Blake had agreed to meet up with fellow fifth year, Lua Taylor, to work on some spell practice. With OWLS not far off, Blake knew it was important to continue practicing and studying as the year went as opposed to cramming all the important things in at the very end before the exam date. He had been going back and forth on what he considered to be his ideal career path, so Blake wanted to have a good enough showing in all of his subjects so as to have many options available to him. His course load was more that some students, so that was sure to help. Still, missteps on passing scores had far reaching implications even if getting out of Hogwart's was two years away.

After dinner when they had free time, Blake made his way to the base of the Grand Staircase, his birch wand tucked neatly into the wand pocket of his robe and waited for his Gryffindor classmate to join him. Many others filed on by heading off to study in the library or dorms, or to engage in their leisure activities. When the swarm thinned out and Lua didn't appear straight away, Blake shrugged and started to pace a little bit, arms clasped behind him as he looked over some of the portraits hanging nearby. Damara Dodderidge's face immediately brightened as he approached as she remembered Blake as being a student who was also always very hungry like she was. Every now and then they would talk about delectable foods.

Blake waved and queried, "What's cookin', Damara?"

Her face contorted with despair and she bemoaned, "Oh I'm so hungry. It's been so long since I've had a good leg of lamb or any kind of succulent meat...." Her expression turned to one of longing and desire.

The Ravenclaw's eyebrows shot up at that statement and he could feel the heat rise to his face as he suddenly became very uncomfortable. Clearing his throat, he awkwardly managed to get out, "Oh....um....perhaps I could..." He stopped before he said the words 'help you with that' as it sounded like it would make things worse. Taking a deep breath, he tried searching for something else to say instead. Finally, he settled on, "Find Sir Cadogan to assist you?"

Having stuffed several biscuits and a sticky dessert pastry into the deep pockets of her lilac coat, Lua Taylor bounced out of the Great Hall and toward the main stairs where she was supposed to be meeting Blake.

Unfortunately for the latter, a meeting time was more of a loose thing to Lua, who had many lovely distractions in her path on the way. She detoured (in the wrong direction) toward the great hourglasses near the hall’s heavy front doors to peer at the gemstones that marked their points. If she was put off by any of the numbers, it did not reflect in her smile. Lua was an eternal optimist, and would find a reason to giggle at term’s end even if Gryffindor’s not-so-secret arch nemesis won. She loved a good Slytherin cheer almost as much as she loved a good Ravenclaw one.

Ravenclaw in particular seemed to tug at her heartstrings, though, and if she weren’t so thoroughly a lion in spirit (and absent of much common sense), she might have tried her luck at moving into their common room permanently, or at least holidaying there. They did have such a beautiful amount of sunlight. Moonlight, too, for her name’s sake!

She waved at suits of armor, who remained perfectly still, gargoyles, who did the same, and portraits, who slumbered grumpily for the most part as the crowd cleared for after dinner studies and food coma rest. Finally, she came upon Blake, who seemed deep in philosophical conversation with one of the many lovely painted ladies who adorned the school’s walls.

Lua leapt over a few steps, anchoring herself to Blake’s arm to keep her feet on the step upon which he stood, and leaned in toward his noble friend. She had only caught the tale end, about Sir Cadogan. “Oooh, have you lost something?” She asked as she let go of Blake’s arm. “He’s got a lovely pony.” It was the nicest thing Lua could say about the knight, and she felt a bit guilty for thinking it. He wasn’t quite a pacifist, though. But a thought struck her, and she grinned wide. “Is he your boyfriend?” Drawing her wand as if suddenly remembering something, Lua looked back at Blake with shrugging eyebrows. “I think he likes those stairs up near Divination, no? We could practice along the way…” Why not? “I’ve brought snacks.”

With her free hand, she flourished a biscuit with as much gusto as one might a sword (or a wand, if they weren’t as friendly as Lua), and jotted up a few steps above the pair. “Come on! This way,” she sang out, ignoring Damara’s hungry eyes on her dessert. “I bet the pony loves those landscapes on the third floor.” Lua came to the landing of the first, looking this way and that. She lead Blake to a narrow set of stairs to the left... which began to rumble in warning even as she planted one foot.