Absit Omen RPG
Role-Play Boards => Hogwarts Grounds => Hogwarts => Quidditch Pitch => Topic started by: Huxley Ward on August 29, 2011, 02:30:41 AM
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There was about a half-hour's worth of daylight left wringing out of the evening sky when Huxley's perennial Quidditch pickup game dispersed. It was a bizarre gathering- the boys never seemed to discuss or agree upon a meeting time, but all found themselves at the pitch at the exact right time every week. And, like a clandestine order or an alcoholics' support group or something, none of the boys really mentioned the games to anyone. They all knew from experience that as soon as the word got out of anything fun or cool or enjoyable in any way whatsoever there would inevitably be a swarm of idiots to gum up the works.
There were boys from all four houses, and there was never a hint of tension between them as they played. No one cared about house loyalties at these games because- well- the boys played in their street clothes and with the blur of the players and the shouting, it was nearly impossible to keep track of who lived in what part of the building.
They played hard and rough, however, and Huck found himself with a sweaty brow, a dirty face and t-shirt, and a bruising on his ribs that he was sure was going to disagree with him in the morning. Which is exactly why they generally played at night. They had entertained one day game and had been filthy for the rest of the day in all their classes. And they were boys, and it wasn't a huge concern, but when the quantity of sweat caked to their bodies meant that they were sticking to everything, they decided that there was only room for their games while there was time to take a shower afterwards.
Huck let his broom clatter to the stone floor and slumped into a small bench near the entrance of the pitch, leaning against the cool rock wall hard and savoring the temperature difference. Summer was already champing at the bit to begin, and there had been a few nights that were unseasonably warm, this being one of them. He rifled through the knapsack he had taken with him. A bottle of water and a bag of strawberries were the only things he managed to locate, so he decided to laze around the pitch a while longer and have a snack.
The water was still icy cold thanks to some first-rate charming on Huxley's part, and the strawberries were so dark and fat and red that he half worried touching them would cause them to burst.
He always left these nights feeling abuzz with warm fuzzy feelings, but he managed to keep his face to its usual smoldering stare as he looked off into the grounds. ...And Huck had rotten night vision, but... wasn't that a figure?
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The sound of furious scratching rose higher as inspiration struck her unexpectedly. Sitting out by the lake became a nightly ritual shortly after her first year. Now, five years later, she leaned against the same tree, with a new sketchbook and charcoal, gazing out at the same lake. She was utterly content on nights like these, with only the nighttime sounds of nearby owls and the occasional howl of a far-away wolf. The darkening sky reflected on the ever-still black water turned a palette of every colour imaginable, especially on early summer nights like this.
Her shoulder-length auburn hair tickled her cheek as a light breeze of cool air swept from across the lake. It was a refreshing sensation, on this particular evening, because even though it wasn't technically summer, the days have grown more humid and the nights' heat lingered longer than it should. She hummed softly, closing her eyes to revel in the coolness.
Finally finished with her drawing, she looked down at it in admiration. It was a scene from her childhood: her and her mother went hiking along the coast of their village and found a wounded bird. It was a pleasant memory for Aurora, as was anything involving her mother, except for one in particular that she dared not think about. Smiling lightly as she closed her sketchbook and placed it--along with the charcoal--in her bag, she took one last look out at the peaceful lake before pulling her feet out of the water. I think I'll go for a walk, she decided, turning from her spot and slinging the bag over her shoulder.
I'm glad I took off my boots. Smiling, she walked across the lawns and toward the Quidditch Pitch barefoot. She loved the feeling: the grass blades caressing her toes and the thrum of the earth beneath her feet. Her jeans were rolled up to her knees from sticking her feet in the lake water and were still wet, but she didn't mind getting dirty.
Taking in the scenery, she didn't notice how quick it took to get to the Pitch, or the boy who watched her in curiosity.
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He craned his neck to spy on the girl, taking a bite of strawberry and chewing it slowly and thoughtfully. Barefoot, at dusk, on the Quidditch pitch. He smirked, thinking to himself that it sounded like he was playing a slightly-more-fun version of Cluedo.
Clothes in quite a state, he wished at times like these he had the propensity to dress more suavely; outside of classes and school functions, he favored plain white t-shirts, jeans, and the most ubiquitous variety of light brown leather workman's boot with the black rubber collar around the mouth. Not very distinguished, but neither was he.
As she wandered closer, he could make out some details. She was pretty, from what he could see across the increasingly dusky lawn.
He wasn't the type to approach women, but he had nothing against attempting to sway the odds in favor of them approaching him.
He took a greedy drink from his water bottle, and then cleared his throat loudly.
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Aurora was about to drop her bag and start running gleefully about the lawns, when a rather loud throat clearing stopped her in her tracks. I haven't been caught after hours, have I? she wondered a little anxiously, unwilling to look up to see who was there. Don't be absurd, it's not even that late. she told herself, feeling a little better. Sighing deeply, she turned her head to see who had snapped her out of her nighttime 'frolicking'.
There sat a boy about her age, all sweaty and dirty from what she presumed was Quidditch play, hence the Quidditch Pitch and the broomstick near him. He stared at her curiously, making Aurora uneasy at the attention. She was never one to be the center of attention: she usually blended into the background due to her solitary nature, and preferred it that way. What does he want? What do I say? Should I just keep walking? she wondered awkwardly, but kept her outward appearance that of cold indifference.
Out of all the students she had observed, she had no idea who this one was. He was holding a bottle of water, and beside him, a bag of strawberries. My powers of perception are frightening, she joked mentally and fought to keep a chuckle from escaping her throat.
Standing there like a statue, unsure of what to do, she sighed deeply once more; "Is there something you need?" she asked evenly in her Icelandic accent.
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Huxley's amusement was evident, and he was pursing his lips together in an effort to not laugh. His shoulders still shook slightly. It wasn't a cruel laugh or a taunting laugh, but with how squirrely she already seemed to him he didn't want to rile her up further. "Um," he said, still laughing a little, "sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out."
He took another, slower bite of strawberry, smiling devilishly as he did so. He leaned back a little and rested on his elbows. "I just usually don't see pretty ladies wandering around alone out here at night."
As he chewed, he felt sort of bad. She already seemed pretty ruffled, and he supposed that maybe acting like a cheeky little weasel wasn't the right way to go. "Do you want a strawberry?" he extended the bag. After a few moments, he shook the bag and grinned. "C'mon, they don't bite."
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Aurora's eyebrows twitched at the boy's laughter. She watched, immovable, as he took a bite of strawberry with a devilish smile. What a curious boy, she thought idly as he leaned back to rest on his elbows. "I just usually don't see pretty ladies wandering around alone out here at night." he said casually.
Aurora's entire face gave an involuntary twitch and she mentally cursed her brief moment's lack of composure. So he's one those boys, she noted and narrowed her eyes. "Do you want a strawberry?" he extended the bag. Aurora eyed the bag momentarily before gripping her bag strap and looking back at him. "C'mon, they don't bite." he shook the bag, grinning. Aurora felt a small breeze float through the air around her, ruffling her auburn hair to the side, exposing her neck. She mentally cursed herself for wearing a t-shirt: despite the humidity of that evening, she was getting goosebumps.
Well, I do like strawberries. If he did something to them, I'd be able to tell, so just do the polite thing and accept.
She nodded slightly and made her way toward the boy. "Thank you, that is very generous of you," she said softly and stood before him, picking out a plump strawberry quickly and taking a step back as to not invade his personal space. Twirling the berry between her fingers, she admired the quality of it and brought it to her mouth.
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Huxley felt silly. He usually didn't smile quite so much, but he could feel his eyes twinkling. Her discomfort with him, he figured, was the source of the entertainment. Usually if someone wasn't a fan of him, they'd just tell him to piss off and that would be the end of it.
"That's a pretty accent," he commented. "Now I feel all self-conscious with my ugly voice." This was, of course, a lie-at least partly- he did think her accent was beautiful but Huck liked the sound of his own voice very much. He was probably the only one in the whole world who didn't think his own voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard. It had a sleepy seductive quality that he was very proud of.
"You can come sit down if you want," he indicated all the free space on the bench. "I'm not tryin' to be a creep, I promise. You just look like you could stand to get off your feet for a minute."
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The puckering sweetness of the strawberry made Aurora hum in appreciation. Eating all but the little nub of a stem in a matter of seconds, she licked her lips greedily. "That's a pretty accent," the boy said suddenly, making Aurora look at him as if she forgot he was there. "Now I feel all self-conscious with my ugly voice."
Aurora quirked an eyebrow at the unexpected comment. My accent is pretty? she thought suspiciously, mentally rolling her eyes when he harped on his own accent, not buying it for one second. Do I look gullible?
Then he offered her a seat on the bench, and a particular comment actually made her snort lightly. Not trying to be a creep, she thought in amusement. Well, since he offered me a strawberry, I might as well grace him with my presence. she sighed and complied politely, taking a seat a comfortable distance between them.
She set her bag at her bare feet and looked out at the lawns. What now? I'm not one for small talk.
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He squinted at her, still sporting a slight, smug little grin. He'd never talked to anybody with such a brick wall of defense mechanisms. One of the things he prided himself in was the ability to wear somebody down until they finally just went with his flow.
Still smiling, he shook his head and stretched his arm muscles, which were beginning to cramp up. Under normal circumstances he'd be soaking in a wonderland of relaxing white-hot water, but as it was he felt the painful onset of ache seeping in. "My name's Huxley," he supplied after a minute of silence that he guessed was probably more awkward for her than for him. "Huxley Ward. You can call me Huck if you like."
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Sitting there in silence was not how she wanted to spend her evening. The past two weeks had taken her for a whirlwind and she just wanted to relax and become at peace. She could see him staring at her in her peripheral, and it made her uncomfortable. Does he expect something from me? she wondered, getting a little annoyed. He'll get bored and send me away soon enough.
"My name's Huxley," he said suddenly, causing her to look at him in little interest.
"Pleased to meet you, Huxley," she said politely with a slight bow, "I'm Aurora Bainsadottir. I just go by Aurora," she gave a friendly smile and crossed her right leg over her left, resting her hands on her knee. "I'm a fifth year Gryffindor," she added, thinking she might as well bring it up now rather than have him do all the talking.
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All right! Progress. He felt a little like a dog or a baby, feeling so rewarded by a little smile, but it wasn't every day he ran into someone who didn't give them away freely. Even though Huck liked to mess with people, he loved to smile while he did it. Whether it was sick or sweet, he wasn't sure.
When she mentioned that she was in Gryffindor, he laughed and bit his lip. "Ooh. Well, I'm a fifth year as well," he said first, "but I'm, uh, I'm in Slytherin. Sooo if you'd rather not be seen with me, I'd totally understand," he joked. Well... it was mostly a joke. The house rivalry seemed so bitter at times that it echoed the Montagues and the Capulets, and he didn't want her to get any comments on his account. "But for the record, it would be my pleasure to be seen with you."
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She eyed him quizzically at his bout of laughter, wondering what was so amusing about her being in Gryffindor. Ah, the whole, 'House Rivalry' thing. Somehow, I kind of figured he was a Slytherin. Just my luck... Slytherin cockiness knows no bounds.
"But for the record, it would be my pleasure to be seen with you." he said, making Aurora blink several times at him before gathering her wits.
"Well, you don't have to worry about me kicking you in the throat for being in Slytherin," she said simply. "House Rivalry is an absurdity, and those who fall into the idea of separation are the reason there can be no peace in the world. They develop superiority complexes and that sort of thinking causes war and disharmony." she said evenly, looking back out at the lawns in contemplation. "My friend happens to be a Slytherin," she added lightly with a slight shrug.
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His face remained amused until the words "kicking you in the throat" passed from her lips; at that point, his eyes widened a bit and he raised his eyebrows. Woah. It was definitely not what he had expected to hear out of this quiet and well-mannered girl... but there was something about that which the Slytherin in him enjoyed a bit too much.
And she used a lot of big words, he noted, impressed. Shy and brainy. The combo of temperaments was pretty much his polar opposite , which he found terribly endearing.
He smirked while she recounted her views on house rivalry- he disagreed, certainly, although he didn't think his house was inherently better for any reason, but he found rivalry maddeningly entertaining. Call it school spirit, team spirit, whatever- he availed himself of it. "Oh c'mon," he teased, "Are you gonna tell me you don't cheer for Gryffindor at Quidditch matches? What kind of fun is that?"
Huck was full of even the smallest kinds of team spirit- if he got placed on a team for a class assignment, even a group of two of three, he'd be fully thrown into a whirlwind of competitive spirit. His team was going to be the best, if he had anything to say about it. "And friends with a Slytherin, at that," he grinned. "Right, then, now you're gonna have to tell me who it is."
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Aurora's expression remained indifferent until Huxley started teasing her about House Spirit. She turned her head to look at him, wondering how to tell him she couldn't care less about House Spirit. The fact that she had never been to a Quidditch Match might set the boy off, and she didn't want to be a speculation. She felt like something Huxley was investigating; poking and prodding for more information, like she was a subject of interest.
"Well, I guess I'm not much fun, then." she said lightly, still stony-faced. Unless you want to dance in the rain barefoot, she thought to herself and fought to keep a smile at bay at the memory. The thought of dancing in the rain barefoot with Huxley crossed her mind, and she inwardly twinged. He'd probably cop a feel or like the proximity a bit too much, she reasoned and gave a sigh.
"Vulpes Connor," she said simply with a shrug and looked away again. "We met two weeks ago. A chance meeting, really. A little bit like this one, except you're looking at me like a subject in an art gallery."
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He laughed, rubbing a hand through his hair and shaking his head. "You are a peach, aren't you?" he asked, cocking his head. "Or maybe a crabapple. ....Joking! Only joking!" he waved his hands quickly. This was the type of discussion he often had with his sisters, but they usually were shooting things back at him and not just frowning.
"Vulpes Connor?" he repeated, genuinely surprised. "He's the, ah... the sort of off guy with the headphones?" He made pantomimes of headphones around his ears. "And the blue hair? I'm surprised he snapped out of his trance long enough to speak. I don't think I've heard him say more than three sentences, and I live with the guy. Odd bird, that one."
It was only then that the last sentence she said sunk in, and he grinned at her. "How dare you, ma'am," he said with mock offense. "I am first and foremost a gentleman."
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I'm a peach? Aurora furrowed her eyebrows at the comment, wondering what he meant by that. Crab-apple? What is that supposed to mean?
Aurora quirked her eyebrow as he talked about Vulpes. He is a bit odd, but he's my kind of odd. she thought idly with a soft smile, looking at Huxley curiously. I should talk to Vulpes about Huxley. I wonder what he's really like. she noted, but then mentally slapped herself for wanting to know more about Huxley. Since when do I care about what someone is like? I never talk about other people with other people, that's gossiping. What's wrong with me?
"How dare you, ma'am," he said with mock offense. "I am first and foremost a gentleman." Aurora shook the unwelcome thoughts away and turned her body towards him.
"Yes, you are. You offered me fruit and a place to sit, which is very polite." she agreed evenly, auburn eyes searching his light blue ones. "I'm an artist, so I know what it looks like to critique new works. I'm not saying you're being critical, of course. But you are watching me like you're wanting to know how I work, what makes me tick." she added with the same indifference. "Which is only natural, of course: I do the same thing. But Vulpes talked to me because he was genuinely concerned," she shrugged and rubbed her bare arms, looking out into the distance.
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Huck leaned forward quickly. "No way! You do art? I do art. ...I mean, sometimes, anyway," he added, actually a little self-conscious. "I'm not... very good at it, but... what kind of thing do you do?"
Like many teenagers, Huck was concerned with the not-actually-very-relevant concepts of "realness" and "fakeness", and her comment actually wounded his self-image. "Hey," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone that he rarely broke out. It was a little rusty. "What makes you think I'm not being genuine? I'm having fun here, aren't you? I mean, do you think I waste my time with people I don't wanna talk to? Because I don't."
In total bare honesty he wasn't sure why she didn't consider his company the privilege it was.
He wondered idly whether people thought his behavior was contrived. He certainly chose his words carefully and had a specific intention for each inflection in his voice, but he rarely set out on a mission to use and abuse people. It just seemed to turn out that way a good deal of the time.
"What makes Vulpes Connor more genuine than me?" he asked, his frustrating grin back in full force. "Is it the hair? Tell me if it's the hair. 'Cause I can do something about mine, if you want." He held up a short, stubby lock of his dirty blonde hair and motioned to it like a supermodel demonstrating what fabulous prize the contestant could win if the price was right.
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Aurora cocked her head at him curiously, wondering what kind of art he did. Looking at him, she couldn't really see him being an artist as well. This sort of thing rarely happened to Aurora: observing people and picking out what they were all about was one thing she was talented at. It made monitoring others intentions that much easier. Huxley was another matter--she realized--something not to be taken so lightly.
Am I having fun? she asked herself seriously as Huxley brought it up. Well, I'm not bored... she thought, wondering whether or not she stayed here to be polite or she was genuinely enjoying his company.
He asked what made Vulpes more genuine than him and started talking about his hair, which made Aurora want to laugh. Biting her bottom lip to keep the laughter at bay, she looked away and took several breaths. "I think your cockiness is going to get you into trouble one of these days," she said in amusement more to herself, a quirk of a smile forming at the corners of her mouth.
"Before I bumped into you, I was actually sketching something at my spot by the lake." she said lightly and cocked her head at him. "I didn't peg you for the artsy type." she said with glittering eyes of admiration.
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"Well it wouldn't be the first time. ...Or the last, I'm sure. It is my gift and my curse, I'm afraid. I'm a bit like Spiderman that way," he replied, leaning back again and pretending to be very impressed with himself- which he was, of course, but no one needed to know that. Her little smile was gratifying to him. He loved forcing people out of their comfort zones and out of their little shells. It's a talent that comes easily to two types of people- quirky, carpe diem, free spirit girls and handsome, cocky, sickeningly charming gits like Huck.
"Well let that teach you a lesson, then," he grinned. "I am impossible to be figured out. Like a cheap parlor trick. ...Er, scratch that," he shook his head. "Well, out with it. C'mon. Let's see it," he said, motioning to her sketchbook imploringly.
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Aurora fought to roll her eyes at his ever-growing cockiness. Just take the somewhat compliment, for Maker's sake. Aurora had never dealt with someone like Huxley before, and she hated to admit it, but he was starting to get on her nerves: which was a very difficult feat. Looking away, hoping to hide the increasingly-difficult-to-prevent scowl, a soft breeze ruffled her hair in every direction so that her lavender-scented shampoo wafted to her nose. She inhaled deeply, reveling in the familiarity of her mother's signature flower, relaxing her.
That was broken by Huxley's sudden request. Show my sketchbook? To him? she thought, surprised. Aurora never showed her art to anyone; not even Eric. She looked down and noticed her bag was gaping open, revealing her sketchbook and light brown buckle boots. Mentally kicking herself for not noticing before, she sighed and looked up at Huxley curiously. "I'm not really the type to show my work to anyone," she said, hoping to derail him from his motives.
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Huck smiled, more warmly than anything else, and shook his head with a twinkle in his eye. "No, me neither," he replied. "Not 'til it's finished, anyway. Nothing worse than the feeling of someone judging you on something half-finished."
He remembered with annoyance every instance of someone rubbernecking over his shoulder to watch what he was doing. With someone watching, every move he made seemed to be glaringly wrong and he was sure it was very obvious to everyone. If he could have, honestly, he would have built a secret cave to work in and only brought his pieces out when he was totally satisfied with them.
He felt bad for asking. "I'm sorry," he said, putting on his best apology face. "Can I buy your forgiveness with the best strawberry in the bag?"
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Aurora's mouth twitched at his admission. We have something in common, at least. she thought as a smile threatened to grace her lips. It always made her uneasy when Eric or other students would come up to her as she was sketching. She would always close it back up and wait for them to get bored and leave, or become ill at ease under her steady stare. Aurora half-smiled at his apology, looking away idly.
"Can I buy your forgiveness with the best strawberry in the bag?" he asked, making her look sideways at him as if to say You think I can be bought off by tangy fruit?.
Instead, she licked her lips lightly and sighed sadly. "You don't have to apologize, you didn't know." she said politely as her eyes glittered. "But I wouldn't say no to another strawberry," she said lightly with a quirk of a smile.
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"Well sure I did," he shrugged. "I mean... I should have known better. I wouldn't want people to ask me."
He squirmed a little. Being sincere was only easy for him with people he knew very well. As far as might-as-well-be-strangers and sincerity... well, needless to say, he wasn't a fan of it. Which would explain why, following a bizarre burst of honest sentiment, he would lapse harder back into his annoying self. "So why Gryffindor?" he asked, looking up mischievously. "You seem like more of a Ravenclaw to me... nose in a book, out alone on the lawn...? Aren't Gryffindors usually more... social?"
There were only two strawberries left; he picked out the dinky, greenish one and handed the last plump red one, still in the bag, to Aurora.
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Aurora watched him as he admitted the error of his ways in suspicion. He doesn't seem like the type to do that sort of thing to people he just met. she thought idly, but then sighed in disappointment when he reverted back to his old cockiness. What does he mean, 'Why Gryffindor'? she asked curiously.
"My nose isn't always in a book, it's always adjacent to my sketchbook." she corrected lightly, face remaining blank. "Yes, I am not a social person. But aren't the quiet ones always the ones to watch out for? You never know what's really going on with them; what they're planning, what they're capable of..." she trailed of mysteriously and smirked, grabbing the last strawberry. "I'll have you know that in the face of danger, I will not let hell or high water stop me from protecting those I love. I'll throw myself amidst a fire to keep them safe." she looked away and thought about Eric. "Isn't that what Gryffindor stands for?" she asked rhetorically and took a bite out of the strawberry.
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He folded his arms and squinted, grinning. She certainly wasn't what he had expected when he had goaded her into coming to join him; in fact, almost everything she said took him by surprise. And that was rare- Huck considered himself a pretty good judge of the human condition, and being thrown off track more than once by a person was unsettling for him. Unsettling in a kind of way that he found interesting, though.
"I guess so," he shrugged. "I don't really hang out with too many Gryffindors. It's a pleasant change of pace though, just so you know."
Huck pretended to be looking up at the sky, at the encroaching night, but he couldn't have cared less about the sky and thought it was dumb when people did, honestly. "So, what about Headphones McGee?" he asked with a little smirk. "Would you throw yourself on a fire to keep him safe?"
He actually was very interested in her response. In a flighty, heart-beating-faster-than-usual way.
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Aurora studied him momentarily, trying to see the person behind the facade. He truly was an interesting specimen for Aurora. There was something about him that she couldn't quite figure out, and it was starting to seep its way to the forefront of her mind. Why do I care? she wondered nervously, biting her bottom lip.
Aurora snorted at the term: "Headphones McGee" but looked at Huxley thoughtfully when he asked her if she'd throw herself in a fire for him. She smiled lightly and nodded. "Yes, yes I would." she said softly. "He's my first and only friend," she said, shrugging. "And he's amazing." she added, looking up at the sky like Huxley had. The sky really was so beautiful, she noted. More beautiful than usual, for some reason. She leaned back against the stone wall comfortably and couldn't help a soft smile from gracing her lips.
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"Wait a minute," he said, putting one hand over his heart. "Does that mean I'm not your friend?" he asked, his voice teasing. "You've just been using me for my dazzling conversational skills and my health-conscious snacks, haven't you?"
He kept a mental checklist of things to do, and updated it then with the pretext of taking an extra-long chug from his water bottle.
Number eleven: Hunt down Headphones McGee. Take his headphones, and beat his face with them.
The first ten mostly had to do with doing his laundry, getting a haircut, and getting his summer plans finalized with friends. It was an unexpectedly dark turn for his little list to take, certainly.
He finished his sip with a totally unchanged expression, looked at the bottle, and then back to Aurora. "Thirsty?" he held it up. "I never backwash. I promise." He winked.
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Aurora looked at him in the corners of her eyes and pursed her lips lightly. A string of unusual retorts came to mind, but she didn't want to humour him. Instead, she finished the rest of the strawberry and licked her lips in satisfaction. "I came over to be polite. I ate the strawberries because they're tasty... and to be polite." she said simply and looked at the offering of bottled water.
I -am- kind of thirsty, she thought idly, but then thought better of it. "No thank you," she said softly and looked back up at the sky.
"I think you'd like... Headphones McGee," she said lightly with a smirk. "Eventually," she added and smacked her lips together. "As for being your friend," she started a little more seriously, "I don't know if you'd be up to it."
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"Suit yourself, darling," he shrugged, taking another long sip of water. "Sorry. I know this makes me look like a hamster," he laughed a little. It was actually a fairly big social phobia of his. In tilting any beverage up, he was terribly paranoid that everyone would think he looked like a hamster sucking at a hanging water bottle on the side of its cage. Even thinking his hardest, Huck couldn't remember when or why this had started. And despite the fact that no one had ever brought it up to him (and the rational part of his brain thought that no one had ever in fact thought that) he refused to tilt any drink past an angle of about thirty degrees. If the rest of the drink was impossible to access, so be it.
Huck cocked an eyebrow at her. "Me? And the amazing technicolor hairpiece?" He looked away from her, laughing a bit and shaking his head. "Ohhhh God, what you don't know could fill a book," he said not unkindly. "Look, I don't have an issue with the guy. But he's not exactly... my type?"
"I'm not up to it?" he asked in half-feigned half-real shock. "Up to what? I dunno if you know this but you are talking to a gent who can run a 5k in seventeen minutes. I'm pretty sure I can handle friendship and magic and all that My Little Pony rubbish."
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Aurora tried so hard the past few minutes not to laugh, but this really pushed her over the edge. Mentioning looking like a hamster, calling Vulpes the 'amazing technicolor hairpiece' and him saying he's not his type had her pursing her lips together as if water was about to pour out. She tried calming herself to keep the humour in it all insignificant, but as soon as the 'My Little Pony' part came up, Aurora burst out laughing like she only did with Vulpes or Eric.
She didn't hide her face like most girls did as they laughed, or hunch over. Instead, she leaned her head back and let all the laughs out, unashamed. Nothing coherent ran through her mind at that point; because she was so wrapped up in the humour, it didn't matter. She didn't care that she broke her composure with Huxley or that she was making a spectacle of herself. Tears started forming and Aurora's laughter finally died down. After a moment of calming down, she looked at him: eyes alive like never before, and a permanent smile etched across her face.
"Trust me, Huxley, there are things you don't know that could fill a book." she said breathlessly and shook her head. "Friendship isn't something that ever came easy to me, and it's a big deal. I don't want to call just anyone a friend. Vulpes's my friend because he helped me out, unconditionally, even though I didn't ask for it. There was no ulterior motives or joking around. I could tell he was sincere. With you, I don't understand. I'm usually good at knowing others intentions, but you're like... I don't know," she trailed off and looked away, mood turning serious.
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Huck flinched a little when she burst out laughing- that was the most unexpected moment of the evening, probably. He was used to people laughing at him- or with him, whatever- but it was usually mild-to-moderate laughs that were evenly spaced out throughout his theatrics. A series of pursed lips followed by a sudden outburst seemed slightly psychotic. Endearing, yes, but psychotic.
He laughed, but mostly because he was laughing at her laughing. Politely (which was tough for him), he listened dutifully to her entire speech on friendship, and then held his hands out imploringly. "No, no!" he groaned comically. "Not serious face again! C'mon, what happened to fun face? Where did she go?"
Intentions? In honesty, Huck figured that his intentions were usually less-than-admirable. He wasn't sure about this particular instance. His actions in calling her over were purely to entertain himself, and picking away at shy kids was generally just a fun hobby for him.
"Every guy's got intentions, Aurora," he rolled his eyes a little and clicked his tongue. "It might not seem like it, but they all do."
-
Aurora looked at him and sighed in frustration. "Vulpes and I are just friends, okay?" she said, a little annoyed. "He only sees me as a friend, he only wants to be my friend, that's it. His intentions are just to be my friend, but nothing more. It is possible for a guy to be friends with a girl and not have those types of... feelings for them."
Abruptly, she stood up and started unrolling her jeans. "Fun face is rare with me, alright? You just happened to be in the cross-fire." she said evenly and began putting her buckle boots back on. "I'm pretty much all serious face, all the time, and that's why I don't think you can keep up with being my friend. Whatever your intentions are, I'm not going to pretend to be something I can never be just to keep someone around." she finished the last buckle of her boots and was about to pick up her bag.
-
"Woah, woah, woah," he said quickly, sliding a bit closer. "Let's just cool our jets here a minute."
He bit his lip, trying to churn out a sentence that sounded acceptable to him. He believed what he said. He did. But what he considered to be the truth wasn't worth making a girl upset right at the end of the school year. "Look, I'm sorry," he said. That much was true. He tried to formulate his next sentence with as much of the truth as he could fit in. It was the same thing he said to his sisters. It was the same reason he picked the suitors of his sisters up by their collars and let them know in no uncertain terms what he would do to them if their aims weren't perfectly above-board. "I just... think you should be... aware."
That sounded condescending. "I mean... not..." he rubbed his face quickly and then held his hands out in defeat. "Look, I'll admit I don't know whatsisface very well. I don't. But I do know a great deal of guys, and my experience pretty much all points that way."
-
Aurora's hand gripped around the strap but paused. She slowly let go and stood up straight, staring at him with crossed arms. "You're holding back what you really want to say, Huxley," she said evenly. "I'm not naive, I know what guys are like. I'm a good reader of characters, and I trust Vulpes's intentions are pure." she said softly and took a deep sigh. "But with you, I get nothing substantial, nothing to go by. That sort of thing never happened to me before, so you can imagine how uneasy I've been." she admitted. It's like he's speaking a different language,
She closed her eyes for a moment before taking a leap. "Which brings me to my next question. What are your intentions with me?" she asked seriously, watching him curiously. "And be honest, because I've been lied to basically my whole life, and I'm sick of it."
-
Huck had weaseled out of worse situations. It was a simple truth of his character that he liked to rile people up. To him, it was funny to see people flustered and out of sorts. And as a result of this dubious pasttime, he often had to smooth things over in order to ensure his life remained fairly hassle-free thereafter. He knit his brows together and stood up to use his height to his advantage. People seemed to take his more seriously when he was at his full imposing stature. "Substantial?" he repeated, cocking an eyebrow. "I'm not sure what you're expecting out of me, seeing as we just met, but I'm being myself."
He also wasn't sure why people seemed to assume that just because a guy is fast-talking and charming he would necessarily be up to no good. ...He often was up to no good, but he hated being accused of it when he wasn't. And even when he was out to achieve less-than-admirable things, he rarely ever lied to do it. In his experience, he could say exactly what he wanted in the right tone and with the right mannerisms and people would fall all over themselves to help him.
He decided to level with her. "Bible truth," he began, holding his hands up as a sign of surrender, "I was starting to get bored, you wandered by, and I thought it would be entertaining for a while." That was the truth. ...Well, most of the truth. He decided to leave out the part about how he thought she looked cute wandering around like a daft little faun out on the lawn. A minor detail. "And for that matter, what are your intentions? You're so jumpy I thought you were keeping an eye out for the sniper you hired to kill me," he joked with a little grin.
-
Aurora wasn't intimidated by his height, in fact, she thought it amusing. "To clarify, I wasn't insinuating you weren't being yourself. I meant that you're hard to read." she said lowly, narrowing her eyes at him. "My intentions were clear from the beginning. I didn't come over because I thought you were cute or anything, I was being polite." She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder.
"I was being jumpy because, one: I've only ever talked to Vulpes, so I'm still uncomfortable with the concept of socializing. Two: I was uneasy that I couldn't figure you out, not because you were being what you think is charming. And three: these past two weeks have taken me through a whirlwind that has way more to do with having a friend for the first time."
"By the way, if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't need a sniper to finish the job. I know dozens of ways of how to kill a man with my thumb." She was completely serious by that point. "Now, I think I have stayed long enough for you to be entertained. Thank you for the strawberries, good night." she finished lowly and started off toward the lawns.
-
Huck grabbed his things hurriedly and started off after her, though in his mind he had no idea why. "Aurora!" he called, his tone a little angry. His instinct was to grab her shoulder, but after what she had just said to him he thought better of it. A broken collarbone would really put a damper on his end-of-year fun.
"Hey!" he ran up beside her. "I really think you're taking me out of context, y'know," he offered, attempting to reposition his broom under his arm while slinging his bag over one shoulder. "I'm not trying to be a prick here, okay?"
He huffed and rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean entertaining like you were some sideshow to me, alright? I like you! You're fun! ...Or you would be, if you'd cool it a little bit!"
"If you'd just put yourself out there, people would like you. I promise," he said, grudgingly sincere.
-
Aurora stopped abruptly as various things ran through her head. He wants fun? I'll show him fun. She turned to him suddenly with fire in her eyes. "Follow me," she said lowly and turned on the spot, making her way out towards the lawns. She had never done something on a whim; she was never a reckless person, but something about Huxley made her want to do just that. It was a complicated rush of feelings she didn't understand, and she didn't want to evaluate them, for fear of finding out the truth.
She led him to her favourite spot by the lake and dropped her bag to the side. Ignoring the rapid heartbeat threatening to burst out of her chest, she whipped her wand out of her left boot and conjured a nearby rock into a magical stereo. She then kicked off her boots, but kept her jeans rolled down as they were, and turned to face Huxley. "I hope you know how to dance," she said lightly and the music started. The music was that of Latin-alternative: there were no words. It started off at a simple rhythm, something a beginner should keep up with, assuming Huxley didn't know how to dance. She tossed her wand to the side and held her hand out expectantly for him to take it.
-
Huck grit his teeth and pursed his lips. My kryptonite, he groaned inwardly. For all of his devil-may-care attitude he was entirely plagued by self consciousness, and especially about dancing. "I'm not... really..." he stuttered, looking around in wild desperation. "...Dressed for it," he finished, indicating his overall filthiness. "At all. Do you really want to dance with someone who looks like they just crawled arse-first out of a construction site?"
He thought about it for a few more torturous moments, and put his hand in hers. "I swear to God, do not tell a damned soul about this," he hissed.
-
Aurora smirked and pulled him closer as his hand fell in hers. "You wanted the fun side of me, here she is. Just try not to step on my feet and go with the beat. We're going to start off at a simple salsa, okay?" she explained lightly, feeling a small smile quirk in the corners of her lips. She grabbed his other hand and with both their clasped hands, linked her fingers between his so that they could maneuver easily.
"Ready? When I count to three, you step forward with your right foot, and I'll step back with my left. Then, after a beat, just bring your right foot back into place, and step back with your left. Simple, yeah? Don't be afraid to put a little hip in it, too." she added with a wink and mentally waited for the right timing to start counting.
"One, two, three," she said, and stepped back with her left with him following with his right. So far, so good. she thought as they went back to phase one after the beat. She was pleasantly surprised he followed her guidance easily enough; doing the salsa together without stepping on her feet. Although he was a little stiff at the beginning, he soon got the rhythm down pat and was starting to get into it. The look on his face made her smile as he realized he finally got it.
-
Dancing, Huck made a strange noise that was half laugh and half groan. "My God. You've managed to turn me into a total dork," he lamented, though his face was contorted into a grin. It was also beet red, but he wasn't sure whether it was simply his proximity to a girl, or whether he was really that embarrassed. He was a fairly coordinated guy so the actual steps seemed to be less of a challenge than he was expecting. "My worst fears realized. It's contagious. I've contracted the dork virus."
In fairness, he was trying. His feet were moving. But his mind was riveted to- and terrified by- the fact that he was dancing... an activity that his sisters were fond of but that he found... asinine wasn't the right word, but he imagined that if he could see himself now he'd have a few well-placed comments to make.
At his core, his pure Huxley-ness, he could feel himself turning into a scared dog backed into a corner. He was jittery and flighty and he couldn't understand why being close to a cute, funny girl would make him want to run but it did.
"So," he blurted out, his eyes darting. "Headphones McGee. He into this sort of thing? Because let me tell you, that would not surprise me."
-
Aurora chuckled. It's so cute the way he says he's a dork for doing this. Usually hes such a cocky and self-assured guy. This new unsure and slightly shy side of him is refreshing. she thought with a smile and informed him she'd be increasing the tempo. The music changed with their speed, and soon, they were comfortably doing the salsa with more girth. She rolled her eyes when he asked if Vulpes was into this sort of thing.
"He's the one who taught me to waltz just two weeks ago. Before that, I had never danced. What he or anyone else doesn't know, is that ever since then, I've been practicing on my own in the Room of Requirement. All sorts of styles, too. I can do everything from swing to hip-hop to ballroom dancing." she said lightly.
"Now that you've got this down, let's switch it up a bit. I've been leading, but since you're the guy, you're going to spin me at the break in the song, I'll count it off. Just let go of my left hand and I'll twirl into you, where you will grab my other hand and let go of my right one, then spin me out, back in, and we'll change hands again. Simple." she said with a cheeky smile.
-
Huck stopped moving, and let go of her hands rather suddenly. "This isn't very... I mean, c'mon," he laughed, scratching his head. "What do I look like to you? Fred Astaire?" he motioned up and down his body, giving her a pointed look. "If you've mistaken me for a certain variety of headphones-wearing poofter, I'm gonna have to disappoint you," he commented.
Oof. Even he was off-put by his last words. He had nothing against the kid. He found him an amiable sort. But the fact of the matter was, Huck knew the guy was weird. Huck thought so, and so did most everyone else.
And the primal, unavoidable terror he felt at being anywhere near similar to the boy drove him up the wall. His mind was racing and the thoughts therein were blurry and panicked like in a really annoying dream.
Which is probably why his next comment bubbled to the surface:
"Getting late, isn't it? Won't the friends you don't have be worried about where you are?"
Ohhhhh ffffuuuuu-
-
Aurora stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to say anything. True, she had never really cared about her lack of friends, in fact, at one point, she prided herself in her solitary and antisocial nature. Now, however, for the first time, she felt bad for having no friends. It was like a punch in the gut, this realization. Here she was, with a guy she just met; for some God-awful reason: dancing with him; when he threw a bomb like that, and she stood there like a child being scolded by an authority figure.
She knew she shouldn't care what he said to her: as per usual insults would roll off her back in amusement. Huxley wasn't worth her breath, or anything else for that matter, especially tears. This, however tore into her like multiple shurikens, and stung as if thrown in a lake of lemon juice.
"You wanted my fun side, and that was her. You can take it or leave it." she nearly choked out, clenching her fists and squeezing her eyes shut. "Don't you dare think you're anything like Vulpes." she added in almost a growl, snapping open her eyes. "You say you'd be pleased to be seen with me, but you don't even know what that means. I'm considered weird, if you haven't heard. Vulpes was the only one who ever looked past that facade and had the guts to actually get to know me." her voice grew dark and almost menacing at that point. She had never felt so strong emotions since her mother died. It was overwhelming, and for the first time, she couldn't keep it at bay.
"You are nothing like him. I knew that when I met you, Huxley, but that didn't stop me from giving you a chance. It looks like it was a wasted effort," she finished and the conjured stereo stopped playing music.
-
Huxley felt incredibly guilty, but at the same time, guilt was something he could sort out. The crazy bee-swarm of feelings he'd felt earlier was horrible, and as bad as he felt then he knew he preferred the guilt. "I know I'm nothing like him," he said lightly, picking up his stuff as coolly as he could. "I'm Huxley Scout bloody Ward and the sooner you figure out that not everybody's a soppy dancing git with rainbow eyebrows- or whatever- we'll all be the better for it."
Huck had never tried to engage his friends in his own interests. Likewise, none of them had ever dragged him into theirs. He did his intricate woodcarvings and printmaking and metalcrafting very unassumingly. The friends he met in art club were friends he'd discuss art with. His quidditch friends were the only ones he really felt a need to talk sports with. And there was an even more reserved pool of people with whom he'd talk about his actual life outside Hogwarts.
To him, the idea of grabbing one of his jock buddies and dragging him off to a pottery class made him cringe. As fun as he found it, the possibility of judgment was too high. It was a different story if one of them happened to spot a work he'd done; he could shrug and reply that it was a little hobby he'd picked up. But were anyone to discover his childish enthusiasm-
Well, needless to say, he found the idea repulsive. The fact that Aurora didn't- at least, not before- made him feel bad for her.
His friendships mostly consisted of joking around. He and his friends were hard on each other and had grown the thick skins necessary to make venomous jokes without taking them to heart. Had he made a similar comment to one of his friends, they'd likely tell him to sod off and give him a light punch.
"No, Aurora, I hadn't heard you were considered weird. Because I've never heard anything about you, good or bad. I'd rather people think I'm a prick than not know my name," he shot back, his hand gripped so tight on the broomstick now he had developed white knuckles. "And I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. I really am. But the fact that you dragged me into a friggin' ballet means that you didn't bother to find out who I am, either. Because I bleedin' hate that stuff."
He relaxed his grip on the broom and took a quick, deep breath through his nose. "If your basis for comparison on whether or not you get to know someone is whether they seem like Vulpes Connor you're gonna be severely disappointed, love."
-
"Þessi drengur er svo pirrandi![1]" she spat and threw her arms up, her frustration reaching a new high.
"Will you stop bringing up Vulpes bloody Connor, for Maker's sake? This has nothing to do with him!" she exasperated, moving her arms frantically. "Why do you think I even brought you to this place--this place that's kept me relatively sane for the past six years--and let myself share something with you that I haven't even told my only and best friend about?" she motioned around her hastily. "It's not because I was bored and wanted a good story to tell all my friends about." she added harshly.
"Deny all you want, but I saw the look on your face. You were having fun. You're just disgusted that you did something that you always hated but actually enjoyed for one moment of your life. Kind of like how I felt the entire time up till now when you called me over. Except I'm not ashamed or afraid of that realization. Not anymore." she said a little softer and gathered her boots and wand. She plopped down on the grass and took a deep sigh before pulling them back on for the third time that day. It was now completely dark, except for the glow of the moon hanging overhead; creating a somewhat romantic ambiance.
"Af hverju fæ ég nenna jafnvel með honum?[2]" she said more to herself and buckled the last of her boots. She re-conjured the stereo back into the rock and slipped her wand in her boot. Something kept her there, but she didn't know what. For all that's happened, it would be normal to want to leave.
-
Huck rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh, come on, Aurora. Come off it. Not everything needs to be a big deal. That's what I'm saying. Why do you have to treat every little thing like it's some huge.. event?? You're sixteen. Do you realize that everything we're doing right now is pretty much meaningless?"
He ran a hand through his hair and took another hard breath through his nose. "You're going to wake up in a cold sweat like ten years from now and realized that you wasted the best years of your life with a big dramatic stick up your arse. Give it a rest."
He had never, in all his years, met anyone who had taken themselves so seriously. Whose idea of being laid back was salsa dancing. Dear God. Of all the white bread things to consider a relaxing pasttime, that had to be the most wonderbread one of them all. The thought made him shudder. If he had seen anyone in his hometown dancing like that he seriously doubted he'd ever let them live it down.
-
Aurora contemplated his words a long moment before realized he was right. Aurora made everything into something more important than it really was. She had a feeling she knew where it had started, and she dreaded the thought.
Aurora sighed loudly. "I know." she admitted softly. "It's probably the thing I despise most about myself." she groaned and dropped her head in her arms. "I'm sorry," she said, more to herself. "I've tried, I really have. There's just... something that holds me back. Something that's held me back for the past eight years." she looked up at him sadly.
"Do you read the Daily Prophet?" she asked suddenly. "There's an article in there dated back last month sometime. The 18th, I believe. If you're interested, check it out, and maybe you'll understand where I come from." she finished solemnly and stood up with her bag in her hand. "If you're not interested, then have a good life," she added and slung her bag over her shoulder, about to move.
-
His face relaxed as she agreed with him. He felt bad that she seemed to be so upset about how rigid and structured she was, but at the same time he felt a surge of cocky pride that he had been vindicated in his beliefs. Holding up his hands, Huck's tone changed to a much more friendly one. "Well, Lord, Aurora, if you've been doing this for eight years you must be exhausted. I know I would be."
The newspaper article was clearly very important to her, but Huck had so little interest in the news that just looking at newsprint threw him into fits of narcolepsy. And there was no sense in lying to her about it, as he was sure he'd be quizzed on it immediately. "Never touched one," he said honestly. "I don't read the news."
What he didn't say- and it was very much a conscious decision to not say it- was that the curious side of him had kicked in. He added to his mental to-do list-
Number Twelve: Find that Prophet article.
-
Aurora nodded despondently and stepped to the side. "Since you so delicately pointed out, it's late, and I'm a little cold. So, goodnight." she said evenly and started walking past him with several emotions and thoughts buzzing about. She had a sinking feeling he wouldn't care to read the article, and a part in her was relieved, but a newer, ever-growing part of her felt rather sad.
Though she didn't know why.
[THE END of their first meeting]
Aurora's Outfit (http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=36545315)