The world kept turning, the sun kept rising, people kept breathing. Sophie was shocked.Even in the time that had elapsed, she was shocked. The world had not ended on March 11th like she was sure it would. The stars didn't fall from the sky, the moon didn't crash into the sea... and other than breaking a family heirloom jewelry box and scaring the shit out of her dogs in the process; physically Sophie went unscathed. It was the little things that got to her. It was the way that there was never and owl waiting for her when she woke up, the way people stepped around her - like she might explode any moment; most of all it was the way Ruby was suffering. It was obvious to anyone who wanted to look - Sophie even saw it and as far as self involved people went Sophie was easily consumed with herself.

She couldn't stand the looks anymore (real or imagined); which is why she'd escaped outside for the time being. Spring had settled over Scotland finally, and for once the day was bright without rain. Little flowers sprouted along the path to the lake. The fresh air burned her lungs a little but it was a good burn. She was settling back into a routine; even if it did involved someone asking her sixty-four-million times a day if she was feeling alright. She supposed, giving her behavior prior to her mother's death they had cause to worry. Looking back at it now she was off her nut. She and Nan had had a lengthy conversation about that fact; Magda had assured her it was normal for young Seers. It didn't make Sophie feel any better but it did reassure her that she wasn't really...as insane as Figaro had told her she was. Everything at been out of alignment.

She had been out of alignment. Now, well now she was just.. well there was sadness but acceptance too. She was, perhaps, mostly just resigned to the facts of her life. Being sad was supposed to be natural - but she was tired of it. Sitting herself on a patch of grass she looked out over the lake and inhale the cool air deeply. She just wanted things to go back to normal. She wanted to be loud and silly. She wanted to dance for no reason. It felt like she constantly had to be doing something important with her life now - something to make it matter. Just being happy wasn't enough to make an impact. Impact was important to Ramona; she would expect them to learn a lesson even from her death. Was Ruby right and the only lesson they were expected to learn was to love harder and forgive more? It didn't seem like enough in the wake of such devastation. Of course the other side to being so morose was that she'd hardly lost her temper... well since she made that hole in her wall at home.

Leaning back with her face toward the sky she watched the clouds; eyes intently focused like she might find some kind of answer there. She knew she wouldn't but there was some quote - by some muggle; We're all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. Maybe the same rule applied to clouds. Maybe no matter how broken you felt the important thing was to keep looking up; keep striving for the unreachable. It certainly was a better view than contemplating her own navel had been - even if she did have a rather cute navel. Laying back on the grass she watched the clouds move, ankles crossed as she made a chain of high grass and wild flowers.

-- Trent's Uniform --

---

One of the many things that weirded people out about Trent was that he was prone to hiding about in bushes and the forbidden forest. No one really knew what he did besides his friends, who were usually just the same as Trent; too rude and off putting to talk to about certain things. But Trent was a photographer and a loner. He wasn't especially one for nature (in fact, he enjoyed the inside way more than the outdoors) but he did take rather pretty pictures of the trees and the birds and the mindless students who passed by him in the spring daze. He was a lovely photographer. But he hated art and he hated anyone who wanted to see his pictures. No one ever really saw his pictures. Mystique caught a glimpse of them once upon a time...

Trent chose not to think about Mysti as much as he used to. The girl practically avoided him. For whatever reason. Perhaps a few too many heated words had escaped the Slytherin's lips. He blamed himself, of course.

So it wasn't unusual to see Trent Travis stomping his way through the trees. He had grown bored with the leaves and the green, so he decided to move onto the dark lake that sat next to the forest, kissing its side with its cold waves. He had his camera around his neck, his blue eyes narrowed from the sunlight beaming down on his face. He had left his cloak inside, knowing it would be warm outside. He didn't mind being outside when it was warm and when the sky was blue. He hated the greyness. He hated it. It reminded him of his childhood, how it was always muggy and cold. Anything that reminded him of his childhood, he hated. Luckily, not many things reminded him of those days. He didn't meet many people who were like himself. No one should ever remind Trent of himself. It was wrong. Perhaps this was only because he hated himself.

If Trent were a piece of literature, he'd be Catcher and the Rye minus the prostitute. Angsty with no real problems. And no prostitute.

His camera clicked softly. The sun was beating itself against the water, making it glisten and shimmer. It was rather pretty. Even Trent could appreciate it. And he hated everything. He ran a hand through his hair. He had washed it the night before so his curls bouncy freely and his hand wasn't covered in grease. Trent didn't usually mind being greasy, which was why he hardly showered, but he did like the freshness of being clean. Even so, he still reeked of incense. People told Trent he smelled, but that was only because they were jealous of how beautiful his scent really was. He never smelled bad. He made sure of it. And surely if he smelled awful, he wouldn't have managed to actually maintain Mysti as a girlfriend for that short while. It was his smelly personality that made him single once more.

Something shifted in the grass behind Trent. He looked back, hesitantly. He didn't know anyone was there, and it definitely startled him to hear someone moving around. He hoped it was just a rabbit or another innocent animal so he could laugh quietly to himself. But, instead, he saw a girl lying in the grass. She was younger, wearing a Gryffindor tie... Trent had no clue who she was. Trent had never really been interested in a Gryffindor girl. Lou was pretty, but she reminded Trent too much of Georgie and that was more creepy than it was sexy (much to Trent's confusion.) He could have simply ignored her. She didn't seem aware he was there... Well, not really, at least. But there was something in her little expression that reminded Trent of something... Something very familiar.

Perhaps he was just imagining it. But he recognized that face. He had stared into that very face every day for months when he was just a tad younger than her. The hurt expression of loss. Trent's lip quivered. He hated anything that reminded him of his childhood. He was probably just working himself up over nothing. He was just in his "time of the month" most likely.

But his lips parted and he let his camera fall against his diaphragm once again. "Hey there," Trent tilted his head and turned his feet to face the girl, "You all by yourself?" he paused, "I don't mean to sound like a creeper, yeah? Just wondering." It was nearly impossible for Trent to say anything to a girl without coming off creepy. He just had that vibe. Perhaps because he truly was disgustingly creepy. But he was being sincere with the girl.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" He smiled, trying to come off as a nice guy, "It'd be nice to have some company, is all."

Though her mother's death had put her more in tune with much of the world; Sophie could still get lost in herself. She would follow her rabbit hole thoughts in whichever direction they took her. When she was alone it was worse; people had a way of taking your mind off the places it could go otherwise. They demanded attention, lest you be caught daydreaming. There was nothing worse than the awkwardness of explaining to someone where your mind had gone while they were in the middle of telling you a story about their day. People wanted a rapt audience! Sophie understood; there had been a time when she had been exactly the same. When she thought of it now she wondered how anyone had ever paid attention to her with the sheer amount of time she spent talking. Of course when you talked loudly you were much harder to ignore. Sophie had always been loud; some part of her would always be loud - but in the month of readjustment she was far quieter than she had known possible.

That was probably why she started so easily when the elder Slytherin spoke. She had been following her thoughts - not one in particular or about anything important, just a thought that tumbled into another as her fingers braided the grass and flowers together seamlessly. Swallowing hard she sat up, tucked her legs (Merlin forbid she sit any other way), her fingers pinching the chain to keep it from unraveling.She couldn't help the confused expression that settled over her features. It wasn't that she didn't know who he was; it was more the fact that he was being nice to her that was shocking. Trent Travis wasn't exactly known for being overly friendly. Sophie wasn't one to judge; but in general he seemed to just keep to himself. It wasn't until he started dating Mysti that Sophie had given any real thought to him at all. Once a boy dated your friend, especially a good friend like Mysti you were privy to all sorts of information about them.

Suddenly you knew all kinds of things you'd have never known otherwise! You how they were when they weren't being the people everyone expected them to be; you knew how softly they could speak and the things that weighed most heavily on their minds. You were also clued in to all of their little personality quirks and created shared theories about why boys acted the way they did. Most embarrassingly (at least for Sophie) was the idea of knowing how a perfect stranger kissed, and exactly how far he'd expected to go with a girl once she had the title of "girlfriend". Sophie tried to keep her cheeks from flushing crimson as she flashed onto the tidbits of information Mysti had shared. It wasn't that she had said anything bad it was just awkward to know more about the person staring at you than they knew about you. It was more awkward when every so often (while you were trying to get your wits about you) you couldn't help but glance at their mouth.

She knew she had to know more about Trent, or at least was fairly certain, because he hadn't even used her name. Shaking her head, in the hopes of clearing it of kisses and the internal conflict of how nice you were supposed to be to the boy who completely flubbed up his relationship with a very dear friend, the fifth year offered him a bashful smile, "Yea, sorry! Have a seat," she patted the spot of grass next to her in a friendly enough manner. She decided Mysti would want her to be nice. The Hufflepuff had mostly just said 'it was one of those things' and left it at that. In girlspeak that meant Trent hadn't really done anything wrong it just wasn't working anymore. There was no reason to be horribly mean because Mysti hadn't given a specific reason as to why it wasn't working anymore.

Until that very moment of him looking at her, with that camera dangling around his neck, Sophie hadn't given much thought to him. Post-Mysti break up he was just another boy in another house. Soph had her hands full of boys she didn't know what to do with. Devlin had come begging forgiveness and then there was Chance and how all consuming her confusion over him could be. There was Fig who she was...mostly over (due to the sheer necessity, she had lost her mother so soon after the break up marinating in pain of her first relationship flaming out so spectacularly was not really an option). There was really no point in trying to piece it all together, so instead she extended a hand to the older boy, the corners of her lips twitched up with a smile, "Sophie Flickwick. You're Trent, right?" she asked despite the fact she already knew. It seemed more polite. He seemed to sort of exude awkward from every pore so it was best if he didn't know she knew exactly how much tongue had been involved in most of his kisses...it was really just best for both of them if she didn't think about that.