their family that shook archibald to his core. his grandfather, his fatherâs father was a squib. that meant that he was born to two wizards but that he had no magic. he still had magic in his genes though, and that was probably what was what was causing these strange things. archibald was a wizard and it was thrilling to the little boy.
when he was eleven, he got his acceptance letter for hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry and together with his grandfather, he went to go buy schoolsupplies in the most amazing place heâd ever been to: diagon ally. he got himself a harlequin toad because the little creature was just so colorful and beautiful. he named him dalton the second, so that he would be reminded of his little dog he couldnât take with him. he was chosen by the only silver lime 11 inch long wand with a unicorn hair core. the wandmaker looked at him and just smiled softly, which was odd to archie but he shook it off.
he would later discover that the wandmaker had smiled because heâd known what was yet to be revealed to archie. he was a seer. this became obvious during divination classes, where he got a vision about an accident that was about to happen in london and which, subsequentially did happen. it was scary to the then fourteen year old student but he was calmed down by his professor. what he had was a rare and wanted ability. archie wasnât so sure. he didnât want to become some fortune teller. he wanted to be a musician, an artist. he barely had passing grades. he wasnât even sure if heâd get any n.e.w.t.s whatsoever.
he joined the quiddich team in his second year, when they needed a new keeper. he loves sports, heâs always been a physical person but he knows heâll never be a quiddich star and he doesnât want to be. he just enjoys the game and the friendships he has developped in the team.
he is studying to get his n.e.w.t.s though, but only in divination, xylomancy and charms - which he is quite good at but really, he isnât a great student. there are other things he likes, such as writing music, painting and organizing parties - but never too crazy. he doesnât like it when people get drunk and do crazy things. his parties have good music, good food but never much alcohol or other âfun thingsâ. he just likes to dance. he likes to have a good time, get along with people and just really wants everyone to relax some more but apparently, the wizarding world is just as messy as the muggle world.
he is also openly bisexual in the wizarding world, but not at home in the muggle world. it isnât rare to see him with his nails painted or wearing something that is a bit more on the âgirlyâ side.