After Class Activities

[Tybalt Archer]

The young Gryffindor teen, had had a difficult week. After getting a little sick at the start, and taking things a little easier, he had decided that enough was enough. He had been in his eyes slacking. Doing less than he should. Of course the week had been difficult but it had also been great. With each passing day, B filled his thoughts more and more. There were things that he just wanted to do with her. Sit with her, be with her. Around her. She was incredible to him, but also, and annoyingly a secret. Something that he couldn't tell anyone about. But, it wasn't because he didn't want to. Hell, he really wanted to. But because of B's sister who really hated him, and the idea of B with any close friends, not even specifically him, he couldn't. They didn't tell anyone, didn't show it. It was hard, it made things difficult. He couldn't sit with her, or hold her hand. Kiss her whenever he wanted to. Put his arm around her, like any of the other couples in the school were able to do. Instead he was left with a small amount of emptiness in his heart that he simply ignored. It was why, he was annoyed about being sick, or under the weather during the week. It would've been simpler, if he hadn't been. He could continue to work, practicing. Doing whatever he needed to, to take his mind off it. However, as it was the end of the week. The time after the classes. After the astronomy class, it was headed in to the afternoon, and he had plenty time to spare, and was looking forward to doing a little bit of just relaxing. And well, for him relaxing was not sitting around doing nothing, it was doing something. Doing anything that was active and was also fun. Well, at least fun for him. Which was why, the first and only thought in the teen's brain had been the quidditch pitch. Something that would not have been his first thought not overly long ago. He liked the pitch more and more, and it was one of those places that he could go, that he was unlikely to meet Josefina. Since she didn't do sports. There was a sense of calm that washed over him on the pitch. One that hadn't existed before. Even last year, after the quidditch match, he had been on edge, had said he'd never do it again. But, he had. He'd gotten back on to the broom, and given it another shot. Because, honestly what was the worst thing that could happen.

The pitch was fairly empty when he arrived. It was the beginning of March, he was happy. The year was very quickly coming to an end, and this meant that he could spend more time with B, he could just hang out with her, just the two of them, without the fear of being caught. He'd be able to see his family. Visit his cousin. The only downside was that it was beginning to get pretty cold. Something the teen could already feel as he made his way on to the pitch. New Zealand was definitely different from what he was used to. It was colder, and wetter than anything he had lived in. But, the sky was a dark overcast. He could tell, that it wasn't it's usual clear blue, rather it had a cold air to it, and the sky looked fairly threatening, as if the heavens could break open at any possible minute. That didn't bother the teen. Instead he just got out of his uniform, and into his practice gear. His usual lose fitting, grey running shorts, well they looked grey to him, really could be any colour. He liked them. His mama had bought them for him before the school year. He switched his shirt and tie for a white t-shirt, and put on his Gryffindor hoody on top. At least to begin with, running with a jumper would be pretty good. Until he was warm enough. He was pretty excited by the time he got on to the pitch. Could barely stand still during his warm up, and stretching. He just wanted to get started. One of the problems with Ty was his reluctance to just stay on one thing. Keep his mind focused on one thing. He just was a little too excitable. At even the simplest things. Because of this, as soon as he was done with the stretching, and making sure his bag sat on the side of the pitch with the bottle of water next to it, he just got started. Taking it slow to begin with, but not quite sticking to the same pace, sometimes speeding up, or slowing down, going into a skip, or criss crossing over the line. Pretend he had cones, and just that sort of thing. He worked up a sweat pretty easily, but this didn't stop him. He had missed out on a a few days of running, and training. He would make up for it now. He had an abundance of energy and he had to start getting rid of it somehow. This was just the one way he thought of. Happily the teen continued running. Brushing a hand thought his hair, the sweat causing his hair to get slightly more slicked back that normal, though still everywhere. He liked running, it was one of those things that he was just easily good at.
​

 

[Cyndi Kingsley]

Throwing down the letter in her hand with disgust, Professor Kingsley ran her hands through her wavy, brown hair, a scowl on her face. She was tired of reading letters from parents, expressing their disapproval at the school for not stopping the Rumour Has It magazine from being published. It was as if the parents thought that the Headmistress and herself were sitting around twiddling their thumbs and ignoring the magazine. They, and the other members of the staff, had been working vigilantly to find out who the author was, but so far they had garnered very little information. The professors had some ideas, of course, but nowhere near enough to accuse someone. With a sigh, the professor stood up and got a look at herself in the mirror hanging across from her desk. Cyndi stared at the face that was looking back at her. From this distance, she couldn’t see any of the imagined wrinkles that she usually saw. Instead, she saw a face with tired eyes and a frown. Her brown eyes drifted away from her reflection, not pleased with what she saw. She wished that life had been easier, but these days everything was difficult. With a sigh, the professor muttered a spell to lock her door wandlessly. The professor removed her slate colored robes and straightened her shirt. Taking her sneakers from under her desk, the professor quickly slipped out of her flats and into her sneakers. When she had finished, she looked around her room, her eyes falling on the corner of her office that held her Scarlet Streak. With the hint of a smile, the professor knew that she wouldn’t be running today.

As she exited her office, broom in one hand and bottle of water in her pocket, the professor briefly wondered about her husband’s reaction if he found out that she’d gotten on a broom. She knew how he felt about her flying while she was in this condition, but she also knew that the Healers had told her that it was alright for now. She wasn’t even showing after all and wouldn’t be for a while longer, and she absolutely was not some delicate flower. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him , Cyndi thought to herself as she continued on. Stepping out of the castle, the professor slowed, a frown towards the sky. She probably wasn’t going to have much time before it began to rain. After a moment’s hesitation, the professor continued on. Her thoughts drifted as she walked, thinking about Kiera who was heavily pregnant, much more so than she was. Her sister-in-law was always heavy in her thoughts these days, concern for her health a matter of great importance to both Cyndi and her husband. She couldn’t believe that there had been no news of James over the past three months. Not one thing. It was as if he had vanished off the face of the Earth.

The professor sighed, entering the pitch. It was fairly empty, and Cyndi wasted no time on mounting her broom. Adjusting herself a bit, the professor kicked off with all of her might, shooting straight up, up, up into the sky. Once she was sufficiently high, the professor leveled off and began flying in the same direction that the others were flying. She didn’t want to cause an accident by flying in the opposite direction. Leaning forward, the professor pushed her broom to the limit, flying quickly making a wide circuit around the pitch. The breeze on her face and running through her hair was exhilarating and Cyndi was glad that she made the decision to come out on the pitch. After completing several circuits at top-speed, the professor dipped lower, going under the other people flying so that she could take a breather. She stretched out her hands, one at a time, and then pulled out her wand to summon her bottle of water. Taking a sip, the professor watched some of the students as they flew around, some just messing around and others practicing drills. Already she felt slightly less tense.

Out of Character:

Hope you don't mind me joining with my prof.

 

[Tybalt Archer]

School was a haven of good times. Tybalt Archer had discovered what he was good at it, with little to no pressure, and while he was naturally good at few things, when he put his mind to it, and just worked at it, there was little he couldn't achieve. A prime example of this was the quidditch thing. The fact that he had decided to pick up a broom and force himself in to the air, despite how much he feared it. It was a show for him. It was something that made him stand out against the rest. He didn't even think about it now. Flying was almost natural. Sure, on some days he had moments were even the thought of being high in the air scared him, he was just careful and hid it well. He liked flying in stormy weather, the rain, the winds. Things like that made it fun for the teen. That, and cloudy weather was the easiest for Tybalt to see in. The bright sunshine wasn't good for his eyes. It made it hard. But, rain, cloudy, wind. He loved those things. They made it harder to fly sure, but he was the type who liked more and more a little it of dangerous conditions. He just enjoyed the thrill of things at times. As his fears got less and less important, and he grew in confidence, he figured that his confidence grew in other ways too. That being one of the ways that it did. However, this practice, the teen wasn't even in the air yet. He was just running. Pushing himself, running harder, faster, maintaining it. He was pushing himself, because he had lost time, and as soon as he tired of that, it would be time to fly up into the air and enjoy the wind against his face and the freedom that he got from flying. The pitch was one of these places that was never empty. It was a sports field. It was always busy, or had a few people milling around. Flying, hanging out. He was just focused, he ignored all others, and just ran, making sure, of course that he didn't actually run into anyone. Because that would be embarrassing for him. He didn't want that. The teen spent enough time, proving that his eyesight wasn't so poor, and he knew that if he did that, that RHI would pick up on it. They hadn't been kind to him since the get go. He didn't mind. He could deal with it. It just wasn't fun.

Finally, when his legs practically gave out, he slowed to a walk. He cut across the field to the small amount of his belongings that he had placed beside the exit. Sitting upon a bench, the young Gryffindor brushed the hair from his eyes, and glanced around the pitch. Grabbing the water, and taking a long drink. He needed to go get the broom, but he was feeling pretty worn out. He still didn't think it wasn't worth it. Tybalt had fallen sick, just after falling asleep in the Student lounge where he had then spent time with B. It meant that given the choice to avoid being sick, or not, he would always choose to be sick. Because then, they got to spend together, with Ty acting slightly less hyper and active, which had meant that they had finally been able to talk. Considering they were dating, it was funny to think that it was one of the first conversations they'd had where they had shared information beyond who they were. Closing the water bottle, he placed it beside him and then looked round at the other people on the pitch. A part of him hoped that he might run into B again. Though they were much more in the view of others, so that would mean they couldn't do anything. Besides fly up, into the air and hopeful away from the eyes of the other students. Who would tell others, and in the longer string of people might reach Josefina. Which neither of them wanted. He noticed, flying not to far above him, was the Ancient runes professor, who was also the head of Gryffindor house, and the deputy headmistress. Ty smiled at the professor, and gave a small wave. He was sure that the professor didn't remember him, but he didn't mind. He would be nice anyway. Tybalt leaned over to his bag, and from within pulled out his wand and summoned his broom. Which was a second hand broom. It didn't look overly good, but it was good enough. His family didn't have much money, and brooms were exceedingly expensive. However, having not really sufficiently recovered from the running, the teen just put the wand away and lay the broom on his lap. Letting the bright blue eyes watch the field, noticing where the other people were flying. Noticing the darkening sky. He could only hope that it was moment away from breaking into a downpour. All in all, he felt good to be back on the field. Felt good to be better. Just felt good.
​

Sorry this took so long

 

[Cyndi Kingsley]

As she sipped at her water and looked around, the professor noticed a student wave to her from the ground. She squinted her eyes, the better to see him with, and then smiled as she realized who it was. The professor wasn’t exactly great at remembering the names of her younger students. She didn’t teach any of them so unless they were in her house, her only interaction with the first and second years was under the condition that they were in serious trouble. This student, however, she knew, both because he was from her house and because she had taught him the previous semester. He'd done well in the class, which was why Cyndi was able to easily remember him. Heading down to place her bottle on the bench, the professor smiled at Tybalt who seemed to have had the same idea that she and several others had despite the impending downpour. Racing around the pitch seemed to be a popular activity, which made sense. With little to no glare, it was easier on the eyes for the Seekers to practice and to just be in the sky in general.

Landing softly, the professor slipped off of her broom and continued walking in one fluid motion. She was glad that she hadn’t lost all of her quidditch skills. Her heavy breathing indicated that she had lost some of it, though Cyndi dismissed it as being due to her pregnancy. The wind began to pick up slightly as the professor reached the Gryffindor boy. She glanced up slightly, noticing that a particularly dark cloud was looming ever closer. I probably should’ve brought my hoodie, the professor thought to herself. “Hello Mr. Archer. Nice day for racing, huh?” the professor stated with a smile as she leaned her broom on the bench and placed her bottle onto it. The professor lifted her foot so that she could tie the lace on her left shoe, which had come untied while she’d flown. The boy sat on the bench, his broom on his lap. The professor glanced at it, always interested to see what brooms the kids were using these days. She knew that he was on the House team, which meant that his broom got more use than the average student’s did. “What model is that?” the professor asked with interest. She couldn’t see a name etched on the side of it. It looked to be similar to the school ones, a Shooting Star or a Cleansweep, but she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t have the same eye for brooms that some of her quidditch friends had. For good measure, she switched feet so she could tie her other sneaker. If she didn’t tie it now, she knew that it would be a matter of seconds before it decided to loosen up.