Are You Blind?

[Rudolf Lagowski]

The evening was drawing to a close, and with their stomachs filled with delicious food from the great hall, the students of Hogwarts were retiring to their dormitories. Most would head straight to bed, since their heavy lids were already drawing like curtains over their tired eyes. Not Rudolf. After departing from dinner (and the company of his twin), the young Gryffindor decided to take the scenic route back to his common room. This entailed a little bit of walking, and a lot of running up and down the dimly lit corridors with his arms outstretched beside him like the wings of an aeroplane. To further elucidate his impression, he hummed loudly like an engine as he ducked and dived between students. The professors that wanted to catch him couldn't have done if they'd tried, but most of them looked as if they would much rather leave the problem to somebody else.

By the time Rudolf emerged at the end of the seventh floor corridor, he was almost out of breath. It was just as well that he had done all that running, for though he now felt rather sick (he regretted that last slice of treacle tart), he had also exhausted himself. Years of experience had taught him that trying to fall asleep with even an ounce of energy left in him was practically impossible. Rudolf, still running like a plane, had just turned the corner when he flew straight into something. No, not something, someone. He leapt back, yelping in surprise. "Hey! Watch where you're going! Are you blind or something?" he said, scowling as he inspected himself for damage.

 

[Phoebe Callwell]

Phoebe had yet to leave the warm embrace of her bed for the day, and the clock was nearing the afternoon. The petite Gryffindor supposed it was time to move from her spot, her body having indented the mattress from her staying stagnant for so long. The felt of her light weight blanket rubbed against the bare skin of her legs, which prickled slightly if she moved under a colder area of the covers. Rolling to her side Phoebe reached around her room and finally, after a moment of struggling, felt the cold metal of her walking cane. "Watch out." She warned to anyone who was in the room, not aware she was alone. With a flick of her wrist the cane extended and she stood up. Finally her lids parted to reveal the brown-white of her eyes, and she stood for a minute, trying to imagine what the room must look like. She was a Gryffindor, a lion they said. She'd been told their colors were gold and red, and she could still picture those colors in her mind. She wondered if the entirety of the room was decorated lavishly. Her bed seemed fairly standard, but the rug under her feet was plush, the hardwood cold and smooth. She assumed it was hardwood anyways - as it didn't feel like stone.

The young woman made her way to her dresser and pulled from it a pair of shorts, as well as a t-shirt. She only owned blue jeans as ar as she could tell, from what her mother told her anyways. Slipping clothing on, the woman finally felt ready to take on the day, her curls left loose and unbrushed - as they did not often need more than a smoothing with her own hands. Not like she could tell what the strands were doing anyways. With her cane pulling her down the stairs to the great lawn - as she'd told it to, Phoebe had zero cares. Until, that was, someone bumped into her going near full speed. Caught off guard the girl stumbled, but held her ground. She was near to asking why he'd been running, when a comment that was slight shocking to her reached her ears. With a few exasperated blinks she held her cane up slightly and jabbing in the general direction of the voice With the echos of the halls though it was hard to tell if she was going to poke him or not. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am blind." She spoke indignantly, waiting adn hoping for an apology.

 

[Rudolf Lagowski]

Rudolf was horrified. Sweet baby Merlin - of all the people he could have run into! He gaped at the girl in front of him, whom he knew from lessons to be called Phoebe, and was for half a second perversely grateful that she couldn't see his reaction. "S... sorry," he stammered, his hands held awkwardly out in front of him as if debating whether or not he should brush her off. His mind was made up for him when her enchanted cane jabbed him straight in the shin. "Ow," he said, taking the gesture as a warning to step back. It was just as well he did - the curly haired boy was blushing so hard that it wouldn't have surprised him if Phoebe had felt the heat radiating from his face.

A few seconds later, Rudolf had composed himself. He quickly looked the girl up and down before settling his eyes on her face. He'd never seen her up so close before. The gentle torch light on her face almost seemed to make her glow. Rudolf cleared his throat. "Sorry," he said again, this time with a little more feeling. "I, er... it's Rudolf. From Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts and stuff. Oh!" exclaimed the Gryffindor suddenly, remembering something he had failed to find the courage to say until now. He puffed out his chest and beamed. "I wondered if you wanted me to, like, you know, do your notes for you in class," he said, completely oblivious to any insensitivity he might be causing her. In Rudolf's opinion, he was being quite the white knight.

 

[Phoebe Callwell]

Phoebe could feel the awkward silence in the hall between the two of them, and couldn't help but smile just slightly. She was sure that he was going on in his head about what he had just said to her. After all, who would expect a woman they spoke to so rudely, was actually blind? Perhaps it was sick, but there was some satisfaction out of that. The petite Italian woman retracted her cane upon hearing him say ow. She supposed she didn't think she'd actually hit him. "Sorry, I was just trying to make a point." She remarked, her accent thick and foreign to this school. Her cane now held in both hands, she attempted to remember if she knew Rudolf. She certainly was unable to put a name to a face - considering she'd not seen anyone, and thus gave an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure if i remember."

The boy continued to talk, and while she was sure his offer for a note take was strictly for pure intentions, she felt herself grip her staff a little tighter. "I don't need a note taker, I'm perfectly capable doing things myself. Her chin was held up, the pride of her lion house showing through in that moment. After all, Phoebe had too much pride for her own good. The blonde moved a hand to her hair, brushing back the messy curls. She could smell her shampoo, thick in the air as her hair moved from her shoulder to fall into place on her back. The scent of strawberries was strong, and frankly Phoebe couldn't help but wish she'd bought something with a more mild scent. Being that she didn't have the gift of sight, she often found some smells overwhelming to her, and while she enjoyed stopping to smell the flowers, being bombarded with one scent was too much for her. Her nose crinkled, and she covered her face to sneeze. "I'm sorry." She spoke, excusing herself.