Winds were starting to slow down during the afternoon time. The sun was still heavy in the sky, baring down on a beautiful Spring day. It was the perfect weather for taking a broom and just having a round of flying around the pitch, letting the wind hit your face in all the right places and letting the sun soak your skin, warming you and giving you the happy feelings that summer is soon coming. At least for Brennan, it was a stress reliever, so any opportunity he had, he would take it.

He grabbed his broom, a newer version in the Nimbus series, and headed out to the pitch. He wore light clothing, and since his classes were completed, the uniform was messily splayed by his bed in the dormitory. He wanted the wind to hit every part of him, so naturally, shorts and a cut-off tee shirt were what he donned. Quidditch was hard enough wearing all that gear. He would rather have played the game in the clothes he was currently wearing.

At the pitch, he mounted his Nimbus and gradually lifted off into the air. He was ready to let the weather take over his being, let him feel what Mother Nature had in store for him today. The small gusts of wind batted his face, hard at first, but smoothed out as he got into a certain speed of flying. He felt the sun's rays patting his arms with warmth, giving him more of a tan than he needed, really, but he didn't mind. Now all he could use was some company, someone to enjoy this weather with him.

Bren's Clothing

While Waker had very little interest in contact sports, she knew a good thing when she saw it: perfect Spring weather and an empty stretch of land. The Hogwarts Quidditch pitch wasn't merely a prime spot for hitting quaffles and saving goals, but also for completing one's homework in peace. And now that the school library was officially overrun with slackers cramming for their annual exams, Waker relished the outdoors, the itchy grass and potential bee stings included.

Carrying a bag that had been charmed to hold a hefty stack of textbooks, in addition to a freshly starched French linen sheet and light snacks, Waker floated to the very center of the pitch, as it seemed the most serene. If it became too hot, she reasoned, she could always seek the shade of the stadium stands, or the trees bordering the forest.

Waker spread out her miniature traveling library-- about ten or twelve textbooks, a few scrolls of parchment, and pencil case full of quills and different colors of ink-- and reclined on her blanket to get to work. She had already completed roughly half of her Arithmancy essay in the common room, but it was only the first draft. She was so intent on finishing within the next hour or two, that she did not notice the person flying overhead. She had not even noticed him when first traversing the field, despite her supposed sense of awareness. As she scratched across her parchment, adding lines of fresh ink to the already-dry ones, she reached blindly for the bag of raw almonds she'd brought along.


outfit

The wind was happy against Brennan's face as he continued flying around the pitch. It almost spoke to him as he careened in and out between the stands, from proud red to vicious green. He couldn't understand how perfect the weather could truly be, and for once in his life, he felt blessed. Then again, this day could be better, and when he looked down, he realized that it already was. Blessed twice in one day, he might say.

A girl had walked onto the pitch and set up a little picnic work-a-thon as Brennan would call it. Not just any girl, though. No, this Ravenclaw beauty had attended school with him all six years thus far. He'd seen her sorted into Ravenclaw and had multiple classes with her. Though they never really talked much, nor had he seen her talk much to anyone, Waker Nolan was probably the prettiest girl in his class.

He watched from the sky, almost like a mother lion scanning her prey before she leapt and caught. Though, this wasn't exactly his strategy or intention. As he kept watch, he noticed she was reaching for something. From his limited sight distance, he could tell it was roughly bigger than a snitch, and probably something to snack on. With a smile forming on his lips, Brennan caught the right gust of wind and flew downward to snatch the item she was reaching.

In a quick swoop, his seeker skills helped him out, and he grabbed what appeared to be a bag of almonds. He swooped back around and presented the bag to Waker. "Hullo, pretty face. Is this what you were reaching for?" He smiled at her, teeth beaming, and his eyes wide with happiness.

Before Waker had even managed to properly grab the bag of almonds, let alone eat one, it had vanished from her touch. Paranoia washed over her as she felt the sweep of wind; she looked incredulously toward her school bag, all thoughts of essay-writing disappearing with the almonds. Quick as she was with spellwork, Waker hadn't even the time to raise her wand, because in another flash, the culprit himself was there in front of her. Beaming and speaking... and holding what belonged to Waker.

For a moment, the Ravenclaw could only gawk in a manner that was very unlike her usual range of expression. She soon closed her mouth and narrowed her eyes, however, raising her sunglasses in the process and setting them atop her hair. "What in the world..." Both hands shot to her hips. She felt like one of those clueless bystanders in a muggle superhero film, and it was not a feeling to which Waker was accustomed.

"No, I was reaching for the other bag of almonds," she replied, raising a brow. She did her best to ignore the 'pretty' comment, and was glad the sun gave her an excuse for colorful cheeks. She recognized the boy as Brennan Girard, seeker for Gryffindor. Waker wasn't a Quidditch enthusiast, but even she knew he was a seeker. (Delilah would be proud). He had also been in many of her classes throughout the years, which helped.

At last, the girl held out her palm, waiting for him to drop the bag, lest she attempt to grab it  herself and have it pulled away again. He seemed very capable. "That was impressive, but I think you should see the nurse about your eyesight, or possibly seek revenge for a Befuddlement Charm. Snitches are nothing like almonds."

At first, Brennan had thought he'd done a noble gesture. But then again, he stole from Waker just to give it back to her as a gift. Maybe it wasn't so noble? He was just trying to make conversation, and well, flirt a little. Afterall, how could not when the prettiest face in his class was sitting two feet in front of him?

"No, I was reaching for the other bag of almonds."

Kind of shocked, he sort of skidded backwards on his broom, his face somewhat downtrodden. He didn't expect that kind of answer from someone so pretty, but then again, muggle stereotypes cast pretty girls as rather vicious creatures in nature.

"That was impressive, but I think you should see the nurse about your eyesight, or possibly seek revenge for a Befuddlement Charm. Snitches are nothing like almonds."

Brennan almost heaved a laugh at the comment, but held it back. Instead, he went for a different approach. He smiled, and then leaned over on his broom, resting his elbows at the end. Balance was, afterall, very second in nature to him, so he could do this technique properly without hurting himself or Waker. "Well, almonds may not be like snitches. True. But it was the thought that counts." He tried to win her over. "I was wondering... it's such a pretty day and all, and well, I have my broom and the weather is perfect, once in a full moon really." He was hesitating. "I was wondering if you'd like to join me in flying? Now I know you aren't a flyer. But I'm a very safe flyer, and I wouldn't let you fall or get hurt. Promise."

Waker tilted her head, almost not believing that she had somehow caught Mr. Suave by surprise. But when his smile faltered, she had to wonder. Sometimes Waker's sardonic sense of humor could be off-putting, but she thought a thief (however gallant) who interrupted her study session deserved a small jab at the very least. Had he been less skilled, she might have afforded the time to use her wand... and then they'd be in a situation thrice as sticky.

As quickly as he seemed to have been fazed, the boy recovered his smile. Waker attributed it to the ever-perplexing boldness of lions, and wasn't sure whether to be impressed with or annoyed by his self confidence. "Yes, very thoughtful of you. I could have never lifted the bag all by myself," she retorted, smiling nevertheless.

The very last thing Waker expected, even from someone with the daring to turn her snack into a golden snitch without an hint of Transfiguration, was to be invited to fly. She blinked, opened her mouth to protest, and closed it again before shaking her head slowly. "The weather is fantastic, and I can definitely see that you're safer than a mini-van, but I have a... thing for the ground." It was dependable. She reached now for the almonds, deciding she would take the initiative. "But for the record, I wouldn't let me get hurt or fall either," she laughed lightly.

"I've lots of studying to do, too," she assured him, gesturing to her heap of books as if it absolutely settled the matter.

Knowing that his confidence was probably coming off as stereotypically masculine, Brennan was trying a new strategy. He wanted Waker to know that she was indeed beautiful, and that he wasn't a bad guy. Sure, a few Slytherins might think differently on the latter, but he really wasn't a bad guy and most everyone knew that.

"The weather is fantastic, and I can definitely see that you're safer than a mini-van, but I have a... thing for the ground."

He smirked at her. Typical girl. He almost thought of just grabbing her and taking her to the sky with him, but then she would probably brandish her wand and try to curse his face off. "I must say, the ground can be a fun place to be. But not for weather like this. I mean, you have to feel the wind, let the sun take you over. Not to sound cheesily poetic, but it is the truth, my dear."

"I've lots of studying to do, too."

This time, Brennan did laugh. "Oh, come on Waker." He hadn't actually said her name yet in the entire conversation. It had a nice ring to it in his mellow voice. "It's Saturday. You have another whole day tomorrow to study. Besides, what's ten to fifteen minutes of air time?" He smiled, though he knew his teeth probably weren't winning her over.

As Brennan smirked, Waker attempted to keep a somewhat blank face. If she got along better with Nina, she might even have tried her hand at that card game the girl was always hosting. Poker face, anyone? Waker curled her hand at the base of her facade, tapping her cheek with one finger as she considered his words. His resilience was almost surprising, even for a Gryffindor boy. She couldn't help smiling a little at his logic, particularly the phrase cheesily poetic, but tried pursing her mouth to hide it.

"But if I started running, couldn't I get the same effect?" She questioned, feeling the need to argue the point, if jokingly so. "The last time I tried flying, it was glorious out, but I think I felt more nausea than anything." Granted, it had been over a year ago, and perhaps not quite as nice as today. Also, the broom had been a terrible old relic from the school supply. Glancing at the handle of Brennan's, she assumed his was much nicer and probably less of a jolting ride.

The sound of her own name resonated in her for a moment; it was rare to hear people who weren't close with her (or else professors of some kind) speak it-- and there weren't many people close with her. She found herself almost wanting to give in, wildly enough, but the feeling was fleeting, and she bent to pick up her Transfiguration book in protest. She had to stay on task.

Smoothing the edges of her skirt, Waker proceeded to open the book at its center. "Or I could study now and enjoy my Sunday. Not that I don't find this perfectly relaxing." She reflected his smile, but hers was smaller and less obvious. She did not find joy in homework, not in the way or to the degree that people probably assumed, but it was something that had to be done, and Waker's compulsive nature would not let her rest until it was complete. "If you insist on sticking around, you're welcome to open a book. There's a chapter on transfiguring things that fly. Maybe you'll find it riveting."

He could tell she was almost giving in. His new methods of flirtation, if they could be called so, were advancing on the war front that was Waker Nolan.

"But if I started running, couldn't I get the same effect?"
"The last time I tried flying, it was glorious out, but I think I felt more nausea than anything."

A smile was somewhat forming on the edge of Waker's lips, or so Brennan thought so. It made Brennan happy to see he was getting through... sort of. "Oh, that's where you are wrong. Running and flying? No, no, no. Not the same at all." He managed to continue his balancing act, leaning forward on his broom, carefully watching Waker's next move.

"If you insist on sticking around, you're welcome to open a book. There's a chapter on transfiguring things that fly. Maybe you'll find it riveting."

He guessed he wasn't doing as great a job as he thought. He smirked again, and then let it turn into a frown. Keeping one elbow on the broom, he pulled his other hand up to his head to scratch, gesturing that he was thinking of a new plan. What could he do to make her break? Finally, he put both elbows back together, laying and balancing inches from the ground a top his broom. "Or, since I was here first, I could just do as I am, casually relaxing on my broom and staring at you studying."

"No?" She asked disbelievingly, knitting her brows just a little. "Well, maybe not... people very rarely plunge to their deaths while running." Unless cliffs were involved, but Waker found that all too unlikely. The fact that she could control what her legs did on the ground was also what drew her to a preference for jogging over flying. Flying meant putting a certain amount of faith in something else, something unknown. And that was not Waker's forte.

Brennan was very good at balancing on the broom. Just as he was talented at swiping things from high altitudes and at fast speeds. Waker privately felt that if anything happened to her in the sky, it would be her own fault, and not the Gryffindor's. This simultaneously added to her decision to stay on the ground, and made her wonder whether she was missing something. Maybe the few times she'd tried flying, she'd done something wrong. It was hard to admit, given that she religiously followed instructions.

Waker sank onto the sheet, folding her legs over each other, but found herself only staring face to face with the low-hovering Girard boy for all of thirty seconds before she stood up again. Sighing and rolling her eyes, she began to remove her jewelry. She laid it delicately atop her bag, along with her sunglasses, which she knew could only be destroyed on such an 'adventure'. "You are not watching me study," she assured him brazenly. It was technically as much a victory as a defeat, if she looked at it that way. Waker didn't work well with people watching her. Watching other people was a different story.

"If I do this, I get to hit the books in peace afterward," she stipulated, watching him suspiciously for any sign of trickery, but feeling somewhat excited nonetheless. Perhaps 'hit the books' had been a poor choice of words. Had she really just agreed to this? It was insanity! She hardly knew Brennan, and probably wouldn't let anyone short of Delilah convince her this easily. Waker didn't even have a life insurance policy in her name yet. "And a million points from Gryffindor if I die. At least."

It was a new art. A new sport even. People watching was something Brennan had probably more talent in than quidditch. Well, maybe not more talent in, but it came a close second. Honestly, boys weren't supposed to have much patience. It was either get-the-job-done-NOW or move-on-to-something-new-QUICK. But for some strange reason, Brennan beat the odds. His patience was that of a lion. Literally. And he'd even been known to sit and stare for up to three hours in a given sitting.

Finally, he noticed Waker was giving up. Ah, sweet, sweet victory, yeah, as the muggle song went. He leveled up, and was now sitting on the broom again, smile wide on his face. "Don't think of this as a victory for me. Well, I will. But you think of this as getting the pesky boy's one, sweet wish out of the way so you can... what was the word again? Oh, yeah, study." He laughed and winked at her.

"And a million points from Gryffindor if I die. At least."

He looked at her as if she was insane. "Sweetheart. I won't even let a fly touch you in the air." He moved back on the broom. "You'll need to sit in front of me." He gave her room and allowed her to try and graciously get on the broom, though he doubted it would be gracious, given her flying history, or so he'd assumed. He knew the next thing he was going to do was probably going the annoy her to the extreme, but it was the proper safety for a two rider situation. "And once you're on, I'll have to place my arms around you, and grip the front of the broom. Don't worry. " He sighed, expecting her to give him the look of evil. "I'm not going to flirt or whatever. It's proper safety, and I don't want you harmed."

The way he said it, Brennan made studying sound not only quite lame, but kind of useless. Waker found herself blushing, but she tried to save her grace. "You shouldn't think of it as a victory, either," she informed him. "I might end up being sick all of your pretty broom." Not a chance. Waker would probably stun herself before she would submit to the humiliation of throwing up on someone. "Studying is better than you give it credit for. Good grades, secure future, you know..." She smiled.

His promise to not let her be harmed seemed sincere and impassioned, and Waker was inclined to believe that he meant it. It was a shame that there were so many things that could go wrong when the ground wasn't under one's feet. Brennan couldn't control them all. Waker didn't trust the sky. The wind, she was sure, would become their enemy as soon as they took off. Perhaps a flock of birds, or worse, thestrals, would fly at them in an untimely migration south. She stared at the broom exasperatedly, but tried not to let this show.

Still unable to believe what she'd agreed to, Waker awkwardly got one lanky leg over the broom without falling or kicking Brennan, and looked over her shoulder so that she could barely see him in her peripheral vision. She was already clutching the broom for dear life, her wand squeezed under her thumb. Perhaps it was best he couldn't see her face, because it wasn't going to look very pleasant in a moment. Nor had her blush entirely disappeared. It became more prominent at the idea of the boy putting his arms around her. She frowned. "By all means, grope me, so long as you keep me from falling."

Watching her stumble her way onto the broom made for quite a show. Brennan had to stifle a few laughs as she put on leg over, and then cautiously took her place. He also noticed she had her wand firmly gripped under her thumb on the broom. Boy, she was nervous, indeed. "Oi. I'm going to have quite a secure future. Professional players earn a great salary. And who knows? Maybe I'll become an auror. Options are still open."

"By all means, grope me, so long as you keep me from falling."

At this comment, he had to laugh. He couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or begging, but either way, he assumed she meant a little of both. "Like I said. I wouldn't let such a pretty face get one scratch on it." He winked, though he doubted she saw it. "Or that wicked personality of yours, too." He coughed a laugh out before slowly kicking off, rising not so fast as to give Waker some insurance.

"And again, for safety, if you'll allow me." He firmly placed his arms around her, cushioning her tall frame between his biceps, and then he grabbed the front end of the broom tightly. "Ready?" He laughed. "Well, actually, ready or not, here we go." He leaned the broom upwards and took off, not fast, but at a moderate pace. He wasn't going to scare her. He wanted nothing of the sort.

This was his moment to allow her comfort in the sky. The wind whipped perfectly as he said it would. It brushed her hair into his face, though not annoyingly, but rather in lovely tufts. It smelled lovely, like a fashionable perfume from a Paris boutique. The sun was at the perfect angle, too, allowing just the right amount of shine to make her pretty skin glisten like crystals. He leaned his head forward, his mouth near her ear. "See? This isn't so bad now, is it?"

"You and Nina Morales both," she said with a witchy grin. She didn't doubt their abilities to play Quidditch, only the idea that there was no backup plan. It was dreaming big. Too big, almost. The Ministry was one thing. Professional quidditch was entirely another. But it seemed that Brennan did have a second option, and an extremely ambitious one at that. His confidence was again surprising. Waker should have anticipated it, but it shocked her that someone who seemingly did not worry about studying half as often as she wanted to become an auror. Maybe Waker invested too much time in her schoolwork... But how as that even possible?

Again, the pretty face comment. Waker didn't think she was repulsive-- she wasn't that dense-- but it rarely occurred to her that someone might take an interest in her face outside of its upkeep and presentableness. After all, it was usually stuck in a book, or staring indifferently at her peers, or glued to a professor on a podium. Which was hardly alluring. Her grooming and fashion habits were born from perfectionist tendencies and a desire to impress... whom? The people in charge, or that's what she had convinced herself to believe. She didn't mind, though. It was kind of flattering. But embarrassing, too.

Now her personality... That was something, however imperfect, Waker preferred to be known for. Brains over beauty. "Well, thank Merlin, because even if I fall a hundred feet and then another six, I don't think my last words would dare go anywhere without first proving their point." It made more sense in her head than spoken aloud, but at least she had made it known.

As they began to rise, the Ravenclaw felt her head go light, even though it was technically her body that was supposed to have such a reaction to repelling gravity. With Brennan's arms around her and solid build behind her, she felt locked into a human harness. It was simultaneously awkward and reassuring. Waker was the breathing definition of the type of person who, as a rule, required 'personal space'. She squeezed her eyelids shut, only peaking enough so that sunlight stung her eyes.

When they seemed to be quite a distance up, Waker opened her eyes-- but only after Brennan had questioned her. For a moment she said nothing, feeling quite panicky and disoriented. Oh god, she couldn't even see her almonds. What if someone stole her things? It was entirely possible. Had they not already been temporarily taken from her and presented again by someone falling from the sky? Waker wouldn't even be surprised if they were struck by lightning. Both of them.

But... it was nice. Breathtaking, even, as terribly corny as that sounded (and she kept the adjective to herself, to be certain). She had never appreciated how huge Hogwarts was. The only time she had come close was during the customary right of passage across the lake before the Sorting Ceremony, and that felt like a million years ago. "It..." She fumbled, unsure what to say. She didn't like being wrong. Not that she was now entirely enamored with being so far up, either. "Well, we're not dead yet," she laughed nervously, her voice going dry. She made the mistake of looking down and felt herself swoon dangerously. She clutched the broom tighter. "It's... very lovely," she admitted quietly, but earnestly.

Ever since he'd seen her at eleven, Brennan knew he'd liked her. He didn't know what it was about her exactly, but he could just tell there was something there that attracted him, physically, mentally, emotionally. Maybe she wasn't the most beautiful of girls, but to Brennan, she had that look that screamed she was gorgeous and it needed to be recognized. And sure, she was witty and sarcastic, but didn't that come with most Ravenclaws?

And now. Now he had her on a broom with him, flying around the pitch. Though it wasn't exactly a coupling, he now had five minutes of practically holding her in the air. Even if she didn't consider this remotely romantic, he thought it was. He was quite enjoying it, though he refused to let her know that, because then she would probably jump off, regardless of how far up they were.

"Well, thank Merlin, because even if I fall a hundred feet and then another six, I don't think my last words would dare go anywhere without first proving their point."

Brennan managed another laugh. She cracked him up. "I told you, Waker." There it was again. Her name. His lips. "I won't let you fall." He took the broom and flew them between the stands, between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Again, the wind felt perfect and the sun hit just right. And he wasn't going at any breaking speeds. He would never put Waker at too much discomfort.

"It's... very lovely."

Smiling to himself, he knew she was going to say more, but chose not to. "How do you think I feel everytime I'm playing quidditch? It's not just for the thrill of the sport, you know? Flying is sort of... an escape. It allows me just to think and get away from all the negative things in the day." He sighed, and then pushed the broom, still holding her tight to him, closer to the ground, leveling somewhere halfway down the goal posts.

She looked nervous. And he'd had about five minutes of bliss now. So he wondered if he should stop while he was ahead. "Would you like me to take you down now? I don't want you to feel like, either I'm forcing you to enjoying flight, or that you may end up vomiting mid-air."