Learning to Fly, For Vitty and her dream boat with eyeyzz

[Emmeline Vance]

Emmeline was finally ready to admit that the stress and amount of school work was starting to get to her. She didn't know why this year, of all years, was the one as there wasn't horrible about it like the NEWTs or the OWLs. Emme could only guess she was this stressed out because she was stressing out about next year. A horrible trait of hers, she had problems just living in the present or even the close future – she was always thinking about way in the future.

On top of the increased work load, this was playing horrible games with her dreams and sleep schedule. Finding herself wide awake one minute, she would be crashing the next and if she managed to actually get her head on a pillow, or a comfy shoulder of a friend, the dreams were vivid enough about classes to be real. It was like she was breathing academics and she could no longer hide it. While she looked like she typically did – well dressed, crazy hair and a wide smile not everything was as it was supposed to be. The smile didn't quite reach her eyes and seemed to waver occasionally while there was a sense of weariness surrounding her and bags were showing up under her eyes.

She had finally forced herself away from the mounds of paper and books but it had taken much personal persuasion and even then she hadn't ended up in the calmest place to breath. Owls hooted quietly around her occasionally flapping in and out of the open windows but otherwise docile in the middle of a Saturday afternoon. Leaning against one of these said windows, she paid little attention to the stench and the droppings that had covered her sleeves.

Emme was naturally surprised by the lack of foot traffic to one of the highest and most popular towers of the castle. Apparently it wasn't a Saturday to be sending letters home but it suited her just fine. Having already written home to her parent via her barn owl, Shadows, a couple days ago, she really had no obligation to be here. It was her feet that had brought her here, perhaps searching out somewhere that she was unlikely to be bothered to long and she really quite appreciated it in enjoying the quite noise of the animals behind her.

[Tristan Avery]

Some people seemed to think the Owlery was a fun place to visit, watching the owls hoot and flap about as other students shipped off mail and such for home. Tristan never saw things the same way. For him, the birds’ roost was a foul, waste of a place that could have been put to far better uses – but no, apparently animals needed to live within the castle where people could have easy access to them. Their smell was allowed to permeate through the high floors, wind picking up that unmistakeable odour and dragging it through any open window it could find. It was nauseating, and though he may have had a slightly sensitive nose, covering it with the sleeve of his robe made the draft no more easier to bear.

Wincing at the crack of small bones beneath his shoes, he stepped gingerly over the threshold, burying his face in the crook of his elbow as he glanced – warily – upwards, looking for that familiar tawny friend of his family. With a sudden flutter, the large bird drifted easily down to him, landing with a thump on his shoulder and making him shudder. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the creatures, he just liked other things more – and thoroughly disliked the lack of hygiene that came with them. It was nothing injurious to the birds, just concern for his poor nose.

Twitching slightly, he quickly tied the thick letter to the birds leg, giving it a treat that he had toted along just for the heavy fellow, before carrying him over to an open window. Experience had told him to take the bird off his shoulder before allowing it to take flight, knowing the sudden grip of talons into his flesh wasn’t worth a second trip to the hospital wing. When it came to pain, Tristan only needed to be told once. If it weren’t for his desire to get the thing off, he may have been a little bit more observant, noting that delightful blond-haired beauty in the shadows. As it was, he was completely oblivious – at least until his family’s messenger was far enough away for him to turn around and saunter quickly towards the open door.

Somewhat unfortunately for him, there were some people that Tristan would brave even the most heinous surroundings to be with – and Emmeline Vance happened to be one of them. A flicker of her golden blond hair had caught his attention, and her pretty pale face had turned his treacherous body in her direction. Regardless of what his nose wanted, he was committed to a greeting, at the very least. “Emme!” he called out, trotting over mass amounts of small animal bones to get to her side. “Sending well-wishes home?” he asked as he approached.

[Emmeline Vance]

Emme was faintly aware that he had been joined in the owlry but paid little attention to them figuring that if it was someone who wanted to talk, well the would address her first. Sighing softly, the blond settled more comfortably down against the window sill, sucking in a breath of fresh air as a breeze ruffled her hair lightly, momentarily relieving her of the smell coming from behind her.

Having long ago passed off her company off as someone who didn't recognize her, Emme had sunk into a deep well of thought, loosing herself to the real word for a moment as she did so. As Tristan spoke, she was jerked out of that world making her jump a couple inches and spin on her heals, her eyes wide with her hand already over her fluttering heart. "Tristan…" She breathed in obvious relief, a smile spreading across her lips as she recognized her friend's face. "You scared me." She muttered, blushing slightly at the fact that she had allowed herself to be caught like that.

"No, I just…needed to get away from the hustle and bustle." She answered, her smile wavering slightly as the tiredness showed a little more in her eyes before she turned away from him to look out to the grounds again. "Why don't you join me? There's a nice breeze that keeps most of the stench away." She offered, shifting over slightly as mother nature chipped in blowing the wind a bit harder to push Emme's hair away from her face.

[Tristan Avery]

He saw no reason to hide his disgust at her choice of a hiding place. “Sure sure,” he answered, “but here? Really?” His emerald eyes were wide, mouth contorted into a mildly disturbed frown. Glancing down, he saw clearly – from the light shining through the thin window – what he had known he was stepping on. It was a lovely mix of feces and shipped white bones, and the thought of either rubbing against the soft leather of his shoes made him slightly nauseous. Granted, better his clothes than his actual skin, but he couldn’t put aside the grimy feeling that was quickly crawling over him. Only the startling image of Emme by the window, bathed in the afternoon light and being encircled by the refreshing breeze could keep him inside, much less within a mile of the fetid tower.

“I’m sure it does,” he answered, covering his face again as he leapt carefully to the window, and fresh air. It was a graceful love on his part, avoiding the various tiny things he would have crushed if he had walked – but the sickening crunch under his heel told him it had been an act in vain. There wasn’t a space in the littered flooring where a man could find clear footing, and the Owlery was determined to prove it to him. “But here?” he stressed again, leaning out the window to gulp down a lungful of crisp, autumn breeze.

His jump had brought him dangerously close to her, though he couldn’t have noticed the distance if she was wearing a grass skirt and gymnastics. Nearly launching himself out the opening in the stone wall didn’t do anything to lengthen the space either. Even as he leant back in, he could feel the heat from her body pulsating as he looked at her face, still appalled with her choice of a getaway location. “You really are quite the girl – I hope you know that.” Shaking his head, shoulder-length hair tumbling over his shoulders for a moment before pushing them back again, he tried to force all thoughts of where he was out of his mind.

“To be honest, not that I’m ever anything less than, I’m surprised to see you outside of your own common room or the library. I would have thought you’d be studying, like you have been for the last… oh, I don’t know – forever?” It was a sad fact – he hadn’t really seen Emme, beyond a passing hello, since September – more than a month ago. And for Tristan, who fed on interactions with other people, that was an unnecessarily long period of time. “If this is where you’ve been, I swear I’ll never come looking for you. Ever.” The glint in his eyes was completely serious – a rarity for him.

[Emmeline Vance]

The crunch that came from Tristan's jump echoed around the room, making Emme twitch slightly and causing the owls around them to rustle in irritation at being disturbed by such a loud noise. Several feathers drifted down upon them as the birds settles, clinging to her hair and although she brushed some of them away with a sigh, she was still starting to look like on of the creatures herself. "It's not that bad..." She muttered quietly though it wasn't much of an argument, she knew quite well that this wasn't the best, or sanest, place to be.

Having leaned away from him as he jumped, Emme now settles herself back into a more comfortable position like the owls, her arm pressing against Tristan's though she was hardly aware of the fact. For her, touching Tristan was merely like breathing or sleeping though apparently it hadn't been as necessary in the past few weeks.

"I decided to take a break.” She answered before his words could completely sink in. When they did though, it was the straw that finally broke her and it took all her strength not to cry out in frustration or even break down in overwhelmed tears. Although a little over a month wasn't all that bad for some people, for Emme and Tristan who had had daily contact with each other for five years, it was an incredibly long time. During the school years they had been seen at least once a day taking a stroll or talking in the Great Hall while over the summers daily owls were sent, sometimes amounting to two or three in a day. They were never at a loss for words and now it was as if she had just completely dropped him off the edge of her map without ceremony.

"God Kitten, it's just been so much lately." She breathed, trying to control her emotions as she automatically fell to her nickname for him, forgetting that when they had broken up she had decided that it would be best if they didn't use the nicknames anymore. "I mean, I’ve got my own work to focus on, and then I've been helping Benjy with his too which mean I need to spend extra time in the library looking things up so I understand them enough to help him. On top of all that I have prefect duties and quidditch practice which doesn't leave me hardly enough time to get any of that work done so I'm not getting enough sleep...” She trailed off, trying to catch her breath as she had said most of that as quickly as she could in one breath.

Frowning, she bit down on her lip to stop herself from both saying more and crying, but as she turned her face towards him, both the tears and the fret were all too easy to read in her too clear eyes and quivering bottom lip. It was almost as if she was silently imploring him to make everything disappear, something she would never admit to anyone, let alone herself.

[Tristan Avery]

Being both a male and a Slytherin, Tristan should have by rights been the sort to shy away from emotion – to hide from it and avoid it at all costs. Being as Lucius considered him “mentally deficient at humanity” such trivial things didn’t affect him quite so potently as they should have. In situations such as this, particularly where he was aware of the impending break in temper, it was easy for him to simply relax and be comforting. With Emmeline especially, he found himself very aware of her mood at all times, and knew when best to play certain elements, or stand away from others. It was a connection he had adored when they were together, found immensely endearing as friends, and now realized he had sorely missed in their month long absence from one another. Even her use of their nicknames, a subject she had outlined as taboo previously, filled him with a kind of gratuitous yearning that he had not felt in some time.

His eyes widened slightly, emerald oceans flooding with concern for her as he listened, arms wrapping protectively around her mid-speech. It wasn’t even the contact that felt appropriate, but the proximity. He found it easy to convey emotions, for all his lack of feeling them, but he felt nothing could be more genuine than honest physicality. There was very little to be faked in the way of touching another person. Where the voice and face lied, the electric current that pulsed from one body to the next could not, and would never be destroyed.

“Vixey…” he whispered softly, hugging her tightly. Merlin, he missed this feeling. It was just natural for him, being so together like this. He didn’t enjoy her being involved with anyone else, but as long as he was still permitted – though in general it was not an appropriate concept to touch a girl in a relationship with another individual, as he was very personally informed in his fourth year – to be with her like this, then he could handle any unnecessary distance between them. If ever they should cease to be so brazenly affectionate, then everything he understood would cease to be comprehensible within his head.

Stroking her hair gently, he whispered soft words of comfort in her ear. “Relax, sweetheart. Everything will be okay. It’s only your sixth year – you’ll get used to it.” Frankly, he had never understood the need of Ravenclaws to finish every assignment given them within a degree of perfection, but he supposed that was what distinguished them from one another. Most Slytherins, while brilliant, were not so adamant in academic perfection as their eagle-minded peers. “Perhaps you should take a sick day? You and I could go to that secret place at the far end of the lake, you know – the one with the willow tree? Where you swore you could hear mermaids singing that one night?” He was referring to a place that very few students were aware of, having little reason to cross the lake, or travel that deeply into the forest to appreciate such a serene little setting. Surely, it would have been out of bounds, but rules were something that had little effect on his decisions when it came down to it.

“Tomorrow – you need the rest, and missing one day of classes isn’t going to see you a year behind in your work. What do you think?”

[Emmeline Vance]

Feeling his large, comfortingly warm arms wrap around her comparatively small form, Emme let herself settle against the familiar grasp, her face turning into his shoulder as she breathed deeply, willing herself to calm down. The familiar smell of his general person and the steady rhythm of his heart helped that a bit though it still took her several short moments to gather her wits. When she finally felt under control, she slid her arms around him in return, tightening and locking around his back as she sighed and turned her face enough to look out the window and catch another fresh breeze blowing in.

Listening to his soothing words only seemed to increase her worry, but that came from her ever active mind. She couldn’t imagine ever getting used to a schedule this hectic. She could remember being mildly busy in years past but nothing like this - she felt like a book whose bindings were seconds from falling apart.

Sighing wistfully at his offer, she bit down on her lip and pulled away, answer already on the tip of her tongue. Sliding her gaze away from him, she slowly shook her head. “You know I couldn’t do that Tristan.” She muttered, voice showing little resistance despite his words. “I just can’t leave my responsibilities behind me and forget about them for a day. You know that.” She continued, refusing to look at him; she knew quite well that if she looked up at his vivid green eyes there would be no saying no to anything he asked, even when he wasn’t in full on beg mode.

[Tristan Avery]

“Vixey…” His voice echoed in the hollow dome of the Owlery, a gentle tenor compared the raspy scratch of the cold autumn breeze against frigid stone. The melody alone was meant to ease her mind, make her breath in rhythm with his heart beat, rather than her own, which was fairly hyperactive. It was rare to see Emme so visibly bothered by her workload, though he could have guessed from a variety of other clues. Having been so close to her, and slowly coming back again now, he found himself very in tune with her attitude, and aware of the emotional current that surrounded her. Currently, it was a hectic storm of worry and frustration as she attempted to meet the goals and deadlines she made for herself, but every day fell just a little bit shorter of that finishing line. It was painful to watch, and even more uncomfortable to sit back and allow her to go on as if there was no other solution. She had to relax, and he knew he had the power to help.

Rocking her back and forth gently in his embrace, he rested his head against hers, inhaling deeply and revelling the sweet, flowery scent of her shampoo. “Of course you wouldn’t just abandon your work for a day. We’d get your affairs in order tonight, clear out everything set aside for tomorrow, and then dive back in the next day. It’ll be perfect. You need to relax anyway…” He hugged her tightly, voice sinking into a more entrancing tone as he spoke again. “You work too hard as it is.”

It wasn’t often he felt the need to be extra persuasive with her, but desperate times called for desperate measures – and Emmeline had most definitely hit a point of desperation in her life. If it meant being insanely mesmerizing, he would gladly do it for her sake. The one thing that distinguished a Slytherin from the other three houses: he could and would do whatever it took.