Elian looked around the room watching everyone at the Ball. He had come by himself, it was always easier to pickpocket the nervous boys who had presents for thier dates that way. It was all harmless fun, he would make them sweat a little bit then give it back. Sitting back in his chair he pushed himself off the ground til he was balancing on two chair legs and the toe of his shoe. A cursory glance around the room said that no one was watching him at that moment. Sliding his hand over the table he rested it over the silverware like he was about to pick it up. Gripping it in his hand he slid the spoon into his sleeve.

He continued with the fork  slipping it in as well. Going for the knife as he looked around he stopped dropping it half out of his sleeve cursing under his breath at the cut on his finger. Sticking it in his mouth he sucked on it as he looked around again to see who had caught his folly. He wasn't really serious about stealing the dining utensils but it still wouldn't be very good if he got caught.

Hooch found herself staring at - oh, Merlin what was his name... - Elian Harris.  She narrowed her gold-brown eyes from across the room at the lad sitting by himself at a small table whilst other people his age were mingling and dancing and admiring one another's finery.  Madam Hooch had had little occasion to interact with the older, well-kept Gryffindor.  She'd had him for Flying of course, but really in no other capacity, which is why she found it odd to be staring at him from across the room. 

Cutlery seemed to be disappearing.  She watched one more time to be certain.  And this time the knife slipped and the lad gave himself a little poke.  "Oh Merlins... do excuse me..."  she parted ways from her date with a polite touch on her shoulder, and she proceeded to intercept.  (Funnily enough, she used a classic Seeker manuever, called the O'Galley's Rally, to get a good approach on the lad.  She circled round wide on his left side so she could approach more or less undetected, using other players guests as visual distractions.)

"Harris!"  Hooch snatched him by the collar and dragged him sharply out of the tipping chair and to his feet.  A silver fork clattered to the floor and in a tight little voice, Hooch narrowed her eyes and whispered, "put them all down and come with me."

It wasn't a suggestion, but she was giving him an opportunity to save face. 

Elian, too distracted by his finger didn't see Madame Hooch come up until she grabbed him by the collar and jerked him up. He gagged a moment on his finger which had gotten shoved further into his mouth before he pulled it out and looked at her blinking a moment. Put them all down? What was she thinking? Keeping a straight face he sighed and let about six or seven sets of cultery fall to the table, shaking his sleeve and letting another fall after them. Looking down at her he sighed again peeling her hand off his collar and smoothing his clothes back.

Before she would even lead him out he walked to the door as if to step out for some fresh air finding a spot away from other students and teachers to lean against a wall waiting for her. It wasn't as if he was going to keep them all, he just wanted to see the reaction when people tried to eat and they didn't have utensils to eat them with. A moment before she came up to him he slid his hand in his pocket hiding the item he'd stolen from her. He'd give it back after she noticed and if she didn't maybe after this scolding.

Thank Merlin for the rare moments when young wizards stumbled upon reason.  Elian Harris complied, albeit with a surly tone, with Hooch's directions and soon she was following him out of the Great Hall, passing students in their finery and shimmering ice sculptures on their way out.

Out in the Entrance Hall, Madam Hooch closed the distance between them and put her fists on her hips, the same posture she took when beginning a Quidditch match and teaching First Year to fly.

"Fancy yourself a clever lad, do you?  There isn't magic enough in this world to scrub out a black reputation, Mr. Harris.  Did you mean to corner the market on cutlery?  Extort us all during the soup course?  Perhaps your father is in the straw business?"

The hard old witch's glare was unflinching.  She seemed very much to think Elian was trifling in such trivial mischief it wasn't even worth respecting his skill. 

Elian watched Madame Hooch come up and take her standard pose. He steeled himself for the scolding, he blinked when she seemed to make the repremand something of a joke. Was she serious? He snorted a moment shoving a hand through his hair, thinking of saying something but he stilled. She didn't just bring his father into this. At the mention he fliched just enough to be noticed. It was a pained look that didn't last longer than a second.

Looking at the ground he kicked his boot against the wall, his voice barely loud enough for her to hear. "My father died when I was five...," he said sighing as he reached into his pocket and held out the ring he had taken.

"Good for you.  The Wizengamot will love that bit.  Can you tear up when you say it?" Hooch snipped back, not at all sympathetic.  This was about him stealing, not the trials and tribulations that caused a lad to ruin a perfectly fine party.  (Or was it?)  Hooch crossed her arms.  The boy looked nearly penitent! Even looking at the ground and shuffling his feet. 

"Well, speak up.  What do you mean by nicking the flatware, Mr. Harris? Are you looking for a laugh at our expense or are you so destitute that you're at your last split pea and shall starve if you can't sell them for a thrice of sickles?"

She snapped her fingers in his eyeline.  "Oi.  Well? What do you have to say?"

Elian didn't say  a word as she continued her ranting at him. The more she talked, the only most he did to acknowledge was the tightening of his jaw muscles as his teeth clenched. He knew someone would go digging into him one day for it, he just didn't think it was going to be over some harmless fun. When she snapped in his face he finally looked up at her, his eyes were misted over. The Robin Hood of Hogwarts was showing a weakness he never had before.

"My father died when I was five. My mother had four other children. I heard her talkning to her herself everynight. She didn't have the money to even feed us. So I did what I had to do to help. It's how I have everything I own, how I slipped enough money to my mother without her knowing to be able to care for us. I'm not asking for pity, do whatever you want to with me....but please. Please Madame Hooch, whatever you do. Don't tell my mother. It would kill her," Elian said as he looked up at her with a desperate hope that she wouldn't tell anyone.

"The silverware was just harmless fun, I was wanting to see peoples' reactions, I was going to give it back. It's always funny to see the other kids freak out a little when they realize they don't have the silverware to eat with."

Oh Merlin, he was nearly in tears.  Hooch immediately felt a pang of regret.  She never counted on the older lads to be so sensitive and bless his soul.  She didn't often bat an eye at a first year crying - what was typical.  But a strong sort of lad like Elian bearing his heart? Made her feel well like a beast.

Too old for pride was Madam Hooch and she turned her head in sympathy.  And in an unusual guesture (it must be the holiday spirit and the recent motherly influence of her date Heloise) Hooch stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the tall boy's shoulders, pressing his head to her shoulder for comfort.

"You poor little magpie, stealing to make ends meet.  Bad habits through and through, you poor dear, not even a father for your mother to lean on."

She'd have held him like that for as long as he'd allow it, going on about what she had to say.

"Oh but you can't carry on that way, Elian.  You've got plenty to eat here at Hogwarts, and you'll be seventeen soon if you're not already and the last thing your mother needs is a son with a snapped wand and a stay in that black tower in the North Sea..." she went on, holding him close in her calloused hands against her high-collared black and white kaftan gown.

When Hooch pulled him close, Elian couldn't help but let a few tears loose. He hated this time of year. Christmas was alright, but every year was just a reminder that his father was dead and never coming back. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking and his shoulders bobbing with the silent tears. He hadn't cried once over his father's death. Even seeing the body laid out and his mother wailing, he never cried. Maybe it was the fact that he never really talked about it, or that his mother never really held him like this when talking about his father. No...she was always too drunk this time of year for that.

So maybe that was the reason he let his former teacher hold him as he cried, not caring who saw them. Every one had a breaking point and Elian, had reached his. After a few moments he pulled back from her wiping his face off with the back of his hand. He sniffled a little as he tried to regain his composure.

"I'm sorry....Dad died about this time of year so...it's just...it's hard."

"There, there, get it all out..." Hooch cooed.  She could have cried herself, with all the stress of the term coming to a head.   Good lad he must be to not get defensive and surly when a tearful emotion crept on.  It was a brave thing to let one feel that way, but Hooch wondered if perhaps Elian didn't have a choice in the matter just now.

She let him go when he moved away. 

"I reckon it is," she said with knowing sort of nod.  Hooch was in her nineties.  For muggle readers, that's not as old as you think it is, but it still leaves plenty of room for living and losing.  In her time she'd seen her own parents go, and far too many students.

"It's hard to miss people we've lost until we come upon an occasion where they were supposed to still be there.  You'll be heading home tomorrow then, Harris?" she asked him.  Perhaps that was the hardest bit, knowing he'd be back in the home and facing an empty chair. 

Elian watched her as he finished wiping his face off. He sighed as he looked around and then back to her. He knew what she was doing, knew what she was asking and it didn't make it any easier to talk about or think about. He looked up at the ceiling as he thought about how best to answer her. Finally he dediced on a decent way and nodded to himself.

"I'll be taking the kids home. Mom will probably be too drunk to come get us so, I'll take them home and after that who knows, I might stay and I might not," he said with a shrug as he sighed again.

He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

Ah right, the kids.  She'd had more than a couple other Harris kids go through Flying these last couple years.  It made sense the Elian would bear the burden of their well-being from time to time. 

"You're a good brother," Hooch said with a final sort of nod.  "They're lucky to have you.  So long as you keep your nose clean, understand?  Leave the silverware where it is, understand?"  There was a small smile beginning on her lips even as the old witch reminded him of why they'd had this little conversation.

"Now there you get.  Back to the party."  She nodded in the direction of the Great Hall doors where a spontaneous round of applause seemed to signal something interesting was going on.