Lua Taylor loved Saturdays.

Really, she loved every day, but Saturdays were especially special.

Not that she was special for thinking so. All around her, signs of students in lust with the weekend shone like her father's illegal bonfires in the back garden back home in their cramped London row house. And lust it was-- for them. The weekend had a way of falsely advertising itself as a lasting thing, when often it was the brief panic before homework was due. Surely tomorrow night (or more accurately, Monday morning) would be full of her housemates huddled under their duvets, poring over schoolbooks with lumos'ed wands and contraband bottles of butterbeer. But today, homework was a Banished thought. Saturday was for late breakfasts that turned into lazy lunches, dipping one's feet in the lake while feeding the squids sandwich crusts, and three-a-side games of quidditch in an empty stadium.

Lua, unlike most of her peers, also loved Sundays, and was thus aimlessly wandering a hall, grinning at no one after making plans for a not-especially-studious study session with Kelvin the following day. Something about the promise of a friend put her in a brighter mood as she dug in her bag for loose candies. When she came up empty handed, she did not frown, but instead tried the hidden pocket of the jumper she'd just peeled off-- and found the remainder of slightly-crushed breakfast pastries she'd taken while dawdling at Ravenclaw table.

The Gryffindor rounded a corner and let out an off-guard, giggly sigh as she nearly collided with the Grey Lady. She had talked the woman's ear off once or twice. Not that her ears were especially corporeal. But Lua, a champion of all peoples, even the dead, never brought up such things. So what if her ears were transparent? They worked perfectly well.

And yet, it was always a little daunting, when one accidentally walked through a ghost and met the chill.

Lua shrugged it off quickly, stepping back as politely as she could. "Hello, Lady! Are you enjoying the day off? Well, I mean, if it is one for you-- I suppose it isn't, since you don't study. Or teach. Have you thought about teaching? I bet you could! You know so much... centuries of things!" Lua's eyes glistened admirably. "If you taught a class, I would definitely sign up. Maybe next year? I'm going to be a sixth year, so it's a nice gap between exams. I'm studying with Kelvin tomorrow, though, since we've got OWLs coming up. You've taken them, right? Were they awful?" She waited long enough for the lady to blink affirmation. Lua took this for a yes, not wishing to prod her into chatting if she didn't want to. And yet, the Grey Lady was still hovering, and so Lua chattered away. "I think sweets would help. They should just hand them out-- and then something for after your sugar crashes. Maybe a protein would be better. Or hummus. Hummus during exams. A bit messy, but it could work. A picnic would be lovely today, I think. Perhaps you could have one and get Sir Nicholas to join you. I know he'd be very pleased. He doesn't think many of us like him, but we do. We adore him."

Jonah liked Sundays well enough. He, for once, didn't have any pressing homework, and felt like he'd done enough studying for one lifetime in the week previous. So, he had given himself the weekend off - yesterday he'd gone to Hogsmeade with Lydie Patil, and today he was just wandering the castle, thinking things over.

The thoughts that chased each other around Jonah's head were varied - he was thinking about his next meeting with Mairead and their continuing exploration of the dungeons, which led to him thinking about Watkins having caught them out after curfew that first time, which led to thinking about Watkins in general, which was frustrating for reasons Jonah didn't completely understand. They hadn't talked much in the last few weeks, not since... whatever that was. There was too much he didn't understand about his yearmate; it left him feeling like he didn't know how to communicate.

Jonah was pulled from his thoughts when he heard someone chattering away rapidly, and looked up to see Lua Taylor talking the ear off the poor Grey Lady. He heard her mention Kelvin's name - that's right, they were friends, weren't they? Maybe she could help. Or at least, maybe she could tell him what was going on from Watkins' perspective. If he'd even mentioned it to her.

"Taylor!" Jonah called as he approached, "Sorry to interrupt, but could I talk to you for a second?" He nodded politely at the Grey Lady, then tilted his head expectantly at Lua.

Eyes, hair, and limbs twirled at the pull of her surname, even as Lua was mid-tale, regaling the somber specter with excerpts from her last seventh-floor adventure involving Sir Nick.

“Jonah!” Lua chirped, delightedly, eyes finding the source as her disarrayed crown of brown hair swished dangerously toward a slumbering portrait (…and perhaps a bit through the Grey Lady). Lua seemed for the moment to forgot entirely about what she’d just been saying, and looked at the Slytherin as if he were her one of her best mates, or she his adoring house-elf.

“Of course!” Her grin was wide as a Hippogriff’s wing span. "I hope you haven’t been hunting for me, though, I’ve taken the long path today.” She said it as if there were only one long path, but Lua’s long paths (and short ones, for that matter) often bloomed like something sprayed with a strong fertilizing potion. They were ever-changing, full of distractions and discoveries, tapestries, treats, and friendly blind eyes to the smaller rule infractions.

And then, in sudden confirmation that she hadn’t, indeed, forgotten her previous conversation, she looked back to Ravenclaw’s favorite haunt. “The Grey Lady and I were talking about Sir Nick’s gallantry. I suppose your—” Lua thought of the Bloody Baron, and suddenly felt the need to tread carefully, out of respect for present company— “Some of your alumni friends are a bit more… reserved.” She had no desire to inflict bad memories, or get on the Grey Lady’s wrong side. Sensitivity was important to Lua, even if she was prone to flinging herself into conversations. “But brave in their own way.” She did not mean the Baron in particular. “Some Gryffindors are actually quite introspective.”

One simply wouldn’t know it, if one should step in to their common room at any random time of the day.

With a wary glance and ghostly movement of some sort that Lua took for a nod of acknowledgement, the lady floated off, disappearing into a stone wall some several portraits away.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Lua asked dreamily, before turning back to Jonah. “What can I help you with? Is it Muggle Studies? You aren’t in trouble, are you? I feel like I haven’t spoken to you in ages!” Mostly because she hadn’t.