He flinched when the spell ended, free to display the recoil from the pain magic brought still since he was alone in his room. Ever since he had pushed it with the dementors, using magic felt like he was burning his insides. It was getting better - thankfully - and flare-ups only happened when he used magic for too long or did something far too hard too quickly. In the beginning, it had been any magic and he felt like hot knives were slicing through his veins. Not wanting to bother anyone with his troubles - or get anyone else in trouble because he certainly hadn't done anything right trying to
stop all of them going to find the dragon in the forest and Merlin forbid he bring attention to the fact that
Keith fucking Anderson kept the blasted dragon eggs instead of sending them to a dragon sanctuary or something like any sane person would have - he hadn't bothered to go to the infirmary to seek any sort of help and simply did his best to not do magic. Which was kind of stupid in hindsight, what with being at a school of
magic but he was stubborn and it was working.
He tossed his wand to his bed with the need to be free of it. He mindlessly rubbed his palm as he stared at his work, worrying the only area that had been part of the flare-up that was rubbable to both ease the pain and as a show of how nervous he was.
Before him as an outfit that looked out of place in the middle of Hogwarts but, seeing as it was Halloween, that was understandable. It wasn't something that would probably be recognizable.
He had the idea to go as Merlin but not just the Merlin out of their history books or old drawings or paintings. He wanted to go as Merlin from muggle media, specifically from the one with actor Sam Neill in it.
Now, granted, he had taken some liberties with the specific
outfit he was pulling: using feathers from mythical creatures to decorate the coat collar, going with a green piece that looked more like dragon scales than woven fabric, and enchanting the blue outer piece to appear to have the night sky infused with the fabric upon closer inspection, galaxies and the Milky Way included, simply because he could.
The only thing now was actually putting it on and going down to the feast. He was confident in his craftsmanship but he wasn't sure what any of the other students would think.
There was a knock on his door and he looked over, calling out, "Come in."
One of the Seventh Year Ravenclaws poked his head in, a cheep vampire caplet on his shoulders, fake blood dripping from the corners of his lips on clearly painted pale skin. "Hey. We were wondering if-whoa."
Phyrun bristled as the Seventh Year stepped into his room fully, eyes on the costume still displayed. The Seventh Year grinned, baring fake vampire teeth, and called out, "Hey guys. Come check out what Dalca made."
A cluster of other students were suddenly in his room and he realized that a few of them weren't even from his house as he was quickly pushed away from the costume he had put so much time and effort and magic into. Fear was trying to choke him as the original Seventh Year Ravenclaw chortled. He wasn't one to get bullied but there were still a lingering few that found ways to be harsh when they felt like it.
It would see this was one such time as the original Seventh Year Ravenclaw turned his gaze on Phyrun, the look sharp and spelling trouble. "What even is this?"
"This your costume, Dalca?" A Seventh Year Hufflepuff was carefully carding her fingers over the blue fabric. She had noticed the stars he had painstakingly enchanted into the fabric.
"This piece of scraps?" A Seventh Year Gryffindor commented from the depths of the crowd.
There were several bouts of laughter, the original Seventh Year Ravenclaw the loudest. "What do you think he's going as? A beggar or a hag?"
That got another bout of laughter that was louder than the last and Phyrun felt his face heat up. He took solace in the fact that there were a few in the group that were frowning at the others, the Seventh Year Hufflepuff being one of them, as well as another Seventh Year Gryffindor and two Ravenclaw. Still...
"Are you quite done," he cut through, his words cold. The original Seventh Year Ravenclaw glared at him, the look almost promising murder if Phyrun hadn't trusted that he could take the other down if needed. "I will have you know I was practicing different spells and their affects on attire. And if you are indeed done, then I must ask you to leave this room so that I may head down to the feast and keep an eye on the house as Prefect."
"You're not going to wear this?" the Seventh Year Hufflepuff asked, sounding affronted. By what, Phyrun was sure, but her face seemed to translate that she was disappointed he wouldn't. The three others that had not laughed were looking at the piece in more detail, shocked expressions on their faces when they understood her words. Their gazes were on him in an instant.
"You put so much effort into this," one of the two Seventh Year Ravenclaws commented, his hand still buried in the coat's collar. "Surely you're going to showcase this at the feast."
Phyrun dully noted that the four that seemed to support his craftsmanship and idea were all wearing well crafted costumes themselves. The Gryffindor was wearing something that spoke heavily of muggle influence but that could have been a misinterpretation, seeing as the magical world and muggle world weren't overly different when it came to myths and costumes.
"Why would I do that?" he asked in a monotone voice, aware of the crowd watching him. It hurt to say the words he needed to say. He certainly wasn't going to wear his costume now. "It's just some practice scraps."
The glee that filled the rest of the group was sickening but he pretended it didn't affect him as they all started to finally file out. The group of four lingered, the Hufflepuff turning to him with the others.
"You should wear it," she encouraged, the others nodding. "Ignore them and wear it. It's very well done, well crafted-"
"And I liked that movie," the Gryffindor interjected, his eyes alight in glee despite the heavy expression he wore. "I didn't think anyone else would pull from muggle fantasy like that and it looks so cool magicked like that." The Gryffindor's gaze went back to the outfit in longing.
"You could wear it."
The words echoed in his head oddly and it wasn't till he realized the surprise and glee that was slowly spreading across the Gryffindor's expression was because he had spoken those words.
"Seriously?"
Phyrun shrugged. "It would be a shame to not see it worn."
"Then why don't you wear it?" the other Ravenclaw questioned, her hands gingerly wrapping around the other Ravenclaw's arm.
He gave her a flat look. "Because if higher years reacted like that, I'm not about to prove whether or not the rest of the school is as stupid as they were."
"I can seriously wear it?" the Gryffindor verified, gaze on the outfit again. "Will it even fit me?"
Phyrun shrugged. "Probably. I can enchant the size easily enough if it doesn't fit properly."
The Hufflepuff smacked the Gryffindor's arm, hissing his name, but Phyrun waved her off. "Let him wear it. I'll just go down in my uniform with my badge like I had planned had I not finished it on time anyways."
The others looked dejected at that but he didn't care. The Gryffindor certainly looked more the part than he would have at least, filling out the costume and looking so much like Sam Neill, it was rather scary. The Gryffindor did give him a bear hug before the group left and Phyrun found a few gold Galleons on his bed when he was left alone. Amused, he shook his head and pockets the money before picking up his Prefect's badge. At least he would be able to see Rachel's costume. She had been planning on doing Peter Pan since before the school year had started. Knowing her, she would have figured out how to pull off floating around and trailing a faux pixie dust.
Slipping his wand into an inner pocket, he closed his door and felt the protection spells fall into place.