Lua lay curled up, knees tucked beneath her belly, arms stretched out over a one of the two mats[1] she’d laid out under the pavilion. There was a warming charm in the outdoor stone corridor that wrapped around toward the school’s entrance, but the openness still meant that a chill would rustle past now and again. Luckily, they’d been working up a sweat, and their new yoga pants were also charmed for all sorts of weather. Lua breathed in, held the pose, though about some nice, breathed out through whistle-poised lips. She grinned, her eyes opening as she rolled up onto her knees. “See, isn’t it great?” She asked, looking over her shoulder to her fellow practitioner. He still had a bit of work to do, but she thought he had lovely natural stretchiness.

“Here, move this way and stretch out on your back,” she said, patting the end of the mat, hoping he would scoot down. It had been a while since they’d had a chance to practice, and even though it was an easy pose, Lua thought it was good to go over it again. Patience and tranquility. “Then bring one knee up and lock your arms around it.” Reclining Knee to Shoulder was another restorative pose[2], easy, a good thing to try when practicing the breathing pattern. But it was February, and they were half outdoors in the middle of a school full of magical adolescents, wearing colorful yoga pants while they stretched in every which way. “Breathe,” she instructed patiently, expecting him to concentrate on the exaggerated breathe-in-through-the-nose-out-through-the-mouth pattern.

“Now, let’s do a supported Bridge Pose[3],” she said, reaching for one of the foam blocks. She gave it a little shake, a reminder. She waited for him to lift his hips and then helped wedge the block beneath the small of his back. Lua pulled back with a victorious grin. She crawled back toward her own mat and reached for a second block, easing onto her back and into the pose so that were in (slightly, wonderfully mismatched) unison. Her ponytail spilled behind her and she saw Connor's long legs from an interesting angle as she brought her hips up further.

1.	Child's Pose
2.	Reclining Knee to Shoulder Pose
3.	Supported Bridge Pose

On the mat beside her, Connor Todd did what he was told, for once, and slowly – languorously – thrust his bony hips in the air with a grunt.

Yoga. Just fifteen going on sixteen, there was still a lot of growing to be done where Connor was concerned, and while he was certainly flexible he was also gangly, which meant there was simply more of him to trip and confuse, thus leaving him in a complicated tangle of limbs (that wasn’t nearly as sexy as one might think). Gifted though he was in dexterity and coordination (which, face it, you had to be, if you got into half as much trouble as he did), he, like his peers, still had moments of truly awe-inspiring clumsiness that left him with a lot less inner peace than before. Eventually, after a particular embarrassing sequence of events (that no one speaks about ever), Lua, blesshersoul, had invited him to take up the ancient and respected art of yoga alongside her.

Connor, blesshissoul, couldn’t find it in him to say no. Hell, he found it interesting, even (which, really, should have been warning enough), because hey, he was pretty flexible, so why not? And so, in the typical way of things where the sweet-faced Gryffindor was concerned, the oft-contrary Ravenclaw agreed—partly on the basis that it sounded fun, also on the basis that it seemed it’d be useful (insert leer here), but mostly on the basis that one just didn’t say no to Lua Taylor (‘yes’ was generally the next logical step, the same way exhaling was in breathing). They were friends, which meant a great deal more to the boy than most gave him credit for, and she had a special place in his heart that meant even thinking of turning her down indicated there was something very, very wrong (possibly with the universe). So he hadn’t.

Besides, he looked effin’ great in yoga pants—which certainly left his privates more ‘n enough air t’ breathe.

Fastforwarding days ‘n weeks– nay, months– the boy was no longer a total greeny; all of this– the pants, the stretching, the squishy mats ‘n all –had become something of a routine between them (though it would certainly take a buggerin’ lot more ‘til he got used to the idea of waking up early for this, instead of the usual loafing around), and so he moved through the poses with ease, curling up and stretching at Lua’s direction. His shirt, though, was beginning to stick to that spot between his shoulder blades, and his body curved like strung bow as he picked at it with a breathy groan.

“Totally great,” he had muttered belatedly, before flopping back onto the mat again (and picking up his hips like instructed). “Peachy keen.”

But it wasn’t too bad, and although hunger was starting to gnaw at his insides like a ravenous… well… Connor, said boy was still some ways off before he was honestly cranky. Anyway, the block was made of foam. If he had done this with Ny, it would have been made of wood. Disguised to look like foam. “How long is this one?” he asked, and wiggled his hips for emphasis. His shirt slipped a little further up his chest.

---

Lua’s grin spread as Connor agreed that it was great. This meant that she could drag him to classes over the holidays and let him show off, in all of his pink pants and stretchy Connor-ness glory. “We can do Bikram Yoga over the summer. They put you in a really hot room,” she explained. “You have to drink a lot of water, though.” Which usually meant everyone as queuing up outside the lavatories after being let out of the very, very warm room.

She looked over his form, adjusting him here and there, but he had it down. Connor was good at stretching. From her own place on the mat beside him, she continued to stare at him from a curious angle. She didn’t try very hard (or at all) to suppress her amusement as he wiggled his hips. “Let’s breathe in and out five times, then try it without the blocks,” she said, watching the shirt slide further. Her gaze moved back to her own hips and she slowed her breathing, iiiiinnnn, hold, oooouuuuut. She did this four more times before clasping the solid foam. Her fingernails were painted in slightly-clashy February themes. Her hips threatened to dip for a moment before she tightened them, holding the bridge pose without support.

With that done, Lua lowered back onto the mat with a triumphant breath. Now they were warmed up, they were ready to pick up on the usual core poses, at a power yoga pace. She climbed to her knees again, looking at Connor from the right-side-up this time. She bit her lower lip happily, then: “Ready for something faster? Downward dog, maybe, then you can pick the sequence!” Lua thought he would make a very good teacher.

If there happened to be a hoard of younger girls and boys who had eventually picked up on their schedule (or Connor’s schedule), and were braving the blustering February to hide on the other, uncovered side of the pavilion, they were very skilled at hiding their intense interest. She had seen glances from classmates and schoolmates here and there, but she hadn't noticed the repeat offenders, the spies. She looked toward the sun on the other side of the pavilion wall and for a brief moment thought she had seen a girl, but then she was gone, a flash of red hair and knit hat. Lua smiled a kind of shrug before settling into the pose, her expression becoming calm and concentrated. The occasional owl provided a nice alternative to a CD full of nature sounds.

Mass sweating while stuck in box full of people? Lua didn’t even need to mention the pee lines, the boy could already picture it in his mind’s eye—and his bladder very nearly cramped at the thought of it. “Joy,” Connor drawled lazily, though he shot her a crooked grin as he followed her cue, breathing in and out at her count. With every rise ‘n fall of his chest his shirt hitched up a little higher, and only further when he did the same—grabbing the foam out at four. Muscles clenched as he strained to keep his hips up, mid-air. “Lookin’ forward t’ it.”

Sort of. Ish. It didn’t sound so bad—even if he did prefer sweating buckets a, heh, funner way. In the very least it meant other people would be sweating, and if his shirt was any indication that meant their clothes might stick, too…

Would they be allowed to take their shirts off? God, he hoped so. That’d be great.

His cheeks clenching with effort, Connor thrust up that extra inch, before dropping back onto the mat with a loud, guttural, punched out groan of relief. His legs still bent, they stayed bent, though they flopped wide open. He lay there for a bit, looking happy and sated; hearing that it was his turn now only made him brighten further. “Downward dog?” Happily, he stretched, until knobby toes were curling. “Aw yiss.”

And then he rolled over, like a sausage on a spit. With a cracknob grin Connor pushed up onto his hands and knees, setting his knees directly below those naked hips and turning his toes under.

He exhaled. Slowly, he got into position, until his head hung heavy between his arms and his butt wiggled in the air. The burn of it arcing along his upper back, Connor swung a grin at her, wide and adorably smug. “Hol’ for twenty, res’ in child’s pose, then the standing forward bend, yeah?”

---

Kelvin hadn't seen Connor and Lua practicing yoga yet.  He'd definitely heard about it from both of them.  And he'd heard whispers about it in the halls a few times.  Mostly because he still couldn't help but eavesdrop when he heard Connor's name, and the few times it had been about yoga he'd been relieved.  He was also a little afraid it would be a little much seeing his best mate and crush of way too long doing yoga.  A few of the whispers he'd heard about them doing yoga outside had been from girls and other than their general, well founded, uneasiness about it being Connor, they'd seemed plenty interested in discussing him and his yoga schedule.

So Kelvin had stayed away even after he had stopped avoiding everyone.  Except today he'd sought out his friends instead of going straight the Great Hall or the library.  It'd been a stressful week, he'd blown up another potion, the Professor made the hell that was potions even worse than before, and he wanted to spend his Sunday with friends.  It didn't hurt or help that he'd already finished all his homework.

Except as he turned into the covered walkway around the courtyard he already regretting coming out of the castle.  He was trying to get 0ver his friend, and seeing him bent over, shirt falling forward, and yoga pants riding low was not an image that helped.  It would have made it worse, but Kelvin had shared a dorm with him for nearly four years.

"G'morning," He greeted before walking toward them, looking everywhere except at Connor.  "How do you do that before breakfast?"  He said as he neared them, sitting down on the ground with Lua between him and Connor.  "Wait, no, after would be worse."

Connor’s apparent love for downward dog was matched by Lua’s own. Lua’s smile grew, blooming between now-rounded cheeks. No one had said it wasn’t ok to smile while getting in tune with one’s own body. She was lucky to have had very smiley teachers throughout her own yoga education (which was not exceptionally long, but which she approached with enthusiasm). Concentrated breathing might have required a relaxed but determined face (both oxymoronic and natural as one could get), but the fourth year was about as likely to stop smiling as she was to give up on Connor and his progress. Connor was taking it seriously, which thrilled Lua.

In sync with the Ravenclaw, Lua turned over on her mat and lifted onto the soles of her feet, forming a sort of limb-y, inverted V. She could feel her shoulders relaxing a bit, her spine stretching like a cat’s as they held the asana. Her lids fluttered shut just enough to concentrate on her breathing. She turned to peak at Connor, and her grin reclaimed her face as she noted his confident one. She laughed, but recovered with remarkable quickness (sometimes the giggles took over). “Twenty,” she agreed, turning her head and closing her eyes again as she counted her breaths. Then they were moving into child’s pose, resting before they climbed to their feet to complete the sequence.

Lua bent forward, again feeling bones and muscles open and stretch. Her view of the world was now upside-down, and it was between her knees that she saw Kelvin approach, his feet closer to her face than his head. Lua was sure, too, that she saw another flash of red hair and hat, joined by two other pairs of prying eyes. “Kelvin! Good morning!” She returned the greeting, still staring at him upside down through her legs. Slowly, she rose up, gentle and breathing in sync. From upright, she had a better vantage point of Kelvin’s face. The Gryffindor laughed and brushed a bit of her now-dangerously-loose ponytail over her shoulder as she joined him on the ground, folding her legs into a pretzel and resuming the posture encouraged by yoga instructors. “It loosens up your muscles and helps you concentrate. It’s really good for digestion, too,” she suggested. Lua could use a bowl of porridge with lots of cinnamon and brown sugar and fruit, maybe some juice, and tea, and a heart-shaped post-it note from the depths of her book bag that she could scrawl upon and send back on her empty to plate to the elves, who were brilliant. They’d once returned her thank-you with stick figure elves drawn on the other side. “Do you want to join?”