Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Green is also envious, selfish and greedy. Write about someone rich.

Words: 436





"Zacharias Xerxes Smith! If you are not sitting at your desk down here in thirty seconds I will come and get you!", Zacharias' mother's voice echoed thorough the stairwell.

"And trust me, young man you do not want that to happen!"

The child in question was currently biting his tongue with his front teeth in deep concentration. He furrowed his brow as he felt one of his coloured marbles fall out of his pocket. He heard the impact clearly, but chose not to look down.

Best not to think about it.

Sometimes, he could really see the point in behaving like an ostrich ( - he always listened when his nanny told him fantastical stories about exotic, sometimes even muggle animals - ) but even that was not possible, considering that he was still twenty-five feet over the ground! And in a hurry, considering his mother always stood by her word. The clock was ticking.

He exhaled loudly.

Not that he had a fear of heights, mind you. But standing on a windowsill nearly three storeys off the ground, with just the gutter to hold on to would make anyone uncomfortable. Even him, though he was not just anyone – he was a Smith! The Smith. Heir to one of the most influential families in the wizarding world. The Smiths were a family of merchants, right there with the Malfoys and Potters, now that the Blacks had fallen so far over the last twenty years.

But he hated the constant tutoring, the never-ending etiquette lessons, the fancy dinner and tea parties he was always dragged to by his mother. And his father was never there, just running from one business meeting into the other. It seemed as he was only ever there to scold him.

"Yes!", Zacharias exclaimed whispering excitedly.

He had finally managed to pull himself onto the roof and scurried, feet on both sides of the ridge, towards the big chimney. His favourite place, hidden from everyone – his mother would have his head if she knew of it – and a great vantage point from which he could both look on one side into the courtyard and on the other side across the family's lands.

Some days, he spent several hours just lying there, observing the birds that nested on the far side of the roof and his mother running around in the sitting room, which was on the other side of the courtyard. She was still calling for him. Who cared about stupid perfect 'My Daddy is the Greatest' big-headed little Malfoy – clone's stupid birthday party? He, for sure, did not.

Here, he was free.


A.N.: R&R, please ;)