1400 hours, outskirts of the Forbidden Forest


It did not please Raine Almasy to know that she was one of the select few who intimately understood the particular flavour of rodent blood. The lithe Caracal, no larger than a house cat, went scampering across the forest floor with a familiar feline scowl. Her paws treaded on fallen snow and fur bristled with annoyance at highland weather.

Small, wild creatures and castle mice were the extent of her pursuit. Any deeper into the forest would be dangerous- but still she had rather not have tasted the prey. It was an instinct better left repressed. 

As the prefect distanced herself further from the 'hunting grounds', a sound piqued her tipped ears and golden yellow eyes went searching. She slowed her pace, crouching and staring across the white. Nothing. It was clearly a person she was hearing though. Where were th--

Raine's gaze froze. There. In a tree. In a tree. Was that one of the Grimlish pair? Merlin, neither of those two knew how to do anything with a degree of normalcy. The Gryffindor strode towards the tree in question as she felt for magic within, hauling herself up into human form.

"Grimlish!" she called out once at the foot of the trunk, hand on her hip.

"Evie Grimlish! What in Godric's name are you doing up there?" The prefect squinted at the figure above; she was stark against the white winter sky. Perhaps one of the forest animals chased her up there- usually Raine wouldn't have bothered but Evie had been a friend of Sanya's before.

And she was a touch curious, at any rate.

Sometimes Evelyn just wanted to be alone – not because anyone was bothering her, but because alone time was a rare treat when you were stuck at a bustling boarding school. The castle was full of the bangs and smells of amateur magic -as well as the bangs and smells of teenage life - which made it an incredibly turbulent environment for a quiet, thinking type like Evie. Silence was one of the few sounds that had the power to send a shiver down her spine without even trying, so she found herself drawn to it, seeking out solitude the way a niffler sought out sparkle. She'd wrapped herself in her long, dark cloak, put on her good pair of adventuring boots, and crossed the threshold from chaos into calm.

It was snowing, but not heavily. Still, the two tiny fairies in her hair, who valued vanity above common sense, had accompanied her, wrapping their little humanesque bodies in tendrils of her hair for warmth. She decided, as she walked along toward the trees that formed the border of the grounds, that this might be a good opportunity to write in her diary. That was one of the benefits of keeping the shrunken book on a cord around her neck – she had it on her person whenever the mood struck. When she arrived at the spot, climbing a tree hadn't been a conscious thought so much as an impulse. It just seemed like a good idea, so she followed through, grasping branches with her gloved hands and hoisting herself upward. It wasn't the first time she'd sat herself in this spot. There was a bend in the thick branch, like it was meant to be a seat, and a smaller, hook-like branch on which she liked to hang her knapsack. It took no time at all to fish out an ink pen (an easy to transport muggle comfort for situations like these), take the wand out from where it was holding her hair back, and enlarge her diary necklace for writing. If she looked out ahead of her she could watch the snow as it fell on the castle. Her page didn't grow as damp as she thought it would. Between the thick branches above her and her own hunched form, the book was well protected. Evie had felt well protected, too. That feeling was always short lived, however. This was Hogwarts, after all, where 'privacy' was a dirty word.

”Evie Grimlish! What in Godric's name are you doing up there?”

Evelyn set her pen in the book's crease and shut it, glancing down below her at the figure who stood glancing right back up. There was always a second, upon looking at this particular girl, when her heart skipped – a moment in which she was sure she was someone else and then, all at once, she was reminded of the impossibility of of it. She felt the slightest bit ashamed, as though Raine could read her thoughts and knew she was hoping for Sanya. With a faint, exhale of a sigh, Evie called down. “I was writing,” she explained, her voice a bit soft for a shout – she was never much of a shouter. “It's really very beautiful up here, and quiet.” Well, it had been quiet, anyway. That lead her to question the obvious – if Raine thought Evie's presence was so strange, what was she doing standing at the foot of the same tree? “What are you doing down there?” she asked, with the briefest flicker of a smile, which vanished just as quickly as her soft words on the wind.

The expression of Evelyn's face, as she glanced down, lodged a sharp stitch into the prefect's gut.

It had been almost two years now but she recognized that look and it still stung the way it did that school year after her sister had gone. The difference now was that it didn't take any longer than a heartbeat for her to work past the feeling. “I was writing,” the Grimlish girl explained and Raine rolled her eyes- hoping the Ravenclaw couldn't see.

Why write out here when they had a perfectly functional castle- and fireplace? “What are you doing down there?” her classmate asked and she couldn't help the catlike grin that followed, teeth showing. Her animagi abilities were no longer a secret, not since the Second Task, and there was some pleasure in not having to lie her way out of these conversations.

"Hunting," she called out in reply before slipping out her wand. "Hold on-" it was difficult to hear each other this way "- and don't move." The Gryffindor snapped her wrist in one gesture and thin ropes jumped out from the wand; she had considered twisting them around Evelyn but that didn't seem a courteous thing to do.

The ropes mangled themselves around a nearby branch and she deftly pulled herself up to a crook only slightly above Evie's spot.

"Merlin, I thought something chased you up here." Raine was a tangle of limbs as she folded her legs up into a comfortable position, shoulders braced between separate branches. "Are you and your brother always like this or am I simply extremely fortunate to witness these bursts of insanity?"

Oh, to be a cat, Evie thought wistfully as her ginger haired classmate explained what she'd been doing out on the grounds. How nice it must be to wander freely, to curl up where you like, and to be the center of everyone's admiration upon sauntering into a room! She couldn't help but feel a bit conflicted about the hunting part, though. Raine certainly didn't need to hunt to survive – not with three square meals served daily within the castle walls. A cat might need to hunt, in theory, but not this cat. Evie wasn't the sort to push her own agenda, and she had no interest in starting an argument, so she swallowed back her question regarding whether or not the gryffindor's whimsical foray in the woods had resulted in the death of some poor creature. She was content to believe it hadn't. A little bit of silent judgment on both sides was perfectly fair.

Raine had climbed up to join her in the tree in no time at all, which suggested to Evie that the other witch didn't think her perch was as bizarre as she'd initially implied. She made quite a production of getting up there, though. Climbing trees really wasn't as difficult as she'd made it out to be, with her brusque magical ropes. You'd think someone who'd come outside to transform into a primal, instinct-driven creature and cavort amongst the trees might be able to scale a climbing tree without such an intervention. Evie just watched silently, gently swinging one of her legs, which was dangling over the branch like a lazy pendulum.

”Merlin, I thought something chased you up here.”

“No,” she responded mildly, giving her dangling leg a kick to add some momentum to the swing, “I can assure you that I'm here on purpose. It's nice, isn't it?” she asked, glancing her way. Surely she'd understand the attraction now that she was experiencing it herself! “It's good, sometimes, to separate yourself from a place where you spend a great deal of time. When you go back it's different.” That always felt truer when the place you went was far away, and when you didn't go back for a long time, but she didn't have that choice at school. The stone walls were oppressive, and some days she swore she could feel them bearing down on her. Evelyn Grimlish didn't do well in captivity.

”Are you and your brother always like this or am I simply extremely fortunate to witness these bursts of insanity?”

“Are we always like what?” she asked, genuinely perplexed, her eyebrows drawing together for a second's time. “Has he done something?” The true beauty of the equally peculiar Grimlish twins was that they both thought the other one odd. Elijah drove her mad as often as he delighted her, and it wasn't rare for some outlandish action of his to influence Evie's reputation. She turned her head and glanced toward the castle, as though she expected to catch a glimpse of him through a window. “I can talk to him, if he's been bothering you. It isn't usually on purpose. He's been going through quite a bit recently.” Hogwarts was a place with no secrets. Anyone who cared to know had probably learned about his recently manifested seer abilities. He was the last person she cared to gossip about, however, especially in this place, which was supposed to be outside the influence of the castle.

“I can assure you that I'm here on purpose. It's nice, isn't it?”

Raine was still glancing about, taking in the high vantage point afforded by the tree, when Grimlish posed the query. She leaned back casually and wrapped her fingers around the branches to either side for support- gaze sliding back to the depthless winter sky while the other girl spoke. Paler than parchment up there.

"Rather makes me wish I could turn into a bird instead," the prefect commented. "I'm partial to other forms of escape, I suppose." It wasn't her place to criticise Evie's method of release. "Can't blame you, the castle does grow tiresome some days."

One preferred to stay indoors during the colder months but the common room could feel stuffy, Peeves' usual cackle an octave too high for the nerves. Not to mention the seasonal wave of illnesses. Raine did not appreciate being assailed by sniffles and sneezes every time she turned into a corridor.

Evelyn's response to her quip was a touch confusing.

"What?" she let her gaze drift back down to stare incredulously at the Ravenclaw. "No, he hasn't done anything besi--" Raine stopped short and recalled promising Eli not to recount that whole business of summoning vampires last year. Odd boy. "He isn't bothering me, I mean. It was a jest. Or it would have been if you'd found your sense of humour in time-" she smirked. "Probably in the same nook as your common sense."

“I would love to be a bird,” Evie responded dreamily, gazing over the grounds as she shared a thought she'd had many times during her life. She inhaled the snowy air deeply, taking it in, and then let the breath out on a long, faint sigh. “I've always wanted wings, ever since I was very small. When we played outside, I sometimes liked to pretend I was able to fly, but that was before I knew about magic.” It seemed odd that there was a time before she was aware of the power inside of her, but she was once as oblivious as any muggle, catching her thrills by spreading her arms wide as she launched her little body off of the playground equipment while her minders had their backs turned. It all seemed so second nature now – she had the witchy, earth child vibe down so thoroughly that one might have thought she'd been born in a cauldron that was strapped to the back of a unicorn. As if to illustrate this quality, she absently lifted up one hand and, with a gentle flutter of her fingers, summoned one of the fairies adorning her hair to untangle itself from her long locks and come to sit smugly atop her fingernail. She studied its emerald wings as though she'd never seen them before, transfixed.

“I'd like to learn apparition as soon as possible,” she went on, her eyes still busy taking in the jewel toned segments of the tiny creature's miniscule wings. Apparition wasn't flight, but they both represented the same thing for Evelyn. Once she could apparate, she'd have more freedom than she'd ever had in her entire life. There would still be time for long, aimless trips on the knight bus, which she loved, but it would no longer be her only escape route. “I'm going to take a trip the very moment I'm able, by myself, and I don't think I'll tell anyone where I'm going,” she admitted, bringing her hand, fairy and all, back up to the crown of her head, so the tiny creature could continue to do the job it was fondest of in the world. It wrapped itself back up and then spread its wings wide, preening.

”No, he hasn't done anything besi-- He isn't bothering me, I mean. It was a jest. Or it would have been if you'd found your sense of humour in time- Probably in the same nook as your common sense.”

Evelyn bristled at those words, aware that she was being mocked but not entirely sure why, or what about. She went silent for a moment, gazing blankly ahead of her. She tended to retreat in these instances – when the world seemed to want something from her that she wasn't sure how to give. She just wasn't particularly witty, especially for a Ravenclaw, and so candid, teasing banter never came easily to her. After a spell of silence that was, perhaps, a touch too long to seem natural, Evie spoke. “I'm just not sure I understand what's funny,” she admitted stoically, unaware that she was only proving Raine's point with every syllable.