She found him in front of a rose bush, near a column wrapped in greenery.

"Tyr!"

Without waiting for him to turn, she moved as fast as her hurting feet would allow to stand next to him. Abby glanced at the white, crystallized roses he'd been studying and then looked back at his face. She smiled widely at the boy, energized by the excitement of the evening. Though Abby had been dancing for over an hour, she was not yet ready to sit still, and had come to the courtyard to socialize further.

It was quieter here, lacking the elegance of the Great Hall, but making up for it with charm and romance, as Abby would say. The lanterns warmed the outside area and glowed softly, making the snow glint where it had laced between the stones underneath her heels. The air smelled of pine and ruffled Abby's carefully curled locks.

Tyr's dress robes fitted him well, but they failed to stand out even against the snowy backdrop of the courtyard. If she didn't already know him, she might have overlooked him. Which was perhaps his goal.

"Magdalena must be somewhere snogging her date," she assumed with a giggle, warming her gloved hands underneath one of the lanterns. "Sasha's somewhere. I don't think he's snogging anyone though."

She hoped not.

Pushing the thought away, Abby focused on the boy next to her. He'd been hovering on the outskirts of Magdalena's group since the beginning of the ball. Abby, of course, had been in the thick of things. Out here, she felt like a loud, ruffled cupcake who had jumped away from the dessert platter only to bump into the solitary spoon. Not one for conversation, silverware.

"Did you get my owl?" Her voice sounded a touch too cheerful. She'd only sent it to him a few days ago, letting him know she'd be attending the ball with Sasha. It would have been more polite to ask him if he minded, but Abby knew she'd want to go no matter what he said. So she'd told him with her usual enthusiasm, hoping he wouldn't call her out on it. Even if she still felt a little bad.

Tyr had spent most of the Yule Ball  on the edges, trying to keep himself focused on one task and one task alone: Whatever Magdalena sent him out to do. She had evidently tired of him tonight, however, and so after being sent on what was clearly an impossible task she had moved away. Taking the silent rebuff for what it was, Tyr had fled the ball to the gardens just outside.

Crowds were not his thing. It was too easy for the sea of faces to make everyone an unrecognizable blur, to make their faces blank and their voices nasty whispers on the edge of hearing. He always felt that they were all looking at him, staring, knowing him for what he was - or was supposed to be. He knew it was cold fear that made it so, but could not control it. Crowds were terrifying to the quiet boy, and Magdalena had been the only thing keep him from paying attention to the blank faces.

Outside was better. The silvery rose bushes had been coaxed to grow with considerable artistry, and he had sat on one of the far benches to admire them, content to be far from the crowd as he could get. Tyr liked plants. Plants were simple, easy, and nonthreatening.

Abby's voice made him look up, and he smiled, though his smile was automatic and weak compared to the grin on her face. It was good to see her so happy, he supposed. Her letter had done nothing but confirm the odd talk he'd had with Mister Schlagenweit a week or so before.

"Miss Reid," he said, standing up and then bowing to her, properly. "You look well." An understatement; the girl looked positively radiant, her energy oddly infectious. "I got your letter, yes. I trust your evening with Mister Schlagenweit is going well, then?"

She looked well! Abby would have giggled at the mildness of the compliment if he hadn't taken such pains to be polite. Following his example, she curtsied, then glanced around at anyone who might have seen as she sat on the bench.

As she'd expected, he didn't call her out on attending the ball with another boy. Abby was almost disappointed. She might have tried to explain, but Abby couldn't tell if his proper manner masked some emotion or if he was merely indifferent.

"Yup! You can call me Abby, really. I call you Tyr, anyway," she paused. "Does that make me improper or refreshingly bold?"

She grinned again, not expecting a real answer.

"I am having a lot of fun though. It's good to see everyone. I've only been in the castle once before, and that was to decorate the Runes classroom because it was my sister's birthday. But I've never seen the Great Hall like this. This is the first I've sat down since the champions dance!"

Abby stretched her feet out, flexing her toes in her heels, and then crossed her legs. Her foot jiggled to the faint music filtering in from the Hall.

"Are you having a good time?" She looked at him with open curiosity. Would he rather be out here alone, or was shyness preventing him from participating?

Even bold Abby couldn't ask him that.  "How do Durmstrang dances compare? If you have dances. Hexing each other while moving your feet doesn't count," she teased, relying on the stereotype.

Tyr wasn't really sure what that made her. A bit of both, perhaps. It would depend who she asked, he decided; to him, it just made her Abigail.  "As you wish, Miss Abby," he said, with a slight incline of his head. He might drop surnames or even full first names, but dropping honorifics was unlikely. "I am not sure what it makes you," he added politely. "Though I should not ask your mother for her opinion on the matter, were I you." He smiled ever so slightly.

"It is good you are enjoying yourself," he said. "You do not get to see your friends often?" He asked, folding his hands in his lap. It made sense, of course; they were only out of the castle on Hogsmeade weekends. It must have been lonely for the much more social girl, though Tyr himself would have been happy with the switch.

He smiled quickly at her question and didn't answer for a moment. "The ball seems to be a success," he said, shrugging slightly and looking down. He fell silent again, then realized he wasn't speaking and should be; he straightened up and touched his forelock. "I apologize. I - this is my first such event. Dances at Durmstrang are...segregated, the realm of the Obertiels. The Zufrieden and the Dregs may not attend the proper affairs." And the ones they did attend, Tyr avoided. He looked over towards the bright doorway. "Such does not seem to be the way here. The social structure at Hogwarts is so strange." He liked Durmstrang's..to some extent. There, things were clear - don't mess with red, beat up on brown, ignore black. People became their uniform and rank first and themselves second, and that was fine with him.

"I don't see them as much as I would like, which would be everyday if I could arrange it," Abby smiled and shrugged, reverting slightly to the more polite manner that she sometimes used when speaking to older, traditionally-minded relatives. She didn't realize she was doing it. But he seemed so proper, unlike many other teenagers she knew - even Raine and Sasha did not talk so formally. Abby assumed it was a cultural thing.

"That sucks," Abby commented on the segregation thoughtlessly, then glanced at him, embarrassed for just a second. He probably didn't know what that phrase meant! Maybe? She could hope.

"I'm glad everyone gets to go," she told him with perpetual cheer, reserving judgment on his preference for solitude. "I love to dance. The last time I was at one of these things, it was a family function, and those are so boring. I had to dance with cousins. Do your parents make you attend things like that? Isn't it annoying? I'd much rather be around people our age."

"That is a shame," he said, shaking his head a bit. He'd have liked the solitude, but then, well...he didn't exactly have friends, did he? So it was the same either way, just with less kicks in the ribs. He'd have still traded in a heart beat...though Abigail at Durmstrang...

He looked at her. Even if she could use magic, they'd have eaten her alive.

He didn't know exactly what the term suck meant, in this context, and took the meaning instead from context cues like her tone and the judgement implied therein. "Yes," he said. "At Durmstrang, if you are not an Obertiel, you are nobody. But better to be a Zufrieden than a Dreg. Dregs are treated as the worst of the worst, you see. Teachers refuse them from classes and treat them as less than human, in many cases."

Tyr tilted his head, and chose to answer honestly. "My family functions are rarely dull," he said, "Though I agree that spending time with my younger relatives is preferred. The family's functions tend to be rather informal." By most standards. The combination of families had their own code - and the main one was what the Grummans said, went.

"Your own are formal, then? Like this?" He waved a hand towards the Ballroom.

Abby looked thoughtful and strangely somber at his matter-of-fact mention of Dregs. The very idea of the Durmstrang system bothered her. That level of elitism among those who had magic, going beyond even blood, seemed ridiculous and upsetting. If Dregs were considered the lowest of the low, what did that make squibs? Abby wasn't sure she wanted to know. But she couldn't help but wonder - what did Tyr really think? How did he feel?

She was distracted for the moment by Tyr saying that his family functions were often informal and never dull. If that were a positive thing, it sounded wonderful to her!

"Sometimes," she nodded.

"If it's just immediate family, then it's not formal. But when they invite a ton of relatives and friends and society people over, then they like to go all out and entertain, while still calling it a 'family get together'."

Abby paused, then confided, "Actually, the huge stuffy parties are better than the small gatherings. At least at big parties I can hide! I'm not sure what Aileen and I are going to do this year," she shook her head, keeping her tone light.

"All of my parent's attention will be focused on my sister and I, what with all the issues with my brothers," she continued vaguely, though he must know about Trevor's sentence in Azkaban. She was unsure if he knew about Simon.

"I know we're in for some nagging and lectures and blah blah. The usual holiday fun."

She smiled again, though she did not seem as happy as she did when she'd first bounded over. On impulse, she nudged his arm playfully.

"Maybe I can run away with you," she teased. "How cold is St. Petersburg at this time of year?"

Inviting herself over for the win!

Tyr nodded, glumly. He knew the pain of those types of parties well enough, he'd admit, but that was mostly due to him not being allowed to blend away into the shadows and hide. He assumed, despite her comment on hiding, that with Abigail it was probably more that no one really cared if she was there or not. Crowds weren't an issue for her - unlike him, she seemed to thrive in the bustle.

He did smile very slightly at her mention of the holidays with her sister; Professor Reid's dilemma was one he'd detected even in his only meeting with Abigail's parents. It hadn't been at all difficult to combine what he knew of Aileen's marital history with her mother's personality - and goals - to get a rather amusing image. Well...not amusing. Not in the way most would find funny, anyway.

"You could flee overseas." It was half a joke, which surprised him more than anything. "Your mother seems unlikely to put much effort into finding you simply for the sake of social gatherings. Australia is very warm this time of year, and very far away."

Tyr looked at her in surprise at her idea, the blush so automatic he almost didn't realize it was there. Gods, his father would skin him - and that wasn't really a fearful exaggeration either. He managed a smile so shy is seemed ready to flee at any moment.

"Er, very," he said. "We hole up in the mansion and do not go out much. I will not lie - it is terribly dull." He hesitated before he got the smile to stay. "Australia would be preferable, I would say."

Was that a joke? Was he playing along? Even blushing and smiling very slightly? Abby’s face lit up. Yay! Tyr had a sense of humor after all! She’d been worried that his focus on manners had stifled it completely. It still had not occurred to her that it might be more of a language barrier.

"Australia does have koala bears and kangaroos," she continued happily, as if that decided it. "I hear koala bears are cute, but crazy-vicious! I would say, like me, but I’d be lying. I’m just cute and cute. No claws," she held out one gloved hand and clenched her fingers, demonstrating, then laughed.

"See, if you're going to be bored at home, you should come with me to Australia,” she slid a teasing look at him. “We could go on a safari thing. Or is that just Africa? Hmm. I do know they have giant bugs. As scary as Acromantulas. But as long as you’re willing to squash them for me, I’m up for the adventure.”

Abby glanced down at his shoes. “Wear sturdy boots. I’ll bring a heavy purse, just in case. We’ll be all set!”

She looked at him and giggled again, curious just how much he was willing to play along.

Tyr had heard koalas, on top of being vicious little buggers, tended to pee in an offensive fashion. He really hoped Abby didn't do that.

The thought of it, as strange and inappropriate and oddball as it was, made him smile genuinely. And then feel a bit bad for doing so, but...it was sort of funny, wasn't it?

He shrugged. "I believe the term applies to both, though the African option traditionally involves killing more things." On purpose, anyway. "Though Australia is supposedly more dangerous? Everything there is poisonous or some variant of vicious, apparently. Kangaroos kicking down walls and such..." Australian sounded fascinating, honestly. He wouldn't mind the heat when compared to Moscow's freezing temperatures, certainly.

He followed her gaze to his shoes. "Perhaps boots with spikes on, then?"

"Yup, definitely spikes." Abby glanced down at his shoes, then back at his face. Another joke! His wider smile made her grin more genuinely too.

"And I'll pack heavy things in my purse. You've got, you know," she flexed her arms and glanced at his suit. There were probably muscles under there somewhere!

"So you can carry it for me until I need it. You don't mind, do you?"

She said innocently, trying not to laugh and ruin it.

She seemed a bit more relaxed and open, and Tyr assumed this was a good thing. He felt awkward joking about, as much as he told himself it was the bet thing to be doing; he wasn't quite sure what the rules to this game were, or how to get people to follow the right trail here.

He followed her gaze to his suit. There were indeed muscles under there, but not impressive ones. He was a bit thinner than was strictly healthy and his muscles tended to match that in proportion. Even so, he nodded, the nod turning into a half bow, the small smile returning.

"Of course," he said, having the presence of mind to keep his tone light. "What proper gentleman could, or would, do otherwise?"

Abby looked at him for a moment, then giggled. Despite joking around, she got the impression he would actually carry her purse if she handed it to him. Poor boy.

"So you're sweet and funny. Good to know."

Of course, she still didn't really know him. But that made her curious. In some ways he was easy to overlook around more dominant personalities, and she understood from his letters that his friendships, if she could call them that, were based on convenience and an established hierarchy. Which somewhat baffled her... he seemed nice. Just quiet, and isolated.

"Don't worry," she leaned back on the bench casually. "I won't drag you off to Australia." Or shove her purse at him. Amusement glinted in her eyes.

"But," she slanted him a look.

"We could hang out for a day over winter break, if you'd like? And if our parents don't object. I don't know what your plans are, and I'm going to be swamped, but not completely swamped," she shrugged. "Could be fun!"

Abby wasn't shy. Offering to 'hang out' with Tyr Brunn might appease her mother, which she would definitely need after going to the Yule Ball with Sasha. That was only a small part of why she was asking, though. She hadn't realized before tonight that he'd appreciate her sense of humor, unless he was just humoring her. Did he like her a bit, as a person? Could there be something there, if they got to know one another? That's what she wanted to know.

Tyr automatically flushed at her remark, unsure of how to take that. Even with the complicated games he played, people didn't compliment him. That was rather the point, really. But it was a nice remark, and the far more cunning voice in the back of his head reminded him that such remarks indicated this was working. But could it work if it wasn't an act or really a...plan...?

His brows furrowed. Hang out wasn't a term he'd learned, and he assumed it meant to spend time together - he'd heard it referenced in regards to the little village nearby.

"Hang out," he said, carefully, still not sure he was correct. "That's - to spend time together, correct? Casually?" He was clearly seeking clarification.

"I - the castle seems to be where I will be," he said, looking up at the frosty towers that vanished into siloette far above. "So if possible - I would like that, yes."

It'd be embarassing, yes, but it was also an excuse to get away from the castle and anyone wearing a red uniform. Tyr did not mind such excuses.

Abby nodded, trying not to be too amused by the care in which he rolled over those words, or the flush on his face. "Yup, casual."

He'd be staying in the castle! She hadn't realized, though it made sense. Following his gaze up to the towers, she thought about how much of the castle she hadn't seen yet, and how strange it was that he, a foreign student, must know his way around better than she did.

"Yay!" Abby smiled at him when he agreed. "Well make a da-"

She paused, not wanting to confuse him. Or herself.

"A day of it, then." Casual! She could do casual.

Abby looked at him curiously. His hair and warm skin tone seemed to blend into each other, nothing standing out too much, even against the leaves and flowers and snow-encrusted walls. Abby glanced at the plants, remembering he'd been inspecting those earlier.

"I could take you to the Kensington Palace Gardens," she offered, assuming he hadn't had a chance to see much besides Hogsmeade yet. "Or a general tour of London. Or anything else you'd like to do, really."

What kinds of things did he like to do? She didn't actually know.