Warren's breath hung in a thick smoky cloud around his head, and steam rose off his heated flesh. There was a snap in the November air. On the ground all around the lake the frost clung to the blades of grass. Warren grunted with effort every time he sat up, for in his arms was a long log. Earlier he had drug said log from the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Anyone who had been watching him from the start had seen him walk down from the castle in knee length shorts and an old black and green striped Slytherin pullover. If the cold had bothered him, he didn’t show it as he began to jog around the expanse of the school grounds. After picking up the log from shadow of the dark forest, Warren had run to the shore of the lake with it. A cold breeze washed in from over the lake, causing the sixth year’s skin to rise.

Up and down he rocked; his face red with effort. He clutched the damp piece of wood to himself as tightly as possible, pieces of bark flaking off and sticking to his jersey. His teeth were clenched tightly as he silently counted out the repetitions to himself.

While he did his sit-ups his mind wandered. During this time of the year he always caught himself thinking about his home. Not a year had gone by yet that he hadn’t gone back to the Neifion estate for the Holidays. He thought of his Grandpa, and games of Wizard chess. His mind kept wandering; it wandered to the Yule Dance. He realized that he didn’t have a date yet. There were plenty of girls to ask, he just hadn’t yet. In Slytherin alone there were multiple attractive sixth years that he was probably only related to a little bit.

Warren chuckled at his own joke and started coughing from inhaling too much cold air at once. He laid his head back on the chilled earth, the frost soaking into the back of his shirt and into his short sweat soaked hair. He stared up into the grey sky while holding onto the log that rested on his stomach.

The weather outside kept getting colder and colder recently. Due to the cold nature of the weather, Addison had been spending more and more time inside than usual. She loved being outdoors, but even she couldn't stand being cold for a very long amount of time. For that matter, she was usually cold when she had Herbology class as it was. At any rate, the castle always seemed rather warm to her as it was. That certainly helped matters.

Keeping up with her usual actions, the young Ravenclaw was sitting up in a nearby tree by the lake. It was always nice to have the time to sit outside to have some alone time to think things through. It gave an excellent time to reflect on herself. Of course, midterms were coming up soon. So, she would become way too stressed out at that time. For that matter, she would probably be stressed for a good portion of next year, with the OWL exams and everything that she would have to take. But, she liked to keep those thoughts out of her mind if she could. There was no need to be anxious at events that hadn't even happened yet.

Taking her sight off of the lake, Addison had flipped open her sketchpad from her bag. Flipping through the pages, she stopped at a drawing of the lake that she drew back in her first year during winter. Comparing her past drawings with current scenes always interested her. Smiling at her drawing, she looked up from the page to look at the lake again. Indeed, it was very pretty. But, she noticed something very strange occurring below her on the ground.

An older male was lying on the ground with a log in his hands, doing sit-ups by the lake. He was dressed like any other athlete would when exercising. But, it was winter outside, so his choice of attire wasn't designed to keep him warm. Glancing down at her own outfit, she knew that she would remain at least somewhat warm for a little while longer. Looking back at the boy, he was laying completely down on the ground with the log on his stomach. Moving slightly to make herself more visible, she couldn't help but to wonder what the boy was doing. "Hey, are you alright down there?" she called down, in wonder.

Warren had been slowing his breathing down to keep from coughing more when he heard someone call out to him. He reached underneath the log that rested on him and then shoved it off. His sea foam colored eyes searched around for the source of the voice. It then dawned on him that the voice had asked if he was alright down there. He looked up and sure enough there was a girl looking down at him from a branch. He guessed the girl was a couple years younger since he hadn't seen her in any of his classes.

Slowly Warren made his way to his feet, wary of blood rushing too quickly to his head. He smiled up at the girl while brushing his shorts and legs free from the wet grass and clumps of earth that clung to him.

"I'm fine," Warren called back up to her, "just getting a little exorcise in. The weather seemed pretty nice out today."

Warren wondered to himself why the girl was up in the tree. It probably wasn't the most unusual place to be, but it still struck him as odd. He thought he noticed something in her hands. It looked like maybe a book of some sort. He narrowed his eyes as he squinted up at her, the sun behind the tree keeping him from being able to see exactly what she had. He walked closer to the tree to avoid the direct light from the sun. His breath was still a little heavy and trailed behind him as he strode forward like smoke from a dragon.

"I'm Warren by the way. I don't think we've met before. What have you got up there with you? If you don't mind me being nosy."

Fidgeting slightly in the tree, Addison carefully changed her position slightly on the branch. Climbing trees had been a frequent activity that she indulged in, before she came to Hogwarts. For that matter, she still liked to climb trees. It always gave her a better line of sight of the nature all around her. Usually, she was right in the middle of natural habitats for different animals, or at least was the case at home. Despite what he found in the trees, she would normally find some form of inspiration for a new drawing.                   

Smiling when she heard the boy was fine, Addison couldn't suppress a giggle when he said that the weather was nice. "Well, it is still cold out, no matter how nice it looks," she added with a smile. In her opinion, the outdoors always looked nice. No matter how nice it looked, the weather could always be different. She learned that the hard way a few years ago.

Realizing that it probably didn't help their conversation that she was sitting up in the tree, Addison figured that it would be best for her to be out of the tree. Glancing down at the ground underneath her, she quietly jumped off of the branch of the tree that she was on. It was a good thing that she was wearing leggings with her skirt!

After landing on her feet, Addison quickly held onto the tree so she didn't lose her balance from the jump. Quickly brushing the pleads of her skirt down, she flashed Warren a smile. "It's nice to meet you Warren, I'm Addison." Glancing down at the sketchpad in her hands, she quickly closed it at his question. "Oh, um, this? It's just a book ... An art book," she added before slipping the pad back into her bag. Technically, it wasn't a lie. There was art in it, just that it was her own art. But, she was never comfortable with sharing her own art. So, the fact that she admitted it was even an art book was monumental with her.

Warren turned his head and looked away when Addison jumped down from the tree. It seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do, on the off chance that she had a wardrobe malfunction. He stepped back to give Addison some room now that she was down from her perch. A chill wind rolled though and ruffled Warren's clothes. He braced himself against it, and rubbed his hands together for warmth.

"You are correct. It is pretty cold out. Once you get the blood pumping it's not too bad though," he said before cupping his hands to his face.

Warren listened as the fourth year told him about her book. Slowly a smile formed on the older boy's face as he started to piece it together. The ideal locale, the high seat, the art book, it all started to come together in his head. Or so the Slytherin boy assumed.

"Oh really? You know my family have been patrons of the arts for as long back as anyone can remember. At my family's estate there are paintings on every free bit of wall space. Not only that, but my mother is a painter herself."

He turned his head and looked out on the expanse of the lake. It was incredibly picturesque. The water looked still despite the breeze. It was easy to see why anyone would come down to the edge of the lake. He looked back towards Addison with a knowing look.

"She actually taught me quite a bit about painting. Not that I'm all that amazing or anything."

Addison couldn't help but to smile, when she noticed that Warren looked away during her little jump from the tree. She wasn't one that desired unwanted attraction from others, and wouldn't have jumped if she wasn't wearing leggings. In her clothing choices, she was more conservative than other girls her age. But, it felt nice to think that he was willing to give her some form of respect.

Nodding her head at Warren's admission, Addison glanced at him. "So, I'll take it that your blood's not pumping enough yet?" she asked with a small smile. That was exactly the reason why she liked to dress warmly when it was cold after all. She wasn't a Qudditch player, so it wasn't as if she had the experience of playing outside in the deep chill of winter.

"Oh, your family must have a quite extensive art collection at your family's estate. There must be a diversity in the paintings then. I like art a lot myself, as I like to picture the scenes or objects depicted in the artwork in my mind. It's rather peaceful and mesmerizing," she chose her words carefully, not wanting to admit being an artist.

Turning her head to glance at the lake quickly, Addison couldn't help but to smile at the scene in front of her. It was a rather enjoyable scene, both in the winter and in  the warmer months. No matter what time of the year it was, the lake always looked very beautiful. It was almost always the perfect place to sketch or paint what was going on at the moment.

Looking back over at Warren, she smiled at his admission. "Oh, really? Don't be so humble. I'm sure you make wonderful pieces of art."

"I got my temperature up nice for a while. It's the blasted wind that's doing me in now. I didn't notice it so much when I was running. Now that I'm not, I am acutely aware of just how bitter the wind is today."

Warren walked back over towards his log, and placed one foot up on it. He ran a hand through his damp gold curls, and his eyes seemed to take on a distant look. In his mind's eye he pictured the Neifion estate. He thought of the long corridors filled with art, and he thought of the warmth that seemed to permeate through the entire household. He chuckled to himself, then turned back to Addison.

"There is indeed quite a bit of art housed at my family's home. The art is mostly of the classical variety. Not a lot of modern stuff. I personally go more for the old stuff myself anyway. I like a nice portrait, I'm not one for paint just chucked at a canvas. I guess I don't really get it, maybe."

He nodded along with the younger girl when she spoke about picturing the art in her head. Warren had often done the same thing himself. More often than not it was when the painting didn't move, which wasn't all that often. Still, he understood where she was coming from.  He followed the girl's gaze back to the lake again. It really was a transfixing sight.

"I'm alright with painting people. Portraits are mostly all I do. A face holds so many stories. I'm sure I wouldn't be awful at landscapes and such, I just never really have given it a shot. Not in the same way."

Addison nodded to Warren's admission. "Yeah, it is the kind that's both cold and blustery. Can I be of any assistance to help you become warmer?" she asked with a slight concern in her voice. Arguably, if it was her standing outside without a coat when it was so cold, she would probably be swearing her head off by that point.

Readjusting the bag that she was carrying on her shoulder, Addison shoved her gloved hands into the pockets of her coat. When she first saw this older boy, she never would have guessed that their conversation was going to end up with art. It was a favorite topic of hers, which was why she enjoyed it so much. At the same time, she wasn't too enthusiastic with the public display of her art. It stemmed more from her lack of self-confidence.

Nodding her head as Warren noted the presence of more classical pieces of work, the fourth year smiled. "I like the classical paintings as well. They just seem so simplistic, almost like photographs. But, the newer stuff, the more abstract type, are more imaginative. Aw, chucking paint at a canvas is just so much fun, and it creates endless possibilities."

"Yes, the portraits are usually fixed at someone or something. I'll guess that you have many different subjects for your portraits, instead of just one person? Oooh, landscapes are just so peaceful, and less likely to move," she gestured out to the lake, "just like the mesmerizing lake in front of us. It is truthfully a beautiful scene to capture, especially at sunrise." She spoke, clearly, from experience.

"I'll be quite alright. The cold doesn't bother me so much. I mean you won't find me swimming in that beautiful lake or anything. But A little chill in the air won't kill me. Even if I think it might be trying its hardest to do so. It's the legs really. I should invest in a pair of longer pants made for exorcise. As is, I mostly just have these shorts. I'm not worried though. The worst that happens is a little frost bite on my ears and knees. Nothing a trip to the infirmary won't cure."

Warren straightened up and looked around. He was on the look out for a good place to deposit the log he'd removed from the edge of the forest. He didn't think it would be a good idea to leave it down by the beach. Someone could trip on it, or it might end up in the lake. That would be a travesty, the log was perfectly formed for his purposes. He reached down and picked up the big piece of wood. He carefully slung it over his left shoulder, swinging it wide to avoid taking out Addison.

"I can see where more modern art could be fun to create. I just don't get it. I wouldn't say the old stuff is simplistic per se, just very focused. Some of the muggles in the past seemed like they could almost cast magic themselves with painting. The way some of them come alive. The details hidden in some paintings are astounding."

Warren smirked at Addison. The Slytherin boy was positive that Rockwell was either sketching, or preparing to sketch when she was up in her arboreal hiding place.

"I've painted a few people at this point. My father, my mother, my grandfather, some of the help around the estate. It's just something I enjoy from time to time. Although I haven't touched a brush in a while now. The lake is very beautiful. It's addicting to look at it. Is sunrise your favorite time to draw the lake?"

"Alright, well, as long as you are okay with it. I mean, I personally am not a fan of being incredibly cold like that, and I would think that the frost bite would be uncomfortable. But, it sounds like you have done this before, so what could I possibly know about it? You must have had experience with it," Addison responded to him. She wasn't aware of Warren's personality after the short conversation that they had so far. So, she wasn't able to judge if she should attempt to help anymore. In that case, it was probably best for her to drop it.

When Warren slung the log over his shoulder, and away from the pair, Addison was slightly taken aback. She didn't think that he was about to do that. Of course, he probably didn't think that she would have carelessly jumped out of the tree, like she had done not too long ago. So, the surprises seemed to counteract each other.

"Yeah, well, I meant that it was simplistic in the sense that a scene, or person, or object must have been observed while painting or accurately pictured to create the art. Traditional art isn't completely random and out of the blue like some of the more modern art. The painters really knew how to capture the scenes very well and with a good precision," she agreed with a nod.

The young Ravenclaw couldn't help but to give a small smirk at the Slytherin's question. "No matter when you have touched a brush, I'm sure your art looks just fine. Whether or not it is good is based on opinion, and if the beholder likes your style of art. Now, I never said that I drew anything, how could you even make that connection based on what I said?" she asked, not completely denying the fact that she indeed sketched the lake at one point. It was more of a question for her gauge whether or not she had to learn how to lie better, and if she had to learn how to make arguments about art that didn't lead immediately to the thought of her being an artist. She could have sworn that she chose her words carefully enough to keep the conversation away from her, and her artwork. Apparently, she was wrong, which wasn't something that she was willing to admit out loud.

"I guess I misread the situation. I thought I pieced it all together rather cleverly too. When you add up the knowledge of art, the book of some sort I think I saw you with in your perch, and the just spectacular view of the lake, it all came together in my head that you must be sketching. I of course could be wrong, it would not be the first time, hopefully the last time though. If I'm wrong I apologize for making guesses as to what you were doing. Next time I will make the effort to not judge a book by its cover. Or in this case, a girl sitting in a tree by the view from her seat," Warren said wryly.

The Slytherin shifted the log from his one shoulder to the other. He was amused by the confusion that seemed to be coming up from the situation as a whole. He ran his free hand down the side of his face. His skin felt clammy, and the stubble on his face was slick. Warren pondered whether or not Addison was right about it being too cold for him in his shorts and jumper. He decided that she might be.

"So what house are you in? I figure you're not a Slytherin or I'd of seen you before," he said while turning back towards the castle, "I think I'd peg you for a Gryffindor. If I'm off don't take it too much to heart. I thought I was a Hufflepuff for the first two years I was here."

As Warren explained his logic to her, Addison flashed him an innocently sweet smile. If hiding her art was incredibly important to her, she could definitely twist his logic around. Everything he listed could have been just mere coincidence, which have led to her not being an artist. As it turned it, the facts all did into his line of logic, for the most part. "I was not up in the tree sketching the lake ... currently," she responded. That was definitely a true statement towards her current situation. She had been looking at her past art, not drawing a new piece of work.

Her desire to hide her artwork was less about actually deceiving someone. It was more about her lack of confidence. While she didn't think her work was bad, she questioned if anyone else would actually like her work. She worried that anyone that looked at her art would think that it was crap, and dismiss it as a second rate half-attempt. When she showed her work in Ancient Runes, there was a positive reception of her artwork[1]. It certainly made her feel good, but it was only a small subset of the whole school population. Who knew what everyone else would think?

Addison smiled at Warren's question of what house she was in. "Oooh, Gryffindor's your guess, huh? It's a good guess, but no, I'm not a Gryffindor," she pointed towards her Ravenclaw scarf, "I'm a Ravenclaw, and I don't mind the guess. You only just met me as some crazy and confusing girl that jumps from trees. I'll guess that you're a Slytherin, based on the first eliminated explanation that you just gave?" she asked.

1.	Ancient Runes Presentation

"Not sketching currently, you say. I think now you're just purposely obfuscating the situation," Warren responded with one of his sandy eyebrows cocked,  "But at this point I think I might be coming off like a paragon of being nosy. Which is not my intention. I can assure you normally I am a much more stoic individual. It must be a mixture of all the blood rushing to my head and the talk of art. Maybe the cold air is slowly freezing my brain. Or perhaps I just don't have very many chances to talk about art, what with my schedule and lack of classically artistically inclined friends. It was hope that got me."

Warren tried not to smirk too hard after his short tirade. He was prone to fits of purposeful over exaggeration, and absurdity. He mulled over whether she was feeding him Welsh Black poop. Ultimately he decided that it was her prerogative whether or not she wanted to share about being an artist. His belief that she was at least a doodler had been initially shaken by her original comment questioning why he had asked if she was sketching. However, her last comment instilled new faith in the belief she must at least spend some time creating art quite firmly. It became clear though, that she did not want to talk about her own work.

"Yes, a Ravenclaw scarf. That should of been a good indication that you were in Ravenclaw. Not a lot of Gryffindors making their way around the school in the trappings of the other houses. I myself am indeed a member of the great house Slytherin. It's dank, but has an excellent view of some of the more exotic fauna that Hogwarts has to offer."

When Warren mentioned her obfuscating the situation, Addison giggled and shielded the amusing look on her face with one of her gloved hands. Since when did she obstruct information in such a way? It was totally not like her alright, especially when dealing with her artwork. "I'm not denying you information. By all means, I was only just following your line of logic. You have learned that I was not sketching up in the tree, that I do like sketching, and that I like art. You know that I'm in Ravenclaw, and that I never gave an affirmative or a negative answer to your first question. Quite frankly, I think I have been helping the situation," she lightly teased, not being able to hide the smile from her face. "And, I'm the one egging it on here, so you aren't acting nosy."

With the way their conversation turned, Addison could correctly assume that she was still able to twist the information around to hide her artwork. Warren had only made a logical conclusion, which she then twisted clearly on its head with such a simple question that didn't reveal anything else. Yes, it confirmed that she was able to choose her words correctly, at least in this instance.

"No worries, I don't try to scamper around the castle dressed in another house's clothes. I'm proud of my house, and the fact that I'm in it," she responded proudly. At the mention that Slytherin apparently had an excellent view of exotic fauna, she looked curiously at Warren. "Exotic fauna? I hope they're enjoyable types. Are these closer to the lake or the gardens?"

"Lake beasts. The view from where my house is has lake beasts. It's rather interesting to get to see what exotic things lurk around beneath those picturesque waves. You look out at that water, and the view is so breath taking. One doesn't even think about how once you start traversing your way deeper into the murky water, that all sorts of strange and awesome things make the depths their home. I've always loved the water. I grew up on the coast myself. But alas, the season for swimming is past."

Warren turned and took a couple of steps back towards the castle. He eyed about for where to drop his log. He spotted an area towards the front of the great entrance to the castle. He turned back to Addison again and bent  his knees slightly to avoid them locking up.

"Maybe you'd like to talk about art again sometime? Or maybe you know more people who are into art. Does this school have an art club? If not I'm sure we could gather to us a group of other artistically incline students who wish to spend their time talking about the finer points of brush hair thickness and varieties of paint," Warren half joked.