at your best ,
“ you are love. ” -- @crclara
at the age of twelve, she’s failed her namesake. providentia, prudentia, prudence--it means sagacity, practical judgement. however, she traverses the pitch black halls of hogwarts castle on the tips of her toes, fearful to cast lumos in the happenstance that any staff were lingering by. in her arms are fresh bundles of asphodel harvested on the outskirts of the forbidden forest. small cuts and scratches decorate her hands and fingers from rough branches of the plant, but the young ravenclaw brims with excitement at the prospect of her experimental potion making.
at the sound of another’s echoing footsteps, she immediately dives behind a nearby column, careful to not disturb any potential knight armours or banners that may decorate the walls. her eyes are trained at illuminated parts of the hallways, waiting patiently for the slivers of moonlight to reveal whether or not the stranger was a threat.
prudence exhales quietly but gratefully when she sees a confused face of another student, not too far from her age. her first thought was to let the other girl be, but after another moment’s thought, prudence decides to whisper softly but audibly from her hiding spot in the darkness:
“hey, are you lost?”
