[6.30 am]

Any of Kit's fellow students that were concious between the hours of 6 and 7 in the morning, would be treated to one of Hogwarts' rare sights. Kit Branwell in trousers. The rest of it: the early morning extercise, the suit of armor she had magically transported into the common room, the clang of the metal fencing foil on the empty breastplate, that was all normal. Sometimes Kit practiced her fencing in just her day clothes; her skirts were always loose enough and her tights always opaque so no danger of flashing anyone. But, she never wore trousers except during these early morning sessions at Hogwarts.

Kit circled the suit armor, which towered over her by at least a foot, minding her footwork, which had been slipping of late (she blamed the lack of a good sparring partner). She wasn't wearing her uniform helmet because she was the only one with a foil. Her dark hair was held back by virtue of tying the two front sections back, leaving teh rest of her obsisian hair to flow free and down her shoulders, where it contrasted starkly against the whiteness of the fencing outft.

Kit lunged, scoring a hit on the armpit, and skittered back again, as if the knight was a real opponet capable of a counter attack. Perhaps the Transfiguation or Charms professors could help her make it move, just enough to dodge attacks. She was in her O.W.L year; surely she could handle that level of enchantment.

She lunged again.

Grace Eddy yawned as she straightened her robes and plodded down the stairs from the Gryffindor Tower and entered the common room. Yes, it was a tad early for her considering her classed didn't start until close to noon. She could sleep in for an hour or two and still not even come close to being late for a class. But the redhead was usually up early putting last minute touches on her homework and projects for the upcoming day.

Thus, tucked neatly under her arm was a stack of books and some parchment. When she entered the common room, she saw the often familiar site of Kit Branwell practicing her fencing. Early on in the month Grace usually came in during the tail end of the girl's sessions, but lately Grace found herself getting there more towards the beginning. She would slip into one of the many over sized chairs out of the way and pretended to get to work.  Whether Kit realized it or not, Grace was more than a little intrigued by her morning ritual.

Ever the tomboy, Grace was naturally interested in anything athletic. Having grown up with an older brother who had played Cricket and had gotten her into watching the famed Ashes tournament, this had naturally translated into an affinity for Quiddich. And now as Grace watched the fluid movements of her housemate, she secretly felt that she would like Fencing as well. She was tempted to ask Kit to show her how to do it, as there was only so much a person could learn from watching.

And Grace was certainly a studious observer. So much so that at one point she was no longer paying any attention to her work and her brown orbs were riveted completely on Branwell and the suit of armor.

When Kit lunged again, Grace bit her lip and then curiously asked, "How long have you fenced?" Flushing a bit, she added, "That is how you refer to it, right?"

There was no better way to feel out the sleeping patterns of one's housemates than being up with the sun. And the feeling was: her housemates were lazy lay-abouts. Ah, that was a bit harsh. But seriously, that anyone could ever possibly oversleep and miss breakfast confounded Kit greatly. Of course, this was the girl who woke up at 5 in the morning every day (even on weekends) to do two hours of exercise before breakfast.

But thankfully, there were also a fair amount of students that did have the sense to get up at a reasonable hour, and Kit was always gad to see other faces in the common room during the morning hours.

Kit noticed her older housemate enter the common room and do some (presumably) school work. Kit never really looked that closely; it was rude to pry. She had however, noticed that Eddy seemed to be showing up in the common room earlier and earlier. This, coupled with the whole getting to work early bit, put Eddy in good standing in Kit's mind. Even if the whole tomboy bit confused Kit to no end. Why any sensible girl would want to be 'one of the lads' was beyond her.

How long have you fenced?

Kit righted herself from her post-strike positioning and turned to look at her housemate. Oh course, she would never had done so if she was dueling a proper person (like her sneaky sister) but the suit of amour wasn't about to have a go at her back while Kit was turned away.

"Yes, that's the right word," Kit said with a small smile. She paused, thinking about the question. "Well, let's see, I think I was about six or so when I started, so around nine years."

Grace grinned as Kit returned that her phrasing had been correct in referring to the activity. She slipped her finger in between the pages of the book she was reading to keep her place and carefully closed it. She sat up a little straighter in the chair at first and then shifted herself altogether so that her legs were curled underneath her and she was essentially sitting on her haunches (and more than likely, very unlady-like according to her present company).

Grace became even more interested and excited when Kit spoke of participating in fencing for nearly a decade. To her, that sounded pretty amazing, even if she had no idea the skills required to do it. Surely they were comparable to those needed to play Quiddich. In fact, from what it looked like, this "sport" required quite a bit of mental acumen, something that was right up her alley.

Grace's eyes lit up and her excitement caused her to exclaim something that she usually only said when she was around other members of the Eddy family, mainly because it was so....unusual. "Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit!" Realizing how strange a comment that was, she tinted pink and she drew back, immediately attempting to reserve herself again. She quietly breathed, "Nine years? Wow. That is sooo cool...."

Eddy's sitting position did not escape Kit's notice, though the fifth year declined to comment on it. She wasn't good enough friends with Eddy to critique the way she sat. Kit  always sat straight-backed with her legs crossed at the ankles, but time and maturity had taught her that not everyone had the benefit of having  former finishing school instructor for a grandmother.

It didn't stop her from noticing those things right away though. In fact, if bad sitting habits and posture were snitches, Kit would probably be the world's best Seeker (which, on second thought, would be a moot point since she hated the "sport").

But Kit had barely anytime to contemplate Eddy's sitting technique when the older girl gave Kit something new and even more stunning.

Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit!

Ki blinked several times in quick succession. Butter her....Oh heavens, Kit didn't even need to think about how unladylike it was to refer to one's bum in passing conversation. There was already too much wrong with the sentence. Maybe she was missing something? Some sort of Muggle thing perhaps that wouldn't come up in her limited interaction with the Muggle world. Should she say something about jamming her...ah, no. Absolutely not. But really, how should she even begin to respond to that.

Luckily for Kit, Eddy wasn't going to make her. The ginger girl blushed, making Kit think that maybe it was a strange thing on her end as well. Or Kit's confused look had shown a little too strongly on her face. Either way, Kit now had something she could work with conversation-wise. She decided to ignore the biscuit bum butter bit.

Kit smiled again to Eddy, blocking the buttering of biscuits from her mind. When in doubt, a little tact goes a long way. "Yes, well my mum and dad were very insistent that their children actively participated in at least one sport from a very young age. I took a strong enough liking to fencing that I wanted to keep at it and so here I am. Have you ever tried it before?"

Grace should have known that her choice of words would garner some sort of shocked expression from her younger companion. And for once, she cursed her Muggle roots for being the cause of it. It was a phrase her mother had used, along with a dozen others, over the years that had managed to weave their way into her own lexicon. No matter how much Grace tried to control it, they always managed to somewhow slip out.

Grace was sure that by now her face was beat red and she ducked her eyes to the floor, not having the courage in that moment to see Kit's reaction, certain that she would be looking at her as if she had five heads.

Luckily, enough time finally went by and the conversation returned back to Kit's participation in fencing, and Grace was extremely grateful for that. Finally looking up again, Grace responded to Kit's inquiry about ever having tried it. "Actually, no I haven't. My brother was always into the more....physical sports." Grace glanced over at the foil and the armor, a look of longing in her face already. "It looks like a lot of fun...."

When Grace turned beat red shortly after her interesting exclamation, Kit assumed it was because too much had shown on her own face. She was going to have to be more careful with her facial expressions. Even so, Kit decided not to comment on it and save Eddy further embarrassment.

Instead, Kit took a few swift steps o take her closer to Eddy. Since they were engaging in conversation and all, it was silly to just speak at each other from across the room.

At Eddy's comment about her brother in more physical sports, Kit arched a single eyebrow. "More physical?" Kit asked, "Like wrestling or football?" If Eddy said Quidditch, Kit's nose was going to twitch. Quidditch was not a real sport, physical or otherwise. All the work was done by brooms with the wealthy having an almost irreversible advantage. It was an activity, not a sport.

"It is a lot of fun," Kit confirmed at Eddy's last statement, a slight smile forming on the brunette's features. "I have some spare equipment, if you'd like to give it a go."

Grace was relieved that the conversation was turning to other things besides her unusual choice of exclamations. When Kit asked about her brother and his choice of sports, Grace was forced to clarify. "Definitely not wrestling," Grace said with a shake of the head. "Cadan does like football (soccer) but his favorite sport is Cricket." Grace was oblivious to her housemate's dislike for Quiddich, but it wasn't a sport she would connect with her brother anyway given that he was a Muggle.

Still, it didn't take long for talk of any of the other sports to die away and full focus turned to fencing again. When Kit suggested giving it ago, Grace's face lit up and she nodded in excitement. "I think I'd like that....a lot actually." In an effort not to look too eager, she then added, "As long as you wouldn't feel put out by showing me, that is."

Hmm, football and cricket. Well, Kit supposed that wasn't that bad. Actually, she quite enjoyed the two sports and football was a fantastic workout provided you could get enough people. There was a reason independent Kit didn't play many team sports.

"Those are fun," Kit said lightly, "though I don't know if I agree with the more physical part. Maybe more football, since it can be a very demanding game, but fencing is very physical and requires a great deal of intellect and fast thinking."

Oh yes, she was very proud of her sports and how wonderful (she thought) they were. And she was more than happy to share their wonder with other people (and hopefully gain someone besides her sister as a sparring partner).

"Oh it's no trouble at all," Kit assured the other girl, "Like I said, I have spare equipment with me and they say there's no better way to solidify what you know than teach it to someone else."

She flipped the foil over in her hands and handed it, hilt-first to Grace. "You can give it a go now if you'd like, since the...ah...'training dummy' is all set up," Kit glanced wryly at the suit of armor before looking back at the redhead again.

Another advantage of her choice of sports and partners was that Kit got very, very, good at magical repairs.

"Yes. They are fun. I don't admit to being an expert at either, but with an older brother, I learned enough to be adequate," Grace informed her housemate. "Well, that and enough to earn the respect of his friends too who were playing." Grace glanced over Kit and was well aware of her lady-like ways (the current situation not withstanding). Grace inwardly admitted that she was a little intimidated by Kit's demeanor in that regard. Grace had never been known to be the epitome of a lady. She had always been a tomboy....just one of the guys. She was comfortable with that role, but around someone like Kit, Grace often felt like she was somehow less of a person.

Pushing those thoughts to the side, Grace listened to Kit speak about fencing and how it was both physical and a thinking "sport". Grace's face lit up. A perfect combination for. Something to tantalize her competitive spirit and also her mind. Unable to keep that to herself, she said, "Sounds right up my alley. Gosh, I don't know why I haven't been turned on to this before...."

As her voice trailed off, the thought crossed her mind that perhaps the reason why was because she had been too busy over the years being pummeled in the more physical sports mentioned before. And just generally getting teased mercilessly by Cadan, she thought.

Smiling at Kit, she nodded matter-of-factly. "I promise I'll be a model pupil! Thank you so much for offering to teach me." Grace stepped a little closer as Kit offered her the hilt of the foil. She eagerly accepted and took a moment to gauge how the instrument felt in her hand--its weight and smoothness among them--and gently twisted her wrist a bit.

Finally Grace took her eyes from the foil itself and focused on the "training dummy". She already had so many questions to ask her instructor about how to proceed and strategy, but instead of asking first, she decided to just give it a go. The rest would come in due time.

Of course, Grace wasn't the most patient person in the world. And so she jumped head first into the activity, metaphorically speaking. With a quirky half smile to Kit, she jabbed at the armor several times and then inquired, "Like that?"

Kit nodded and smiled a bit when Grace talked of learning sports well enough to earn the respect of her brother and his mates. The prefect could relate, remembering fondly some football games she would play with some of the island boys when she was younger (of course, she always played in a tennis skirt).

Sounds right up my alley. Gosh, I don't know why I haven't been turned on to this before....

Kit’s smile widened at that.

“Well, sadly, fencing isn’t exactly up there in popularity with football or cricket, heaven only knows why, but it means that you’re less likely to even have the opportunity to play,” she explained. “And why I usually spar a suit of armor.”

Oh this was too perfect. Eddy seemed more than willing to learn about the sport and Kit could defiantly use a sparring partner in her own house. Nevermind that Eddy would obviously be a beginning level and Kit was defiantly not; it was someone to work with and that meant improvement and companionship no matter what the skill level.

“It’s no trouble at all to teach you,” Kit assured Eddy, “Honestly I’m delighted you want to learn.”

Kit wasn’t sure if Eddy would be up for starting right away, but apparently the redhead was, because she took the foil and went right into challenging the armor.

“Your stance is off,” Kit told the older girl when she finished. “Stand like this, with one foot in front of the other and stretch out your arm.”

She demonstrated as she talked, reaching out her hand as if she had another foil in it.

“You actually have a natural advantage because you’re so tall. You have a much longer reach so you can attack someone while they’re still out of range to hit anything except your foil.”

"I guess," Grace murmured in response to Kit's comment about fencing not being quite as popular as football and cricket. Then she flashed her housemate a quick smile. "But then, it's not hard for anything to be obscure in Gulval. It's kinda in the middle of nowhere and not much in the way of fads ever seems to get there." Then the redhead shrugged and with a look of longing in her eyes, she said. "But....it is very beautiful." Grace could never begrudge her upbringing completely. For the most part, she had not wanted for much. And that was what mattered.

To Kit, she brightened at the thought of something else challenging to do. Or maybe even conquer. Not that she thought she could somehow miraculously become better than Kit who had done it most of her life, but as a personal goal, Grace knew that she wouldn't quit until she knew everything there was about the new sport.

It had been the same thing with Quiddich. Grace remembered harassing good friend George Carter incessantly to teach her about it, displaying an inexhaustible enthusiasm and desire to learn. To do more and be more. Poor Kit had no idea what she was in for.

Knowing that she had already thanked Branwell already, Grace bit her bottom lip to keep from doing so again. For reasons not completely known to the older girl, Kit was just as enthusiastic about the endeavor as she was. Perhaps as long as it was a mutually beneficial arrangement, that was perfectly fine.

Grace felt a little awkward at first when she was trying the foil out on the armor, but to her credit she was determined and dove head long into the activity. No one else was around to make fun of her anyway and Kit's purpose was to help. Surely her feedback would be most useful.

As soon as Kit gave her critique, Grace focused intently on the dark haired girl's face. She then watched as Kit demonstrated the correct stance and once done, she set about mimicking exactly what she had been shown.

She barely heard Kit's comment in how her height was an advantage for her and instead was already focused on the armor again. She nibbled curiously on her lower lip and jabbed a few more time at her "opponent". Then she eagerly sought Kit's instruction again. "Is that better?"

When Grace talked about home, Kit smiled. She could understand perfectly.

"Sounds like my own home," Kit said, "Rousay's quite small and out of the way, not easy to get to for outsiders so if things change it's very slow in coming. It's beautiful as well. There's something serene about places like that, I think."

But back to fencing. Kit observed Grace's second attempt and nodded in approval.

"Much better," she confirmed. "Try it again, but be sure to tighten your arm muscles so your strike is sure. And don't hesitate to go all out on the armour; I usually have to repair dents in it after every session, so don't worry about damaging it."

That was probably the hardest thing to teach. Some people were just natural fighters and some were not. You had to have even just a little natural aggression in you to play a fighting sort of sport, otherwise you were doomed from eh get go. It was too early to see where Eddy would fall on the meter. She was a bit of what thy called a "tomboy" though, surely that would mean the chances were higher she'd be better at more aggressive things? Then again, Kit only had to use herself as a foil example to discount that theory.

Grace liked hearing about the lives of her classmates outside of school. There was a pool of individuals she wouldn't want to converse with even if she had been locked in the same room with them, but Grace still found herself interested in even her adversaries.  She often wonder what her life would have been like had she grown up as someone who had only ever known magic. But ultimately, Grace realized that while it was nice to think about, she appreciated her own roots too much to really want to be someone else.

"Are you Muggleborn?" Grace casually asked after Kit spoke of her home. It didn't matter what Kit responded with because Grace didn't mind if people were Muggles, halfblood or pureblood. But it did help give a little more context usually, especially when interacting with others.

Grace's attention was turned back to fencing momentarily as Kit gave her feedback on her second attempt. Grace felt the excitement of learning something new and doing it somewhat well. It helped her want to keep at it. And from what she could tell, Kit made a great instructor. She seemed patient enough and encouraging.

Grace nodded at Kit's insistence that she be more aggressive and she readily did so. She chewed on her lower lip in deep concentration and made a more forceful thrust, creating a notable dent in the armour. It wasn't anything amazing by any stretch of the word, but Grace thought it was a small victory considering now that it would be a dent that Kit would have to work out of the suit.

Grace grinned over at Kit and remarked, "This is pretty cool." She stepped back for a moment and not able to help herself, she asked, "So there are rules, right? How does one win?"

Kit shook her head when Eddy asked about her heritage.
“Half-blood, actually. My mother is pureblood and my father is muggle-born,” she clarified, “But my hometown is almost completely inhabited by Muggles. What of yourself?”

Based on Eddy’s comments and that her first guess about Kit was that she was Muggle-born, Kit was going to guess that that was what she was. But it was never polite to assume and so Kit would just ask her properly instead of carrying about some ill-concieved notion.

She watched her housemate try again for the armor, nodding with satisfaction at the noticeable mark left in the armour. It was too early to tell for sure how well Eddy would do with fencing, but so far she was off to an excellent start.

“In a standard match, you need to score five points to win,” Kit explained when her housemate asked.  “You get a point everytime you land a hit on the torso area, at least when the match uses foils. There’s slightly different methods depending on what weapon is being used. For a foil, you have to strike the torso, a sabre above the waist and for an Épéé…” Kit grinned, almost devilishly (for Kit anyway), “Well anywhere’s a valid target.”

Three guesses which one was her favourite weapon to use. A foil was good for precision training, though, which is why she usually just took her foils with her, even though both her and her sister liked to spar Épéé-style.