[past - marauder's 7th year - open]

It was not often that Arya felt this restless feeling rising in her chest. In general, she had a fairly large attention span and could sit in the Gryffindor common room or the library for hours upon end, detailing essays using her favorite quill or reading Hélas, Je me suis Transfiguré mes Pieds, the first play she ever read, for the millionth time. She could sit on one of the richly upholstered couches and stare into the fire for hours, just thinking, which she preferred to the company of most people nowadays, though there were a few she could talk to. But right now, the fact of the matter was that she could just not stand to sit still for another second.

It was almost nerve-wracking to her, this itching in her legs, this burning need to get out and do something. She was used to being the calm one, the collected one, the dignified one that stayed in-bounds at the school and stayed in bed after hours. In fact, she was perfect prefect material, breaking as few of the rules as possible so as to avoid more attention being on her. But tonight, with that restiveness rising in her, she felt just plain weird and decided she couldn’t stand it anymore.

Although Arya knew well enough that curfew ended in only a few minutes’ time, she left the common room and continued with a long, graceful step through the dungeons, her back kept ramrod straight as usual. Reaching a narrow flagstone staircase, she ascended it, her steps light even as every click her heels made against the floor echoed back at her as though the noise was ten times louder than it actually was. When she came to the top of the staircase, she paused, withdrawing her wand as she lit it with a whispered Lumos.” She couldn't quite remember what floor she was on, but she continued ahead, walking smoothly down a long corridor filled with suits of armor that glinted through dust with the reflected light of her wand. She stepped out into a larger corridor next, heading towards a door directly adjacent to the corridor she had just exited.

This was the Trophy Room. It wasn’t a large room, very simple, round with the usual grey stone walls which were lined with glass classes filled with awards and trophies, plaques and medals. She stepped to the first case, brushing thin fingers with their immaculately kept nails across the glass lightly, struggling to read the engraved lettering on the plaque in the dim light. Award for Special Services to the School, it read, her wand light shimmering off the smooth gold. She coudn't even make out the name, as it was obscured in a thick layer of dust. It had to be pretty old to accumulate so much dust. She wondered if anyone in her family had known this person.

Sighing deeply, Arya stepped back from the glass. Her warm breath had made a little foggy spot on the surface as she had struggled to read the words on the plaque. Smiling, she drew a small swirl in it with her pinky nail, watching as the picture slowly dissipated and wondering when that restlessness would choose to leave her be.

[I'm aware that this is the wrong account, and I was going to fix it, only I'm lazy. So pretend it's my past account.]