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Damaris Denton

A Knight in Shining Armor

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Damaris Denton

When Damaris was sorted at Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat had told her that she easily could have been a Gryffindor. While there was no way she could imagine herself being a house of such complete cowards, (save a couple of possible exceptions), she got what the Sorting Hat meant. She had no fear. She just didn't have it. Not when it came to taking on a challenge or having words with a school authority figure. 


She had received the antidote to the poison she'd taken far quicker than the Hogwarts students that had stayed behind in the Great Hall after she'd left. That would certainly show the prefects that had crashed the party--ironically, Damaris was fairly certain that she'd ended up in more danger after they'd arrived, not less. 


Her heart had not stopped beating rapidly in her chest. She was trying to memorize everything about the Durmstrang ship, and about the cloak that Asen had wrapped around her shoulders. 


Man, she had so much to tell @Killian Dracel.


"Thank you again," she said, managing to look up at Asen for the briefest of moments. "You know, for defending me and everything. I've never trusted prefects. Do you have them at Durmstrang? If you don't, you're really lucky. They act like they know everything when they don't." She grumbled under her breath. 


What was she supposed to do now? She had no idea how she was supposed to stand or what she was supposed to say. She almost didn't want to go back to her common room or even inside the castle again. 

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