Burnt Biscuits (Open) Jan 27, 2018 21:14:47 GMT -7
Post by Billy Hartman on Jan 27, 2018 21:14:47 GMT -7
It was that kind of day. The kind of stay in which one opts to stay inside for sake of their vitality. Snow was building up a wintry fortress outside, and whilst Billy was usually the first one to run out and build a fort, he felt under the weather today to say the least. Stumbling through the halls aimlessly, he looked for things to do, even picking up a few pieces of trash along his way, which was nothing like him. Sighing noticeably often to no one in particular depicted explicitly Billy's mood.
The Gryffindor had traversed through, up and down, the clock tower, around the stairs, through the library (making sure not to read any books on his way), into the Great Hall, and to the dormitories. All of them seemed to be especially glum for some reason, like their was an apocalypse. Billy stilled tried to play eye spy and stuff with himself to pass the time, but that is harder than one might speculate.
Walking down into the dungeons, a foul stench of burnt food permeated from the kitchens. Shrugging, Billy proceeded plainly. A cluster of house elves huddled around one of the counters with smoke rising profusely. "What's up guys?" Billy asked nonchalantly, walking over to get a glance.