"I've only seen one from far away. I think. I suppose it could have just been a wild horse, but I could have -sworn- I saw the horn. It was just last summer. I had gone camping in the woods with my family and I went out to explore a bit. I wandered a good distance from the campsite and heard something ahead of me. I was a little scared. It could have been a bear or a wolf of anything! Then it came walking by. It was white as pure snow and it's mane was so beautiful it almost didn't look real. I didn't want to move and scare it, but I accidentally broke a twig. It looked in my direction and that was when I saw it's face. It took off running just a few seconds later."

She looked back at the drawings. That summer had been a real adventure for her and they had seen many things that trip. A few magical creatures were actually in the woods and she was able to show them to her family. She loved animals and seeing them in the wild was perfect and awe inspiring to her. She swore it was a unicorn she saw. Nothing else could compare to the way it looked!

"Unfortunately, when I told my mom she brushed it off. She said that if unicorns were as rare as I told her they are there was no way there was one in those woods. I swear it was though! I just didn't see it long enough or close enough to tell. I like to think I did though."

She smiled thinking about the "unicorn" she saw.

"Do you keep any other animals where you live? Or just different breeds of horses?" Rayven smiled as she asked.

“Oh my gosh, you are so lucky!” Annie gushed enthusiastically, her eyes wide and her grin immense. It was like the stiff and neurotic Annie from earlier had finally come to life. “I bet it was really a unicorn! Horses aren't usually wild in the woods, unless – well, I don't know where you were... maybe it wandered from nearby or someone left it there - but unicorns live in forests, so I bet you really saw one!” Her entire face was alight with excitement, as though she'd been there when Rayven had spotted the creature. “I really don't think a horse that pretty would be wandering.” People were drawn to white horses, probably because, as the Hufflepuff has said, they could be mistaken for unicorns. The majestic creatures were so highly revered that even a cheap imitation was good enough for most people. “Unicorns aren't native to the woods where I live, but I always look for them anyway. We have a lot of property for, um, you know, trails and things, so we're surrounded by a couple of miles of forest. I think it's too cold for them, maybe.”

”Do you keep any other animals where you live? Or just different breeds of horses?”

“Well, we're known for the horses, mostly,” she explained, “We have tons of horses. Well, we own some and we board some - But we have, well, it's sort of a petting zoo? It's just for fun, really. That's where Lexie stays, and we also have this alpaca – like, a llama, kind of – and his name is Henry. Oh, and goats, and our little donkey... and there's always a few cats, but they aren't ours. They aren't really anybody's, I don't think. They just go where they like.” Basically, you couldn't walk ten feet without tripping over something four legged or furry.

“I really want to get a camel next, but I don't know if my dad will let me.” Visitors liked the animals, but they weren't really for anything besides spectacle. Hippogriff's Crossing wasn't actually a working farm. Every time they acquired a new furry charge it just became another bit of work for somebody. They were well loved, though, and Annie always thought that was a good enough reason to keep any creature around. Unfortunately, her father didn't think quite the same way.

“Do you think you're going to work with animals one day?” Annie asked Rayven, wondering if she might have similar aspirations. There were plenty of jobs to be found working with or on behalf of various creatures, if one had an affinity. Annie liked to think all 'animal people' were nice, and so far Rayven had proven herself to be just about as nice as you could possibly get.

Rayven listened intently as Annie told her about all the animals. Where Rayven lived they weren't allowed to have animals like that. A dog or a cat was fine. Even a parrot or hamster or something small was fine. A horse or alpaca or anything larger than a border collie would never be allowed. The yard wasn't big enough and they lived too close to other people. Rayven's family did live in a commune after all.

"That sounds so amazing! I would love to have a petting zoo! I would spend so much time outside with the animals. I love horseback riding too. It's hard to find somewhere though. I prefer to ride bare back and most ranches and such require you to use a saddle." Rayven shrugged.

“Do you think you're going to work with animals one day?”

"I'm really not sure. I haven't thought too much about what I want to do when I leave Hogwarts. I've considered it, but I've also thought about being a teacher here at the school or being a mentor. Working with animals -does- sound like a lot of fun though. Are -you- going to?"

Rayven was enjoying talking to Annie and she was glad she had found a topic that seemed to cheer her up. She seemed to have forgotten about what was bothering her in the first place. Hopefully Annie was going to be a new friend and Rayven could help her feel happy and comfortable at Hogwarts.

“Well, it's a lot more comfortable to use a saddle, for the rider and for the horse. It distributes your weight better, which is, um, well, it's important because, if you think about it, you're sitting on an animal's back,” Annie explained when Rayven mentioned she preferred riding bareback. She could only speak on behalf of her family's business – they definitely didn't let anybody on their horses without tack. “And it's extra important for winged horses, because if you're on the trail... or anywhere, really... and your horse gets spooked, you might end up getting thrown from a lot higher than the withers – trust me. So the harness is important, especially on non-aerial trails. If people got hurt they probably wouldn't come back and, well... we sort of need them to come back, because that's the whole point,” she smiled, shrugging her shoulders. Even with custom saddles and an aerial harness she'd been thrown before, and she wasn't the sort of girl who was hungry enough for danger to ever take a horse out without tacking up. The danger wouldn't even come from the horse – it would come from someone finding out and scolding her until she melted into a useless puddle of guilt. If what happened when she forgot her helmet was any indication, she didn't want to try anything riskier.

“Um,” she went on, once the subject changed to careers again. “Well, I know that once you become an illustrator, you can find ways to work with animals anyway. Like, I could do Magizoological Illustration, where you can do drawings for, um, books, or textbooks, or to support published research – but that's a lot of diagrams and anatomy, so a lot of the animals might be dead, so that's not so... that's not the best,” she laughed nervously, clearly less than thrilled by the prospect. Usually when someone said they wanted to do work with animals, they didn't mean animal corpses and Annie was no exception – she preferred her cuddly creatures alive whenever possible. She supposed a long and tenuous career spent illustrating muscle fibers wasn't out of the question, but it wasn't quite what she had in mind. “I think I'd like being a veterinary healer just as much, but I'm just not sure.” If her father didn't like her aspirations, it was unlikely he was going to fund further education. That was already a concern when it came to art school, but she tried not to think about it. She had to survive this school year first.

“I could never be a teacher,” she explained earnestly, looking spooked by the very idea. “Talking in front of people is so hard. I'm so bad at presentations. I don't think I could ever teach a whole class. I would die.” For the sake of generations of students and the collective fate of the wizarding world, she'd stick with her animals and her charcoal, thank you very much. It would be better for everyone that way.

Rayven thought a moment. Giving presentations was certainly intimidating at times. She had been nervous her first few times. It wasn't until her fourth year when she finally got use to it and put her fear aside. If she was happy with her presentation, then forget what everyone else thought. She had heard before to imagine your audience in  their knickers. She didn't think that would be an appropriate thing to tell Annie. The poor girl would probably imagine herself in her knickers instead. Either that or she would think that everyone was imagining her in her knickers and become more nervous than she already was. After a few thoughts, Rayven had it.

"Giving presentations can be really scary. I use to be afraid of doing them too. You know something that may help though? Pretend they're all animals! I mean, technically we're all animals right? We can just use cognitive reasoning. If they're animals, they'll listen to you and you won't have to worry about them. Pretend you're reading to a whole room of winged horses!"

Rayven laughed. The thought of reading to a room full or horses greatly amused her. For some reason, she thought Annie had probably really done this though. Reading to the horses in the stables didn't seem too far fetched. Some people read to plants. Why not read to a horse?

"Not only that, but what you're presenting is for -you-. As long as -you're- happy with it, forget what other people think. It's not your job to impress them. It's your job to make -you- happy and to feel like you're really accomplished something." 

Annie laughed at Rayven's suggestion, picturing herself standing in the stables trying to give a presentation on potion properties to the horses. It just seemed... well, kind of ridiculous, to be honest, but not nearly as stressful as picturing a room full of her peers gaping at her boredly while she stammered on and on. It wasn't that she was all that terrified of her classmates' opinions on the subject matter she was presenting – she knew nobody really cared about anyone else's oral presentations unless the information being imparted was going to be on a quiz or exam... and even then half the class was likely to be dozing off at any one time. She just hated the feeling of having one shot to be perfect at something that she found particularly challenging. Anyone who'd ever had a conversation with Annie knew that she wasn't the most eloquent speaker, especially when she was anxious, nervous, or talking about something she was unsure about – which was a lot of the time. She just liked feeling prepared, and no matter how much she fussed over her presentation before giving it, it still felt far too extemporaneous for her. She didn't trust her own voice.

”Not only that, but what you're presenting is for -you-. As long as -you're- happy with it, forget what other people think. It's not your job to impress them. It's your job to make -you- happy and to feel like you're really accomplished something.”

“Maybe this is weird, but I really don't like listening to myself talk,” she admitted sheepishly, thinking back to the presentations she'd given in the past. “I just feel like... I feel like...” she started, trying to put the feeling into words, “Like I don't sound like I know what I'm talking about, even when I do? And then I feel like I have to say more to make up for it? And then I just talk and talk and I stop making sense because I just want to squeeze things in?” she explained, shaking her head at her own dilemma. She'd always felt like she was on trial by fire, not just doing a school project. It felt important, because after doing the research, rehearsing in the mirror, and compiling the materials, the idea of slipping up because of nerves just seemed unfair. “And this is maybe strange, but when I'm done, I always forget what I said. As soon as I sit down it's like I never went. And I can't ever tell how much time has passed, either!” Going over time was a major problem for her, too. “I would always pick a paper over a presentation.”

"You could write out what you plan to say to make it easier", Rayven shrugged. "I've done that before. I was doing a presentation in my Runes class my 4th year. I didn't think I could do it. I was so nervous it wasn't even funny. I just knew I was going to mess it up."

Rayven remembered that class all too well. Divination was -not- her strong suit. She was unsure of the whole thing and was terrified her professor would think she was a failure at the entire thing. Sure she passed the class, but it was one of the more difficult classes she had taken.

"I practiced doing my presentation in the mirror but was never really happy with it. Sometimes when I did it, I ran over my time. Sometimes I felt like it was way too short. I figured out what to do though. I wrote it all down. I started off making a list of what I needed to have in the presentation and wrote a few paragraphs on each part. Then I went through and made my edits to keep in the most important things and leave the rest out. Just to be sure I didn't mess up too bad, I wrote it all out on note cards and used them as references during it. That may help you out. You like order and like your note cards. Maybe you could give that a shot next time", Rayven said smiling.

“Oh, I do!” Annie insisted brightly, nodding her head rapidly a few good times. “I have cards for everything! I just love them so much!” she gushed, as though she were talking about a basket of adorable kittens and not a very inanimate pile of very uninteresting note cards. “But I never take them up with me, because if I did I'd just read off of them the whole time and I'd probably get into trouble. But what I did was I make outlines? And I just keep the outline with me, so I know I won't miss anything. It's, um... it works okay! It's not the worst. I still don't like presentations, though.” No matter how prepared she was, Annie was the type of girl who would psych herself out. She'd been known, on occasion, to stammer when someone asked her name. “I'm just so glad we don't have any more presentations before Christmas,” she said, her shoulders appearing to relax with sheer relief. The less pressure she had on her, the better.

“It's going to be very strange, though,” she admitted, running one index finger over the page where her horses were frozen in their stately positions, manes to the wind. “I've never been away from home for Christmas before.” She glanced down at the page, something like longing in her eyes. Being trapped in this cavernous castle with almost nobody in it was going to seem a bit like a punishment. Her home was large, but at least she was welcome to all of it – it was, after all, her home. It seemed so far away sometimes. When she thought about it too much her chest started to feel tight, making her feel even more trapped than she was in reality. She shut the book folding her hands on top of the pale cover. “I think it'll go by fast, though. Christmas always does.”

"It may not be too terribly bad. I've heard you get a -little- more freedom around the place. I'm sure your family will send some gifts or something to you at least. I'm sorry you're going to be here alone though."

Rayven felt bad for Annie having to spend the holiday alone. She knew there was nothing she could really say to make the situation any better. It got Rayven thinking about the Christmas she was going to have this year. It was going to be the last one she was going to spend with her whole family. Her brother and sister were leaving the next semester to go study in the states. It was going to cost so much for them to go study that they weren't going to be able to come back home until they were completely done. She was going to miss them terribly, but would still be able to go see her parents. She knew it wouldn't be the same without her siblings though.

Her Christmas seemed so trivial right now though. She didn't have to worry about it until next year and she was still going to be able to go home. Annie wasn't going to have that luxury this year. She sat a few moments trying to think of something to say to make things better.

"You won't be completely alone here. A lot more people stay here through the holiday than you think. Maybe you will be able to find something to do to keep you occupied. Maybe talk to Hagrid and see if you could maybe help with anything. I bet that would keep you occupied and happy."

Rayven knew what she said probably had no comfort but it was worth a shot. She smiled a bit, trying to help and hoping she did at least a little. If not, she hopefully gave Annie an idea at least.

“Oh, I'll have things to do. I'm not worried about that at all,” Annie explained with what sounded like an almost sardonic chuckle. Though unintentional, her tone and the accompanying dark laugh made it seem like she had some wholly evil deed to complete over the school break. She pursed her lips together and released a shallow sigh through her nostrils. “I don't think we'll have that much homework, but, um, I have a lot more practice to take care of. It'll be... it'll be really good. Once I get the busywork taken care of I'll have huge blocks of time to run drills.” Believe it or not, the promise of that much unattributed time for work was comforting for Annie, not daunting. There was never, ever enough time in the day – granted, this little bit of dead time was intended as a mental health break, not downtime.... or, that's how she had chosen to justify it, anyway. Christmas break would be different. If she'd gone home, the rules governing underage wizardry would have prevented her from accomplishing anything, but as long as she was here then she'd put herself to work and she wouldn't waste a minute. She still felt longing for home, but it was just longing – nothing serious.

“I don't know why I'm not doing work now, actually,” Annie muttered, sitting up straighter on the bench and glancing over at the untouched pencils she'd had to herd earlier, sitting cold in their tin container. She hadn't done any drawing at all since she'd been sitting here. “I know it's Saturday, but...” she trailed off. Rayven had distracted her so thoroughly she'd forgotten to rush around distracting herself. It was... kind of nice, actually. It was a luxury she missed out on when the friends who were normally willing to distract her were living on another continent entirely. Every so often she needed someone to forcibly remove her from the practice room (or the common are, or the library, or wherever she happened to be agonizing over schoolwork) and force her to do something unnecessary, or at the very least unproductive. She owed much of her remaining sanity to those people, as rare and fragile as it was.

“I think I'd like to practice wandwork for at least an hour before lunch,” she decided, nodding to herself a few times to affirm the plan. “Do you mind? I mean, would you mind if I just...” she asked, her forehead scrunching as she tried, in her way, to ask permission to go be neurotic elsewhere.

"Oh, go ahead. I completely understand. I can help you practice if you want. If you would rather do it alone, that's fine too though. It was really nice to meet you. I'm glad we finally talked a bit."

Rayven smiled. She wasn't sure if she had truly helped Annie or not, but she seemed to be a bit more relaxed and that was enough for her. Plus, she hoped she had made a new friend. They did have some classes together after all.

"If you happen to need me or need any help with anything at all, or just feel like you need someone to talk to and hang out with, I'm always around. I'm sure we could find something to do to keep busy."

“I'm just... I'm really weird,” Annie explained with a shy smile as she gathered her things. She took great care to shut the pencil box carefully, testing the latch a few times to be sure it wouldn't stick. She didn't want a repeat of the exploding pencil box incident, though she had to admit that things had all turned out for the best in the end. She took up the book next and jimmied it into her sorrel hued pouch. It slid right in, though the book was clearly larger than the pouch was on the outside. The pencil case went in next, and Annie shut the zipper. It was a handy little satchel – the sort of functional pouch you don't realize the value of until you take to toting around all of the art supplies you own with you on a regular basis, particularly handy for intercontinental travel. You could say many things about Annie Enright, but you couldn't say she wasn't an efficient packer.

Her things sorted, she went on. “I just really like to put in a lot of time. I'm not... I mean... it takes me a little while before things are engrained? I just... I like to take a little time for myself and drill, just to be sure.” The extent of Annie's obsessive tendencies seemed pretty great even from the outside, but after spending an afternoon in a practice room with her while she madly runs through all of the relevant mnemonics and paces valleys into the floor, a new window into her insanity flies open quite quickly. It was a private sort of mania. Annie did know just how manic she could get, and she wasn't quite willing to reveal that side of her to someone she was just getting to know.

”If you happen to need me or need any help with anything at all, or just feel like you need someone to talk to and hang out with, I'm always around. I'm sure we could find something to do to keep busy.”

“You are so nice,” Annie gushed, her words flowing genuinely. She slipped off of the bench and cradled her pouch in her arms. “I wish I was... just not so crazy all of the time. I'm sorry. But it was a lot of fun talking to you!” she insisted, her tone undeniably apologetic. “Okay,” she said, with another series of nods for her own benefit, “I'll talk to you soon? Okay? I'm sorry!” and with that the straight-backed girl made her way to the door at a scurry, her hair swinging loose behind her.