Mark had been through a pretty rough day. He had received homework from every class he had taken. The Giant Squid of the lake accidentally knocked him into the lake as a few Hufflepuff girls played jump rope with at tentacle. He couldn't go back to the library. He had broken a chair while he was leaning back in it due to boredom. The chair was treated as a member of the librarian's family, and Mark was screeched out of the room. So he sat down on a bench in the courtyard, and heaved a sigh.
Of course, he grew bored after awhile. He began waving his wand around. He didn't say anything, so the wand remained relatively lifeless. Sometimes it hummed with anticipation if it seemed like he was going to finally cast something. But he never did. He just gazed absently up at the sky, wondering if tomorrow would be any better.
Mark was having a fantastic time at home. His family wasn't rich, but he had received several interesting presents. He already had a wizard chess board, a new set of quills and ink, and a wide assortment of treats and small and amusing items. He was enjoying his time at home immensely.
He sat at one of the larger tables in the library, putting the finishing touches on his DADA homework. It was based around Ashwinders... A magical creature that he was well acquainted with. But it was dull work. He emitted a loud sigh, tilting back his chair and placing his hands behind his head. It was well into the evening, moonlight already pouring in through the windows. He guessed that he was due to clear out in a few minutes. Madame Pince was shooting him the kind of look that an angry barn owl gave when ruffled. He sighed once again, the legs of his chair hitting the floor with a loud snap. Madame Pince scolded him in a mechanical fashion, the words sounding rehearsed. Mark wasn't listening though. His mind was on other matters. Perhaps turn in early? Or he could finish his homework now, rather than doing the rest in the Great Hall the next morning. He left the library deep in thought, Madame Pince's screeching voice following him out the door.
He drifted through the corridors with no direction in mind, as he usually did when he was bored. His books were tucked under his arm, and his legs moved slowly. It wasn't like he was in a hurry. He glanced at the various paintings and other objects assembled along the walls of the corridor. Some were new. Some he had seen many times before. Some were the latter, with the exception that they were not in the places they were at before on other occasions. He had not seen anyone yet. He imagined it to be sometime just after eight, so there wasn't a whole lot of traffic. He decided to make his way toward the Great Hall. Perhaps he would find some people he knew leaving after dinner.