Moira didn't smile at the professor comment, but the corners of her lips did turn up just a bit. She watched as he dropped his hand but had to shake her head at the question. "Not as much as I'd like to. I'm usually busy or caught up with other things but I try to visit them as often as I can. Not many do aside from Hagrid, even though they work to pull those carriages."

The Thestral decided his head had enough loving for now and pulled back, then turned to let them get at his shoulder instead. "I do seem to have the habit of spoiling them, but I can't help it. I've a soft spot for winged horses."

"I do seem to have the habit of spoiling them, but I can't help it. I've a soft spot for winged horses."

"Doesn't every girl?" Ambrose chuckled, "Not that you're every girl, Moira."

The thestral had moved and Ambrose felt a different part beneath his fingertips. As long as it wasn't the teeth, eyes or certain parts of the bottom, he wasn't worried. So far, it didn't feel like any of those, but he glanced at Moira to check if she wasn't laughing or staring in horror at it.

"You ever ridden one? Not necessarily a thestral, but like, an abraxan or," he screwed his face up and thought about things, "an aethonan or a granian? I'd love to one day, just to know how it feels." Ambrose's gaze turned once more to his hand petting what looked like clear air. It was absolutely baffling.

Moira watched the Thestral as they rubbed its body. Noticing the wing twitching she took Ambrose's hand again and guided it along the main bone. Mouth twitching towards a smile at the Thestral's obvious relief when they got the itch she glanced towards Ambrose, and remembered he couldn't see it. "His wing itched."

Hearing his question about ever riding a winged horse really did pull a smile out of her this time. "Oh, plenty of times and every breed. My dad raises and breeds them so I grew up around them." Still smiling she looked to the Thestral as he decided he'd had enough and ran off to play with the others. Lowering her hand to the fence again she observed them, as always.

"That's its wing?" Ambrose asked, incredulously. He was touching an invisible flying horse's wing. His face couldn't convey the surprise and excitement at discovering this - it simply didn't have enough space to grin further.

"Oh, plenty of times and every breed. My dad raises and breeds them so I grew up around them."

"Breeds winged horses? Wow, blimey, I didn't know that. How many have you got? How on earth do you keep them hidden from Muggles?" Ambrose had a vision of trying to keep one in the back garden in Biggleswade. It wouldn't last a second. They didn't even have a cat.

"Moira, how have we only ever spoken about stuff like this now - you're a wealth of knowledge!"

Ambrose was definitely delighted about this creature, enough so that Moira felt even if he saw it his delight wouldn't change. Rubbing the Thestral's side she let Ambrose continue to examine it's wing via touch. When he asked her about the flying at her home she chuckled faintly and shook her head. "How many depends on the time of year and dad's clients but we always have at least twelve. It's not hard to keep them hidden because we own a lot of land in the highlands. So it's rather private."

Then he went on in complimenting her and she shook her head a little bit. "I don't talk much, and really I only know much about animals." Still, it was nice of him to say it.

"I don't talk much, and really I only know much about animals."

"Aw, don't say that. You know lots of things. Hell, if you didn't you'd be in the same detentions for flunking tests like I end up in." He pouted momentarily, "You should talk more, you have lots of interesting things to say." Ambrose smiled genuinely at Moira.

"I'd listen." He added, a little more softly.

For a moment, he considered asking Moira if she had a Yule Ball date, but the words got stuck in his throat. Part of him was holding out to see if he and Winnie could go together, what with them being good friends and neither good at finding other partners. But even that subject was hard to broach with her. For the moment, he contented himself with having had a proper conversation with Moira, after so many years, and blushed a little in the pause.

"Reckon you could ride this thestral?" He asked in a low voice.

Moira found herself staring at Ambrose, completely at a loss. Socially, it wasn't difficult to do but never had she felt lost like this. She didn't know what to say, or even think of saying. In fact, there was a bit of silence that stretched between them until he, fortunately, changed the subject.

"I can ride any horse with wings." Well. Almost any winged horse. There were undoubtedly a few that were a bit too wild for her to handle still. That wasn't the issue though, it was the Thestral they were petting and he was calm as anything. No doubt she could ride this one.

"Any?" Ambrose asked in a low voice, eyes like saucers. "You're not pulling my leg, because, y'know I wouldn't put anyone past it." The Gryffindor's expression darkened a moment as he recounted how people would often take advantage of his gullible nature.

"Go on," His lips curled into a cheeky smile, "prove it!"

"Just about any." Then he told her to prove it. Something told her it was a bad idea, that she was likely to get caught but there wasn't a specific rule that said she couldn't ride one. Glancing towards the hut she made up her mind. "Alright, I will."

Setting her stuff down she moved until she sat on the top railing of the fence. Moira talked quietly to the Thestral, explaining what she was doing as she got on. She had never ridden this one before so it was always best to be sure. Once she was on securely she wrapped her arms around his neck and eased him up into the air. "Just a low circle over the area then land in here again."

The Thestral, amazing creature that it was, did just that. It felt wonderful to be up in the air again, even if it wasn't on one of the herd. When he touched down again she rubbed his back and shoulder and got off and back by Ambrose.

Ambrose watched as Moira approached thin air, and then climbed up, to be swept off the ground in the air by something invisible. It was like she was riding an invisible broom, only it dipped and rose as it ascended. His jaw dropped - she was effortlessly in the air, her hair picked up by the rush of cool November air.

"That was fantastic! I wish I could see them - or I wish there was a way I could y'know, without the morbid reasons." He gushed, eyes bright, staring at where the thestral must be and then to Moira.

Boldly, he reached out and touched her hand gently with his own.
"I'm really sorry you can see thestrals, Moira, whatever the reason." Feeling a little awkward at his own sincerity, he went to release her hand. "That really was awesome. I won't tell anyone, I promise." He smiled at her contentedly.

The look on his face when she landed was amazement and almost awestruck. It was a little uncomfortable, since going around like that was an average almost daily thing at home even if she didn't fly. Moira supposed not being able to see it did have somewhat of an impact on how 'cool' it was.

When Ambrose's hand touched hers she blinked and looked towards him fully. She hadn't expected it and as such it had rather surprised her. Still, hearing his sincere words she nodded. "Thanks."

His promising not to tell had her lips twitching lightly. Her flying on an invisible horse wasn't something she really cared if it was a secret or not. At most she'd get detention and be told not to do it again if a teacher found out. Most detentions they came up with didn't bother her, not that she frequented detention.

Picking up her notebook she had dropped at one of the fence posts she leaned against the fence and looked to the Thestrals again. That baby was just too cute. Likely she'd end up drawing it next.

Sighing a little and tilting his head at the empty pen, as it still remained to him, he thought to check the time on his watch given the remaining light on the grounds.

"Best be heading back for dinner," He told Moira, "You coming?" The Gryffindor spied the continuation of Moira's sketching and gave a clumsy smile, "Oh, well, perhaps see you about then, Moira."

There was an awkward but happy pause between them, and Ambrose lowered his voice,
"Flying horse jockey McBoid." He gave his classmate a salute and then scampered off into the dim light towards the castle. Ambrose wouldn't easily forget the sight of Moira flying around on what seemed like air without a broomstick. Perhaps he'd even found a girl he might ask to the ball...