Thestrals; creatures that although not aesthetically beautiful ─ not in the conventional way someone claims that a beast is majestic or endearing ─ have an immensely interesting fact about them: such creatures are only visible for wizards and witches who have seen death happen in front of their eyes.

For everyone else, less traumatized and happier, Theodore assumes, it's an invisible force pulling carriages instead.

Not many students can say that they've seen a Thestral outside pictures and drawings, even describing the creatures as obscure, morbid. But opposite to their nightmare-ish appearance, Thestrals are gentle; good judges of character, despite their skeletal body, pale eyes and reptilian features, wings that lack feathers but resemble a bat. In opposition to most students, and agreeing with a certain half giant, you found Thestrals to be deserving of love.

So now, strolling on the Forest and on the receiving end of these beasts' attention, you were once again proved that Thestrals aren't as bad as people portray them to be. Just misunderstood.

"So you can see them too, huh," the Italian accent settles a stone on the eery silence of the Forbidden Forest, louder than the gentle sounds of birds and wind ruffling the leaves and tree's branches. Leaning against a tree, the Slytherin doesn't wear his usual school attire, not needing the green tie to serve indication of his identity.

Blue eyes stare at you for a moment, before lowering his gaze and taking a drag from his cigarette. Thestrals, he muses; relentlessly had he sought for similarities or things in common to find a connection with you ─ and out of everything he could find, of course it had to be the ability to see these bloody Thestrals.