outfit

Lua hooked a thumb at the waist of her skirt grinned at the (not so) miniature mass of sheets that formed a tower-of-sorts within the one of the very tippy top towers of Hogwarts. Bits of chair and broomstick poked out in strange shapes, every which way, not unlike the Gryffindor’s hair. She waved her wand over the entrance, behind which a dim lantern glow invited curfew-breakers from the four corners (er, houses) of Hogwarts. Metallic stars, not unlike the stickers muggle parents used to keep track of children’s progress in various areas of life, drifted over the tent’s entrance like snowflakes and landed softly on linen, the stone floor, and one or two in Lua’s hair. They glowed like fireflies, of which she was proud-- she had practiced it, and was certainly better with this charm than some of the ones she should technically be working on for class.

But that was why they were here!

Lua dropped to her knees and crawled through the entrance, where the stone floor was replaced with a frankenstein-ian mash of quilts, comforters, and a material that looked distinctly like the curtains from the four-poster beds in the Gryffindor dormitories. Lua was sure the elves wouldn’t mind her borrowing them. They were lovely, the elves. And their friend, the adorable peach who always swung the door open with ease when Lua tickled it, had many thanks for tonight’s tent picnic. Through little breaks in the seam of the tent, telescopes poked toward tower windows. The sun had gone down a couple of hours ago, and the sky was perfect for astronomy charting. Which Lua needed to do, among other scholastic tasks.

The inside of the tent spanned impressively, though not everyone was here yet. She heard the rustle of someone approaching and poked her head through the entrance again, grinning up at the newcomer with anything but intimidation in her fern-colored eyes. She had nothing on the gargoyle guards of the headmaster’s office, but still, she asked, with a hint of laughter in her voice. “Password?” Not waiting for answer-- really, they didn’t need a password!-- Her cheeks bunched toward her eyes and she held back a bit of sheet to let the person crawl in beside her.

Sneaking around at night was nothing new to Naomi, but tonight Lua wanted to do a study session picnic thing. Naomi wasn't adverse to declining something like that, she preferred doing something productively criminal during the late evening hours rather than something productively academic. But is was Lua, and a few assignments were going to be due in class the next day anyway, so dropping in for a snack and to see how her other classmates were doing seemed like a good idea--maybe she could get some other work done too.

So after roaming the castle in a long dress, wrapped in a hooded green cloak Naomi arrived at Lua's ragamuffin tent, crossed her arms, drummed her toes inside her socks, and waited. The Gryffindor then came out and greeted her like stifled explosion of excitment asking for a "password"; Naomi just quirked up an eyebrow and answered, "You're weird?" before she sat down on the floor, pulled her hood back, and slid into the tent after Lua.

Once her  legs slide over the quilt, the Slytherin rolled onto her knees and crawled deeper into the tent. She reached for a rosemary potato and popped it into her mouth before she sat down, dropped her bag onto a spot, and untied her cloak. Once she swallowed she gave the Gryffindor a sly smile, "Looks like you robbed everybaddy tonight, Lua," Naomi then tilted her head as her voice tinged with a hint of critcism, "Didyou put as much effort into your Divination as you did wit' 'dis?"

Kelvin had been laying on his stomach surrounded by books working on an essay since before the tent went up.  He was dressed comfortably in pajama bottoms and a hoodie, nestled in the pillows and blankets he had borrowed from the Ravenclaw common room.  He was going to get work done regardless of what the rest of the group did, or at least that's what he had told himself when he hunkered down and got to work while the tent had been built.  Though he had contributed a few sticking charms when an extra wand was needed, but mostly he was just working on editing a couple essays he had finished the day before.

He had his wand pointed at his parchment, siphoning off ink so he could rewrite a section, when he heard Lua ask someone for a password.  He kept focused on what he was doing since he really did not want to have to rewrite any more than he had to and the last thing he needed was his wand slipping and leaving a blank streak across the parchment..

"Looks like you robbed everybaddy tonight, Lua.  Did you put as much effort into your Divination as you did wit' 'dis?" Kelvin heard from the entrance to the tent.  Without looking up he spoke as he pulled his wand away from the parchment, done erasing for the time being.  "Divination requires effort?" He looked up and over to the entrance.  "Oh, Hi Naomi.  I think my Monster Book is hiding, doesn't like when strap a belt around it.  If you see it give it a stroke and toss it over will you?  Got a perfect place for a quote from it."

Lua's wrinkling nose was not one of disapproval, but amusement. Words like ‘weird,’ coming from Naomi, hardly phased her. She thought it was a mark of their friendship. If it had been someone else, someone intentionally cruel, maybe, but... She sat back with a welcoming grin still glowing softly on her face in the tent's strange mix of light. Mostly, it was dim, warm, orangey-yellowish, but where lanterns hung and people's wands made their homes, the light was stronger, more ideal for studying. Right, studying!

“Oh, Naomi, I would never rob anyone,” she said, clearly humored. “We're just borrowing a few things for the night! For a good reason.” Which Naomi, quick and clever and never missing a beat, seemed to zero in on. Divination... “I've got my calendar and charts and tea leaves ready,” she promised cheerfully.

Kelvin spoke up from his comfortable studying position, and Lua turned to look at him, grinning with a mixture of knowing agreement and admiration. “He's got practically all of his work done already.” Which was not shocking, had probably nothing to do with tents. She looked back to Noami. “Did you know that ambiance effects how you read into things? I think comfy blankets means we'll get lots done... Do you want me to read your tea leaves?” she asked, a hint of mischief in her voice, but mostly sincerity.

When Kelvin made the comment about Divination and gave the warning about the creature's book, Naomi sat back, and stretched her toes apart as a sly  smile slowly crawled across her face, "You should tell 'dat to the new Divination teacher, Kelvin," then the white of a smirk appeared on her lips, catching the tangerine glow of the lanterns,  and a dark eyebrow arched as she hugged her cheek to her shoulder, "She's caught Connor's tebo-shitting every time 'dis past month."[1]

Was Naomi happy about that? Probably too much. But it was nice to have a teacher who caught the little turd at every little turn. Maybe this Divination professor was the real deal.

Then Lua went onto to explain that Kelvin pretty much had his work done already--big surprise there. "As long as it's not goin' to tell me I'll perish by a collapsing tent--" then Naomi looked around as she rubbed her heal into the blankets, trying to feel if anything book-like were crawling around the tent, before she returned a lazy smile at Lua, "Sure."

1.	Approved by Sly

As if uttering his name just once was enough to invite total disaster, Connor’s head popped through the tent’s entrance, the flap held up by a bony hand. The rest of him—wife beater- and boxer clad self and all—quickly followed. “H’wheeeh,” he leered through the bulk of a cauldron cake, unconsciously spraying a few crumbs on whoever was closest the blankets. Pulling it out from his mouth—“Ny is ‘ere~”—he bent and squatted his way into a spot right next to Lua, giving her an enthusiastic hug (that might’ve been a mite too affectionate) before dramatically falling into one great heap of limbs beside her.

When he’d been invited to this lil’ dig for studying, the boy hadn’t planned on doing much but had brought some of his things anyway: a book on Divination stuffed with star charts and moon maps in the middle, and a shoddy attempt at a Herbology essay crammed somewhere in the back. Gripped in his other hand, it landed with a muffled thump a foot or so away.

That last one, he’d figured cheerfully, could an’ would be easily remedied with some… assistance from his friends.

One hand outstretched and reaching, Connor tried to pat an unceremonious hand on Kelvin’s head; he settled for the topmost part of his essay when he couldn’t. “Buddy, mate,” Connor greeted him cheerfully, before propping himself by his elbows—and then pushing himself up into a sitting position—to give that green-eyed girl before him a salacious wink. “Foley. You lot weren’t about t’ start anythin’ wivvout me, were you?

“Speakin’ of which…” Straightening, he craned his head, trying to look over the girl’s head. “Where’s Ronnie an’ Blake? Thought I’d be th’ last one t’ get here…”

   

"Not quite," Veronica chirped, plopping down next to Connor. She had been walking behind him for quite some time, simply... enjoying the view. and didn't feel at all bad about being a little late. Dumping her bag down and rifling through it, she came up with a little jar of lip balm and applied it hastily. She hadn't had the nerve to fish for it in the hallway to avoid giving away her vantage point. (Not to mention the things that happened to you when Connor Todd discovered you alone in a dark hallway...)

She had taken as many books as she could cram into her shoulderbag, and determination was her modus operandi tonight. Since the beginning of the year she had been slacking, and not caring, and not trying, and failing. When the idea for a study party came up, something inside her clicked, and she realized how terribly boorish it must look to an outsider to see a pretty girl like her slouching about and feeling sorry for herself. Time to knuckle down.

"Love the ambiance, Taylor," she said with a grin, adjusting the spaghetti straps of her little pink camisole. "Sort of a...five-year-old's version of Arabian Nights, almost."

“No one will perish, I promise.” She smiled back at Naomi, who seemed to be on the hunt. (Lua had seen Kelvin’s book take off into the mass of blankets like a wild animal for the hills.) “Unless it’s a cup of tea.”

As she went about preparing the cups, pouring from a kettle atop a sturdy-but-empty box she’d borrowed from a broom cupboard up here, she heard Connor make his grand entrance, voice even more distinct, because it was stuffed with cake. Lua looked over her shoulder, offering a smile, and barely turned around with a steaming tea cup in hand before she was pulled into a hug. She held the cup behind his head, mouth opening, brows lifting just so in pleasant-but-precariously-balanced greeting. Her opposite hand found the place between neck and shoulder, and she held on for a moment to the boyish, pajama clad frame which smelled distinctly like dessert. “Hi, Connor,” she said, delighted, grinning up at him, before letting go, sitting back, saying nothing on the topic of overly-friendly hugs. That was just Connor. She stretched past him to offer Naomi the tea, as a pair of long, boyish legs spread out beside her. “Did you bring cauldron cakes? We have some snacks from the elves.” She looked between them, addressing all three. “There’s butterbeer under the Manchester quilt.” Which she had also borrowed.

She smiled yet again as Veronica appeared. “You’re never too old to go camping.” Inside. A tower. She turned back to the kettle and poured another cup before settling down again, this time raising it to her own lips to sip idly. Cupping the china between two palms.

 “My Monster Book is really sweet.” She spoke of the thing as if were a squirrel whom she routinely fed peanuts. “If you try loosening the belt a little bit next time, it’s much easier to keep them happy. It does try to eat my Charms manual sometimes, though,” she added, appearing to think on the mysteries of this before draining her tea.

"All she'd have to do is turn around and she'd catch him doing something.  Don't have to be a great seer to--" Kelvin said before being interrupted by Connor's entrance.  Seeing Connor enter, he bent his head down to finish what he was working on before Connor could be Connor and distract him.  Which didn't take long as Connor started patting his essay.  "If you smear that I'm not going to help with yours."  Though usually he just ended up rewriting whole chunks of what Connor had done.

"Camping is fun until you pitch your tent over a lair of nifflers.  They even tried to drag off the kettle."  Kelvin rolled over and sat up, and pushed the essay he'd been working on into his bag, before Connor or the book swiped it.  "My Monster Book hasn't been the same since the day in the woods.  It didn't use to bite much, but now it bites all the time."  He said, scanning the tent, hoping to see some movement under the blankets.

Naomi raised and wagged finger at Kelvin as he tried to explain how easy it was to 'catch' Connor as Kelvin apparently underestimated the range of Connor's antics went. As the devil himself walked in Naomi casually added,  "Homework and classwork Kelvin--not attitude," the Slytherin finished without caring whether or not Connor knew who they were talking about. Unlike Kelvin cutting himself off before Todd walked in, Naomi had no such qualms to call someone out on something to their face--friend or not.

Connor's wink was met with a dull glare and unamused arch of her eyebrow; Naomi was never happy to receive a wink or anything from Connor either. He was not her favorite Ravencalw.

• “Foley. You lot weren’t about t’ start anythin’ wivvout me, were you?

 Naomi's eyes were still narrowed with some harsh cut, but her tone took on a more offended and light tone, "Like murder?"  the girl raised Lua's cup of tea to her lips and took a sip before she shrugged a shoulder to her cheek and firmly added, "Never."

"But I guess our Monster books need some attention," Naomi put the cup down for Lua and reached into her bag to pull out a drowsy, green, unbelted, and leathery hide monster book and hugged it to her chest like a baby, "I can share mine wit' you if you didn't bring yours."

Naomi being Naomi, she never belted her book shut; it had its own messy corner pocket of her bottomless bag that it happily lived and napped in, sometimes gnawing on her astronomy book--at least it stopped trying to outright eat it. But once the book's eyes landed on Connor, and the memory of the Ravenclaw's exploits[1] came racing back, the book furrowed its expression into a toothy growl.

Naomi hugged her shoulder to her cheek again as she gave a trained and innocent pout, accompanied by her tongue kissing the back of her teeth, "I t'ink it misses you."

1.	Curl Up with a Good Book

Always running late, Blake Knight thought to himself. Whether it was because he had way more on his plate this year or because he just couldn’t manage to keep his own schedule, the Ravenclaw was quickly realizing that he was giving his house a bad name. Not that he really minded. After all, look who he was hanging out with these days? Sneaky Slytherins and impulsive Gryffindors and fellow Ravenclaw delinquents.

But he felt that his tardiness was justified. Blake had made a detour to the Slytherin dorms to raid the candy stashes of all his siblings -- a prank he could only hope would provide enjoyment for Naomi and Ronni as they watched the Knight brood searching the dungeons high and low for the sweets.

Blake supplemented this candy with his own reserves. Only unlike his snobby siblings, the Muggle Loving Ravenclaw had managed to secure plenty of additional choices over the years. His arms were laden down with the bounty of candy, with his books being used to provide a surface to balance them on. He considered not bringing them at first because most of his homework was finished but he figured they would be needed in case anyone (namely Naomi) wished to question his intentions to study.

Blake balanced both the books and candy as he navigated the stairs to Lua’s study haven.

Stopping outside of the flap, Blake realized that he had not thought this far ahead. How was he going to get himself and his pile of books and sweets through the entrance without dropping it all?

Kneeling down, he slowly scooted forward with his outstretched arms. He gently nudged the flap with his neat stack, hoping it would have enough weight and structure to make it through unharmed. Unfortunately, that was not the case and in a matter of seconds, most of his candy stash had been deposited on the floor.

“Bullocks!” he muttered loud enough to be heard inside. He was beginning to regret not bringing his bag to stuff everything in. Grumbling a bit more, the Ravenclaw shifted the books he was holding to a position under one arm. Then, using his free hand, Blake started to pick up the various candy packages and started to fling them through the flap door, cheerfully calling, “Incoming!” with each candy bomb tossed.

When all the candy was safely inside, Blake started to shimmy himself through the tent opening. He paused with his lanky frame halfway through and and grinned at his fellow fourth years. “I hope you don’t mind that brought some provisions...I hear they are great study tools.”

At the blonde’s appearance, sleepy blue eyes lit up with an unholy glee. As much as he often found getting his arse handed to him on a daily basis to be the highlight of his pubescent years, Connor did like getting kisses and pinches without having to see Mm. Tulo, too. Falling down the stairs because of a well-aimed Jelly-Legs Jinx—or having stuff thrown at him—or getting stabbed at mercilessly with a quill—did get a little uncomfortable every once in a while.

Ronnie being there—prim, sassy, hot Ronnie who prolly knew him better than any girl should—made an already good night look even better. As she thanked the ever-so-adorable Miz Lua Taylor, he answered the tiny girl’s question with a sheepish smile before turning it Kevin’s way—Who, me?—and then Naomi’s. “Nah,” he replied, flapping a hand at her airily. He mustered his most cheerful, smarmiest grin; it was made of complete angel poop. “Betcha me Knuts tha’ it misses you more-”

And then he was pelted in the face by a squeaking pack of Sugar Mice. “Agh!”

When the spots in his vision went away, Connor’s outraged look broke into a broad smile. “An’ fodder,” he complained, mustering up a pained expression again as he rubbed at his nose in vain. More squeaking, however, did away with that and before long—without leaving Veronica’s side—he was leaning in eagerly, eying the rest of Blake’s plunder with an avaricious gleam. Somewhere not too far away, the bitten cauldron cake lay forgotten. “ ‘Ey, you wouldn’t ‘ave any Pepper Imps on ya, mate, would you…?”

Naomi rolled her eyes at Connor when, suddenly, someone stumbled outside the tent and then Blake voice carried into the tent, promptly followed by candy being flung through the entrance.

With pursed lips and a curious arch to her eyebrow, Naomi dropped her Monster Book of Monsters book to the sheets and eyed the candy, noticing that not all of them were acquired at Hogsmeade. As she reached to pick up a silver-packaged sweet her book disappeared into the quilts to ferocious tome-land where Kelvin's book was, and Lua's teacup Divination was momentarily forgotten. Naomi read the label of the package and her face fell into a suspicious lip-pursed expression--it was a Peppermint York Pattie.

Naomi shook her head and crawled over to the entrance, where Blake was trying to get into the tent with a handful of books, "You guys and candy," When she reached the entrance, Naomi rolled onto her knees and reached over Blake and hooked her fingers into his back pants pockets, "Can't you get a normal nighttime snack--like fruit?" Then, Naomi began to hoist Blake into the tent, "And didn't you get enough muggle candy in Paris?"

Though, while Naomi expected Blake might've totally tumbled over from her manhandling, she didn't expect that she wouldn't be able to keep herself steady. Dragging him around use to be a lot easier, but she suddenly realized he weighed differently than she remembered.

So she fell backwards and clumsily dropped Blake and his books over her lap. At least he was in the tent.

Green eyes grumpily stared down at Blake, accompanied by one of Naomi's frustrated pouts, "Ugh, Blake--you need to go on a diet."

Kelvin shrugged, "I prefer my books un-gnawed on.  Not that I don't find it's antics kinda cute sometimes."  Maybe complimenting the book would get it to reappear, and hopefully not biting down on his fingers when it did.  Then after very little warning from Blake's disembodied voice, candy started flying through the air.  He laughed as sugar mice smacked Connor in the face, until he was hit in the side of the head by a box of Every Flavor Beans.

"Ow.  Oh, my favorites."  He said, opening up the box, "Why would you want fruit?  Candy is so much better, and less messy while studying, especially if you are studying with certain people," He made a pointed look at Connor and the discarded cauldron cake, before going back to spying out some safe  jelly beans.  He'd never gotten a vomit flavored one, but Worcestershire Sauce had been a particularly terrible flavor.  He popped one into his mouth, "mmm, Bacon."  Emboldened, he grabbed another. "Ugh, asparagus," He said as after spitting out the bean.  "Okay, maybe a little mes—Umm what are you doing?"  He had looked up, only to see Blake in Naomi's lap.

He couldn't help it, but he found himself wishing he was laying in Connor's lap, or Blake's. No, stop thinking about that, he told himself, before pulling his bag into his lap, and making a show of looking for something.

Lua laughed in a way that another Gryffindor might roll his eyes-- it was perfectly friendly, harmless, even if she was laughing about a perfectly legitimate fear. “Nifflers aren't scary, Kelvin. They’re brilliant. Naomi and I have made friends with them.” Her eyes flickered to the girl. “I mean, they'll try to eat your arm at first, if it’s covered in bracelets, but don’t worry, they won’t really eat your arm. They’re overly friendly, like Connor, ‘cause they love you.” And gold. Lua didn’t really mean overly friendly, since there was rarely such thing, in her book. But gauging the reactions of others when Connor came hugging, squeezing, and amicably leering his way into a scene, well... he was extra friendly.

She reached for Naomi's empty cup just as Blake was coming through the tent’s entrance with more treats and a grin. Lua looked up and smiled back in greeting, offering a, “Hi, Blake!” before her eyes flickered back to the teacup.

Pulling a quill from somewhere-- her hair, maybe, or a belt loop-- Lua set the teacup gingerly onto a makeshift table and began to jot notes. “Good news, Naomi,” she said, as excitedly as any number of classmates might loudly whisper a most cheerful 'bad news.'

But what the news was was momentarily lost as Naomi went flying into Blake's lap. Lua's mouth opened, the fourth year Gryffindor equivalent of pensive bemusement. She wondered if the lucky landing was a more convert part of the tealeaves' tidings. Her expression to a soft smile. Maybe that was the true meaning of windfall. Lua bent back over her parchment, interpreting the leaves with this new development of cushioned falls (into boys’ laps), and noted the great windfall (yes, the symbol in the teacup was definitely ‘windfall’) of snacks they’d come into (compiled).

Something bumped her feet and Lua looked down, a cloud of hair falling around her face as she bent to look inspect it. She poked it with her wand, the rough, rectangular outline beneath the blankets. Whether it was Kelvin’s or Naomi’s she could not say, but one of the Monster Books had surfaced. Under the surface. Lua dropped to her knees and pulled back the blanket. The thing scuttled up very suddenly, caught and intent on... not being caught. As it darted straight for one of the small stockpiles of snacks situated around the tent, Lua bounced back up. “Watch your sweets!” The book scurried along one side of the tent, causing a slight flutter of the not-so-solid walls.