Here Comes the Sun

[Indianna Lee]

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The minutes only seemed to be growing longer and longer for the fifteen year old as the soft hues
of her hazel eyes sought those that passed by in silence. Most of them, it seemed, were students
though she couldn’t be sure of what school. Yet their animated conversations, their golden smiles
and their irrepressible excitement inflicted Indianna with discomfort. Their sociable conversations
intimidated her, brought about a sick and all too familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach and all of
a sudden she surprised herself by wishing that Mémère would hurry on up and arrive soon as she
was already an hour late. Indianna’s grandmother, although loving, was a stringent woman. Being
late was just not her. The young girl sighed and stared down at the mobile phone in her hand with
a twinge of hatred, it was the first time she had fished it from her drawer in a year and it was only
for their benefit. Her grandparents weren’t magical beings you see, they were boringly ordinary, a
dime a dozen although she’d never let Mémère know such thoughts. If Indianna Grace had things
her way, they too would be just a tiny speck in her past. Indianna hated her grandmother’s harsh
French tongue and the way her 'the' turned into a 'zee'. She hated the lingering breath of tobacco
on her grandfather’s teeth and that their house smelled of potpourri. She hated the way they used
more than one set of cutlery a dinnertime and that they had a bowl full of plastic fruit on display in
their dining room. But most of all she hated that they were parents to him, her father, the man that
had caused her mother so much hurt, so much heart ache, so many tears and awful bruises along
her body. They knew the kind of man he was, they hadn’t spoken to Javier for years. And he had
run off somewhere long ago. They loved Indianna’s mother like their own, despite the leap in the
cultures and she loved them back. But Indi couldn’t bring herself to feel the same, it sickened her.

She had thought that it might have been all over when her grandfather had taken up a placement
in an industry that still had the young girl beat, half-way across the world in New Zealand. France
and England, that was more than manageable. But travelling to a different hemisphere altogether
seemed a little farfetched. Though apparently not to anyone but her. Just then, as her mouth had
formed an unconscious pout the mobile bleated loudly in her hand and stirred her sleeping kitten
who awoke with a soft mew. Indi jabbed at the buttons furiously, wasting a second trying to figure
how to turn the irritating tune off before retrieving the message from the inbox. It was littered with
French and her influent mouth had to curl around the vowels to decipher it but eventually gave up
when she learnt that it would be another couple of hours before she could be picked up. Huffing,
Indi threw the contraption into her woven bag. It wasn't often that she grew frustrated or infuriated
with anybody but just because they were Lee’s conjured a grudge within her. “Hmph, what are we
going to do now Atticus?” She questioned the tiny kitten silently but he had fallen straight back to
sleep and responded only with a timid flick of his tail and the contented flex of a paw. The raven-
haired girl smiled at him, the dimples in her cheeks flashed momentarily, before her gaze twirled
down to her knees and watched as the roses laced in her tights seemed to weave before her very
eyes, entranced for only a second before being faced with the reality of the situation. She still had
two hours to kill. From where Indi sat, cross-legged on a spacious wooden bench, she could still
see the students flocking to the stores and all caught up in conversations. She wished that Falcon
or Mia were here with her to keep her company instead of all these strange faces. A second sigh
broke from her Indi’s lips and she reached gingerly for her guitar, unzipping it from its case easily.

The light in her eyes practically glowed at the sight of the ivory instrument, the strings were simply
begging to be strummed, to showcase all that she had learnt over her ten years of playing it. In a
manner so careful so as not to disturb the kitten nesting in the ruffled fabric of her dress, Indianna
brought the guitar to her chest and hugged its body close against hers. Her delicate fingers came
to dance across the strings in an unrecognisable tune, one she improvised on the spot before she
began to pluck out the harmony of a tune her mother had been teaching her before the beginning
of the semester. Indianna had made it her business to master it before holidays came around but
she was still a little wooden and rusty, repeating the intro over again as she confused notes on an
occasion. And then it was as if the students around her had disappeared, it was all the music now.
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[Sam Prince]

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His head throbbed painfully and it certainly was not being aided by the giddy laughter and chatter of Hogwarts students or the playful banter of the twin boys as they tugged at their mother. As Sam watched the rowdy crowd, the pulsating headache became more painful and he began to hear the pulse in his head even above the ringing the stiletto heels made as they hit against the cobbled pavement. However, it was not the simple clatter of heels or the stubborn cries of children or the raucous behavior brandished by Hogwarts students that caused this throbbing pain in his head. It was the fact that Sam had unwilling spent the past two hours in different clothing stores looking for a simple black suit that would be suitable for the Yule Ball. The whole thing seemed very unfair. Not only had he to use up his free time searching for the monotonous piece of clothing, he had to attend the ball with a girl that he barely knew. He wouldn't have minded any other year but the fact that himself and Riley were almost an item, just made matters worse. Not only could he not attend the ball with Riley, he couldn't seek help from her when he was shopping. He knew she didn't want him to attend the ball with Hilde as much as he didn't so it was very unlikely that she would help him buy a suit for the dance. However, there was no point thinking of what could have been, it was a set date. The deal was made. What Sam had to focus on now was the fact that he still had no suit, no dress robes, and a sore head. If he didn't find something soon, he was pretty sure he would attend the ball in his usual casual attire of jeans and a t-shirt.

The sixteen year old sat on one of the many wooden benches. The dark green paint crumbled off with just a simple touch and so Sam's finger's were occupied by peeling off the jagged paint chippings. However his eyes focused on the people who passed him by. The people who did not even acknowledge his presence, the people that seemed to be in a completely different world than he was. Even though he was outside now, he still felt the suffocating horror that was the many Wizarding boutiques that he was forced to go to. He still felt the humid temperature of the shop, the glares and arguments of teenage girls around him snatching and pulling at dresses, all secretly competing against each for the nicest dress. Shopping was something that Sam definitely could not master nor could he barely understand. How was it that girls could go so far in calling it a hobby? Sports, art, music maybe even muggle tv but shopping? Sam found himself dreading the time of year where he would have to purchase his school things whereas he was pretty sure girls took pleasure in doing it. Which is why most years, he took along Taylor or one of his other girl friends, sometimes even his cousin Ava - but that was only when things got very desperate. He pleaded for their help for the sole reason to save himself from being in the situation that he was in at that very moment; alone, empty-handed and sitting in the midst of the crowd not really knowing what to do next.

Sam's finger's trailed up and down the arm of the bench absentmindly, picking off the loose bits of paint. The crowd seemed to have dispearsed over the few minutes that Sam watched them. The noise lessened and the pulsating headache that he was burdened with ceased. It was just about close to complete silence when he heard the unmistakable sound of a guitar starting up. Sam's widened blue eyes turned to the source of the sound. There he saw her, a raven haired girl on a bench on the opposite side of the street. From what he could she seemed to be about his age. Sam watched her, her fingers as she strummed, as they struggled to reach some notes. Yet there was something about the way she played guitar that was quite mesmirising. There was nothing in the air to obstruct the sound, no one to obstruct the sight of the girl and Sam had subconcsiceously stopped peeling the paint off of the armrest. Sam pushed himself up off of the bench and began to walk towards her. The soles of his converse grazed the cobbled street softly but it was not loud enough to disturb the girl. Sam dug his hand deeply into the pockets of his shorts, his fingers curled around the golden coins in his pocket and he played around with them, standing only a metre or so away from the girl. Just listening to the sound that soothed his tired mind. Then, taking a few galleons from his pockets -galleons that were supposed to be spent on a suit - and threw them down into the empty guitar case before walking back up the street to resume his attempt at shopping.
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Credits
Template and Graphics made by me.​

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[Indianna Lee]

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The soulful, two-toned pair of eyes never left the strings of the guitar as they hummed at every soft,
gentle note, the vibrations reaching deep through her fingertips, calloused already from the years of
practice behind her. It were as if the people that surrounded her, all the students and their motored
mouths, had simply disapparated into thin air the moment the sweet music curled out from the body
of her guitar. Though it had always been like this for Indianna, long ago her mother had teased her
that while all of the other kids her age would have their eyes glued to the television set, hers would
not be pried away from the guitar. At the age of nine Indianna had pouted, denied it in a whiny state
of self consciousness because no kid wanted to be called different. But after the fiasco that was her
father, Indi knew it to be true. She was different and on so many various levels it just frightened her.

The harmony had grown more natural as Indi settled herself into the mood, her fingers a little more
lithe, her eyes a little more keen and her ears just lapping up the sheer beauty of the classic song.
But just as the last bar of the chorus came into play a metallic jangle of coins clattered beneath her
feet. Startled and feeling her heart accelerate to that same old flight reaction pace of hers, Indianna
found herself nearly afraid to look. Having stopped the music already, her fingers gripped the neck
of the guitar, feeling the strings embed lines into her now clammy palm; eyes wide, breath hindered
and oblivious to those that were staring curiously at her, wondering why on earth she had stopped
playing so suddenly. But she herself was curious and so, leant forward in her cross-legged position
to peer over the last plane of the bench and into her guitar case. A glint of gold scorched her eyes,
Indi gasped before tearing her eyes down the street and saw a boy with shaggy hair, different from
the others in a way she could not figure, as he strolled away from what Indi assumed had been her.
Delicate fingers reached down and scooped up the coins, the gold already warm in her hands as if
their donation had been contemplated. She had never received a tip before. Well to be fair Indi had
never exactly played in public. But in galleons too? Surely he could better spend them on a broom
stick or whatever else it was that boys her age were interested in. For a moment frozen in time, she
was rooted to the spot, caught somewhere between her shyness and the need to give them back to
the boy. Indi couldn’t possibly accept them, not when Mémère would surely have her rolling in cash
this weekend. With a huff and a nervous flip of her stomach, Indi tightened her fist around the coins
and chased after the generous boy, wondering what had compelled him and doubting her own skill.

“Hey!” She called out in a voice that seemed too big to be her own as her Dr Martins thudded over
the cobblestones, tossing a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure that a particularly irritated
Atticus had fallen back to sleep. Her breaths were heavy and deeply drawn once she reached the
boy, taking a step in front of him in what could only be described as an act of bravery by the young
girl. But her eyes met his, a kinder and deeper shade of blue she was yet to see, and Indianna was
not quite sure if they calmed her or just filled her with a jitter. “Thankyou but I really can’t take your
money.” She spoke gratefully in a voice that was still awed by the gesture. Perhaps it did appear a
little like she was busking, but it had never been her intentions. “I was just bored, I guess.” Indianna
giggled a little as she pressed the coins into his hands, shyly bringing a smile to him as her vision
lifted. “Wouldn’t it be better spent on broom polish or something?” Curiously, she cocked her head
at him and hoped she wasn’t making a fool of herself because for some reason she really cared.
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[Sam Prince]

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Sam continued to make his way up the street, with every step he took he became more and more enveloped by the crowd. The sweet music that was being played could not be heard any longer from the noise of the students beside him, in front of him, and now, behind him. The blazing Spring sun belted down on him and the fact that there was bodies all around him, did not help the heat situation. Brightstone was more or less taken over by Hogwarts students, like it was most of the weekends they got off. Sam usually tried his best to avoid the village like the plague except for the odd time where he might pop in for a butterbeer with his colleagues but other than that, Sam refused to leave the castle on these dates. The dark blue eyes watched only his feet as he walked further into the shopping area. He was beginning to notice bags in the hands of students, bags which had the name of the unpleasant clothing stores that he had been in printed boldy across them. The Hufflepuff actually considered the idea of stealing one of the bags, if a boy was carrying a shopping bag it would have to be for the Yule Ball. So, really, he couldn't go wrong. But the thought didn't linger in his mind, he knew he couldn't and wouldn't do that. But it did leave him quie amused at the image of himself pegging it down the street clutching someone elses shopping bag.

His thoughts were quickly disrupted as he heard someone shout out over the crowd. He didn't pay much attention to it however, it was more than likely not for him. However, only a few seconds later and someone had stepped in front of him. Their eyes instantly met and it didn't take Sam a second longer to remember the face. It was the girl who was buskering but she was giving him back his money? Sam instantly felt embarassed, his cheeks became tainted with a pink colour yet they were burning on the inside. "Oh right.." Was all he could muster out as she placed the coins into his hand. He closed a fist around them before looking up at the girl catching her smile, he smiled back. A smile bearing his white teeth, a smile bearing his embarassment. "Sorry, I kinda just presummed." He continued, his cheeks seemed to resume their natural healthy colour yet they took longer than they usually did to do so. Sam wasn't someone to really take those things to heart. He didn't get worked up over them nor did he really care what people thought when he did them. He had a laid back attitude to most things and so getting embarassed rarely happened to the sixteen year old. However, this time was different, this time he still felt great annoyance at himself for presumming that the girl was busking.

"Broom polish?" Sam asked, a small airy chuckle escaped his lips which was then closed by a lingering smirk. His accent wasn't one that could be placed easily. There was of course, words that he spoke that still dripped with his natural cockeney accent but over the past six years that he had been in New Zealand he picked up a lot on its own accent, being around the people for such a long time really made took affect on him. "I guess broom polish wouldn't be the worst thing to spend the money on." As Sam thought about it he was in fact in desperate need for broom polish. One could say that his Emerald Streak definitely didn't have its shimmering glow off it anymore. Sam could have walked away there and then, he knew he had things to do and he had to be back at the Castle in a couple of hours yet he stood there in front of the girl holding her gaze for just a second or two before looking down at his feet. "Are you interested in Quidditch then..?" He asked her as he looked up once more. If she did like Quidditch or held some sort of interest in it, well then it would be perfect, they would have lots to talk about. Quidditch was a subject he couldn't stop talking about. However, Sam didn't really feel the struggle to come up with conversation. He could have stood in complete silence with the girl and still felt quite comfortable and as he looked at her he couldn't figure it out, what it was that made the sixteen year old feel so much at ease with a perfect stranger.
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Credits
Template and Graphics done by me.​

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[Indianna Lee]

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The speed at which the raven-haired girl’s mind was racing was incredulous, fast enough for her heart and
her sense to get left so far behind she might as well have shut them both in her guitar case. Just what kind
of nerve had possessed her to chase after this blue-eyed boy before her? And much less, to shout out and
grab his attention? To say that befriended Falcon had plucked her confidence up might very well be true, but
by this much? Indianna’s varicoloured irises never strayed from him the entire time as she waited with baited
breath for her timid nature to come galloping back. Yet even though his had seemed to take a grasp, by the
heat that’s flush seemed to stain his cheeks, all Indianna found she wanted to do was giggle out aloud at the
sheer sweetness of it all. She swallowed the urge though and watched as he returned her smile with one of
his very own, a sheepish kind of one at that. There was something so dazzling and yet so warming about it
that had Indianna wishing he’d smile at her all day long. Humbled suddenly by her boldness, the young girl
coughed a little uncomfortably into a curled and tiny fist. Surely it wasn’t right for her to be thinking of things
like this about somebody she hadn’t even learnt the name of. That couldn’t be good, for Indi it just couldn’t.

It would seemed as if her introversion managed to catch up to her after all as he questioningly repeated the
passing suggestion she had made. Broom polish? Broom polish! The breath of a chuckle that escaped him
was not lost on Indianna, nor was the hint of slyness at the very corners of his lips. The blood beneath her
skin had begun to boil in embarrassment bringing a crimson blush to her cheeks as her teeth captured her
lower lip and wondered if the was even such a thing. It was typical, so very typical of the fifteen year old to
grow bashful like this before the opposite sex. Even holding out this long was a track record for Indi. Soon
her eyes had made a trace down to her shoes, noticing the weave of the laces seemed tighter on one than
the other. And yet, unlike all those that had come before him, Indianna didn’t feel the need to flee from the
boy. In fact she was much tempted by the possibility of lingering, learning, maybe even making a friend who
could aid as her great escape from her overbearing grandmother. The deeper melody of his voice washed
over Indi again, doe eyes glanced up at him, a sweet smile on her lips. So she hadn’t been that off the mark
after all, especially for someone who couldn’t tell you the first rule of Quidditch, which was then mentioned.

With a wrinkle of her button nose, Indianna shook her head playfully at the question. It wasn’t as if she didn’t
like the sport or anything, it have never really been given the chance to be judged in her books. There were
so many other things that captured her interest, stole her time away. She hadn’t even flown a broom yet, let
alone played a game of Quidditch, despite being supposed to have had flying lessons in her first year. It was
about the time her father had left her mother and she had been given special permission by the headmaster
to stay back at home for a little longer and even though the promise had been made by the instructor to try
to catch her up, it had never happen. All her students had said that she’d been a little funny in the head any
way. “I’ve, um, never actually flown in my life. I want to one day but I don’t think my friends are that capable
of teaching me how, and yeah...” Indi gave a small shrug of her shoulders, pressed a dimpled smile onto her
expression and tugged a little at the cotton hem of her dress. “You play then, I take it?” Indianna carried the
conversation with more ease than usual, genuinely interested in what the boy with the deep blue eyes had
to say and found herself entertaining the thought of flying and the game of Quidditch now more than ever
that he had implied his interest. Why she was so influenced by him escaped her, but she didn’t mind at all.
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[Sam Prince]

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A soft warm breeze blew through each individual that was around them, reminding Sam that he was not alone in the street with this stranger, something that he had unintentionally forgotten. But it was the scent of the girl that was being carried by the breeze which brought him back. Her sweet smell returned him to just her. No one else. No noise from the babbling crowd. No hasty footsteps along the uneven street. No crispy crunch from the clashing of paper bags. It was just the two of them. He admittedly felt a sense of relief wash over him, because with her, it felt that he was not so alone in his separate world. He didn't taste that sense of loneliness that he had tasted before when he sat on the old bench. Before he had walked over and threw coins in her empty guitar case. Before he even heard the precious music from the girl. Before he was even aware of her presence. If it wasn't for the Wizarding watch on the wrist of his arm, ticking along with each passing second, Sam would be made believe that it was much longer than a few minutes since he had known this girl.

As the raven haired girl shook her head in response to his question, Sam couldn't help but feel rather disappointed. He probably would never see nor speak to her again and yet he was disappointed that she did not share his passion in Quidditch? It was silly of him to jump to conclusions though, just like it had been when he assumed that she was busking. Jumping to certain ideas was something that Sam would have to work on in the future, either that or become less sensitive when people did not share his passionate interest in Quidditch. Yet even though he jumped to the conclusion that she was busking and suffered a minor embarassment from it, he wouldn't change things, not one bit of it. When the girl announced that she had never flown, Sam was intensely taken aback. Her sweet voice echoed through his ears and as her words firmly settled in, Sam arched an eyebrow. Which was then, added to the overall playfully shocked expression that was planted on his devishly handsome face. It did come as quite a shock to Sam that a girl, that certainly looked around his age, had not ever flown a broom before.

"That's a crime." He said simply with a serious note in his deep mellow tone, his smile however showed that he was not all that serious. Her own smile caught his eye and as his blue eyes slowly moved up her face, studying each detail in her flawless skin carefully, his smile seemed to disappear along with his playful visage, as if he was suddenly concentrating. Whereas the truth remained, that he was simply swept off his feet by this complete stranger and he didn't know why. His signature smile returned immediately when he caught her gaze, just as she asked if he played. With an eager nod, Sam said, "Oh yeah all the time." It was even obvious in how he spoke of Quidditch that made his passion for the sport exposed. His words bounced with excitement when he spoke of Quidditch and even within that short sentence his love for Quidditch was clear. But the Hufflepuff was not ready to move on from the fact that she had not rode a broom, just yet. "Seriously though, you have never rode a broom? Ever?" He brought his hand to the back of his neck and his fingers scratched his skin beneath his shaggy hair as he tried to figure out a reason for this. In most of the Wizarding school's they did have some sort of flying facility, so there would have been no reason for not getting the chance there. But that was if she went to a Wizarding school at all, perhaps she was home schooled? As these thoughts buzzed through his brain he subconscienously realised that he was taking far too much interest in the stranger, yet, he was doing absolutely nothing to stop it.

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Credits
Template and Graphics done by me.​

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[Indianna Lee]

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The colour never seemed to stray far from Indianna’s cheeks in the presence of any boy, but this one was
different altogether. Her eyes stayed faithful to his face as his expression contorted into one of horrendous
surprise yet she could pick the light humour in the arch of his brow, in the gleam of his ocean blue eyes, in
contours of his smile. Yet the stern tone of his voice, still deeply melodic in every way imaginable, came to
a contradiction and it made the fifteen year old giggle anew, the sweet, soft effort of it staining her cheeks
with light rose hue. “And you’re what? The broomstick police?” The arch in Indianna’s own eyebrows were
raised as she folded her arms across her chest in a manner that mocked an unimpressed state and a boot
clad foot wrapped out a steady few beats against the cobblestones. The act was impossible to keep up for
long though and Indi allowed her arms to fall back to her sides with a laugh so gentle and a shy gaze up at
the boy’s handsome face. In slow realisation, Indianna mused to herself that this might have just been the
most attractive boy she had ever laid eyes on. Her hazel eyes studied his face frantically, searching for an
imperfection that might just disprove the truth. But he was flawless, everything was flawless. And his eyes,
oh his eyes. Why was it that boys always had such nice eyes? Her lapse in self-control lasted for no more
than a fleeting moment though, just a mess of thoughts puddling her mind. She stood before his tall figure,
expecting a teeter of awkwardness on her part, a sudden deprivation of her voice, because it was always
the most handsome ones she found herself unsociable before. But all she felt was a familiar comfort, as if
she had known him for as long as she had Mia and yet this insatiable drive for more understanding of him.

Quidditch, it seemed, was a passion of his. It was more than noticeable by the dashing smile on his face,
the sudden chime in his voice and his readiness to return her with an answer. Indianna was kicking herself
now for not paying more attention to the famed wizarding sport instead of losing herself in her sketchbook
or in the music she strummed out on her guitar. By no means was the conversation uneasy, a definite first
when it came to Indi and the opposite sex, she didn’t need to know all about the sport for the two of them
to get along or so they had proved so far. But she felt a connection between them that needed to be fed. It
were as if liking the sport and having the ability to fly a broom would bring her just that step closer to him,
an opportunity she was sour to have to pass by. Dainty fingers reached up and combed through her loose
ebony curls absentmindedly as Indi stretched her gaze upwards, finding the nameless boy again and she
noted that he seemed to have something else still lingering in his mind, which in turn left Indianna curious.

"Seriously though, you have never rode a broom? Ever?" A laugh bubbled up from her chest, she should
have guessed he was still lost on that, it was quite the oddity after all. It wasn’t too often you met any witch
that had never ridden a broom in her life before. Still, Indianna shook her head with her knuckles pressed
up against her lips in an attempt to stifle her out of control smiles. “I.. Um..” Indi grinned, throwing one last
impressive smile before settling herself for a proper answer to return to him. “Well I got a little caught up in
my first year with stuff that was happening at home and well I came back and flying lessons were as good
as over.” The girl gave a slight shrug of her petite shoulders, that was as explanatory as it got. No deathly
fear of heights or pathetic lack of coordination. Just a father she was ashamed to call her own. An idea so
bold yet so exciting raced through her mind that Indianna could barely contain it from the blue-eyed boy in
her midst. Her mouth flew open to speak it but she slammed it closed within seconds. The pair of them still
didn’t know each other’s names, how could she suggest something so suddenly? But as her bright eyes of
green and honey searched his expression for the countless time, Indianna got the feeling that if she didn’t
make a mention she’d be tossing away a friendship too extraordinary for her to believe. “Maybe you could
teach me how to fly then.” Her beaming smile was a struggle to suppress, but she lost out anyway and it
soon pricked the dimples in her cheeks. “Of course, if you want to that is but that would be fantastic. And
I’m sure you’d top Beauxbatons flying professor hands down.” Again and again she was thwarted by this
secret reservoir of confidence, awed by its precision in timing and her own exercise of it. “I’m Indianna by
the way, though my friends all call me Indi.” She smiled, sure that by the afternoon her cheeks would be
aching like crazy, and offered a tiny hand in anticipation of the warmth of his skin, the return of his name.
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[Sam Prince]

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It was as if a sudden wave of contentment washed over Sam as he stood talking to the girl. If he were to eventually tell the tale of this meeting to any one of his friends, he could describe her as the perfect stranger. Because that was what she was. There was no doubt about it that Sam was feeling more than comfortable beside her, their conversation effortless and to be frank, everything about her was simply perfect. Her eyes, her laugh, that smile and the dimple in her cheek which seemed to come as a package deal with that smile. Sam could watch her all day, she was simply beautiful. But what was more, she didn't seem to be in an awful hurry to leave and get back to her own life. She too, was quite set on talking to him in the middle of the street on a Saturday afternoon. She too, seemed to find just as much ease in their conversation as he had. Like a click of ones fingers they seemed to have become instant friends, in such a time that wouldn't be easily believed. But Sam believed it and he was pretty sure the nameless stranger did too. "Me? No.." Sam said in return shaking his head in what appeared to be perfect seriousness, "But you'd want to be careful. They could be around." Humour was something that came natural to Sam and as he looked over his shoulders in search of such police, he held back a breezy laugh and a winning smile.

Blinking away the remains of his playful visage, he looked down at the girl, their eyes instantly connecting, just like their conversation or being in each other's presence, it was effortless finding her gaze. Her eyes were a blissful array of green and gold, they were eyes that he wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon. As she explained her reason for not having flown a broom before, Sam found it difficult to concentrate. Everything was still very overwhleming for the sixteen year old, he wasn't sure would he ever really come to terms with any of it. But he had still managed to hear every word she said and he nodded simply, allowing her to know that he understood her reason for not being given the chance of flying. He still believed that they should have Flying as a subject right up to OWL level at least. Why was it that they bored students with a subject about plants, yet flying was terminated after everyone's first year? There was nothing else to be said on the matter and as she opened her mouth to say something, Sam was eager to hear her voice again, to hear what she had to say. But to his own disappointment, she had closed her mouth just as fast as she had opened it. It made Sam want to ask her what it was that was about to escape her lips, but that action seemed unnecessary as it was obvious she was mulling it over in her head and as she spoke, it took Sam by suprise but there was no need to think twice about his answer.

"I'd love to." His words slipped from his mouth quickly, as if they couldn't get out fast enough, he was suprised they didn't all jumble together in fact. Everything seemed to be moving so fast that it was hard for the boy to keep track of it all. But he enjoyed the many surprises that occured when he was with her. It wasn't usual for Sam to encounter this many surprises in the space of a few minutes. He rarely encountered this many surprises in the space of a week. Sam scuffled a worn shoe against the pavement and kept his eyes away from her's as much as he could as she told him he would be better than the Beauxbatons professor, something he highly doubted but had made him bashful all the same. A gracious chuckle was Sam's reply to that, a chuckle so light it could barely be heard and as Sam's eyes slowly looked up from the pavement, he noted her hand being held out. Indianna, Sam repeated her name in his head with a smile forming on his lips. He brought his money free hand towards hers and as her slender fingers brushed against his palm, Sam instantly clasped his hand arounds hers. "Sam." Was all he said while he shook her hand just the one time, his smile fully developed on his lips, a smile mirroring her own. It was all he could manage to say but there was no such tone of unfriendliness in his voice, it oozed with a certain friendly warmth. He found it quite odd that they were only doing their introductions now, so late into their meeting. Unwillingly, Sam let go of her hand feeling the touch of her fingers lingering on his skin as it dropped to his side.

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Credits
Template and Graphics done by me.​

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[Indianna Lee]

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Standing before the boy and all that he had unknowingly intrigued her with, Indianna felt an ache, dull and
slow throb through her dimpled cheeks. Gentle fingertips grazed softly along the edges of her smile, bright
as ever and not once did she consider resting it for the time being. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t. There was
something that struck Indi as special about this boy, something that had had her at hello. Because if it had
been anyone else, young or old, boy or girl, surely they wouldn’t have been able to wear through her timid
nature with one glance, one smile, one laugh. Soulful eyes ghosted again and again over him throughout
their conversation yet Indianna couldn’t for the life of her put her finger down on it. There was not a single
male before him that had ever gotten a word so easily out of her, even the ones that had known Indianna
for as many years as the minutes that she had been bathing in the odd comfort of the handsome stranger.
No more did the once so timid girl dare to question such a chance though, and why she suddenly wanted
this boy to know her inside out like he might the words of a loved song, or the lines of his favourite movie,
Indianna was simply contented enough to bring time to a standstill with him amongst the crowded village.

To throw such a brash suggestion out there when she didn’t even know his name was not like Indianna at
all and there were so many boys who had attempted at least a friendship with her to vouch for it. But then,
perhaps this was her. The person her father’s violent nature had blanketed beneath a shyness she found it
so difficult to shake. Her stomach churned nervously inside of her as their gazes hooked, but little did Indi
know that it didn’t all have to do with the anticipation of his answer. The boy’s words poured marvellously
from his lips and Indianna savoured each tiny one behind the smile that had graced expression. All three
of them. Because not only had he not blown her off, smiled a “maybe” and been off with it, but he had said
he’d love to. The girl was fighting not to jump for joy before him and to her surprise, also struggling to keep
her arms by her sides in an effort not to throw them around him in a hug. Each and every nerve sparked in
Indianna, and all that she managed to return him with was yet another flashy smile. What else could she
possibly say to him? Because thankyou just didn’t seem to stretch far enough. Cocking her head cutely to
the left, eyes of green and gold observed his shy retreat, right down to the humbled scuff of his shoe along
the ground and she realised one thing more. It was not that she was going to fly that was the most exciting
thing, it was purely for the fact that he, this perfectly sweet blue-eyed stranger, would be teaching her how.

Sam. Sam. Indianna thought to herself with a smile as soft as their handshake sweeping oh so gently over
her coral pink lips. The warmth between their skin astonished the girl, caught her breath inside of her while
the gesture was exchanged and only when they let their hands slide did she exhale it slowly. Sam and Indi,
came the girlish thought and hand-in-hand with it, a colour to her cheeks. Their names played well against
one another and Indianna could only assume it was a pairing that would be so much more frequent as the
two came to befriend one another to an even greater extent than their spontaneous meeting. “Well I’d love
you to teach me Sam.” A declaring grin rode over her and Indi could no longer deny her urges as it did so.
Her arms stretched up to him to curl up at the height of his shoulders before she could change her easily
wavered mind. The embrace between the new found friends was only brief but Indi treasured it with all that
she had, taking in the way he smelt for all its worth and wondered lingeringly how familiar it might become
to her if their friendship grew like she hoped it would. All too soon it would seem and Indianna was a couple
of feet away from him again, the blush now heavy in her cheeks as she recounted what she had just done,
what she never would have done with anybody else. “So what are you up to then? I’m guessing these kids
go to school with you?” Indianna laughed in amusement, nodding her head over Sam’s shoulder towards a
gaggle of first years with some sort of purchase from a wizarding joke store, cacking themselves at one kid
who seemed to have something awfully putrid growing on the side of his face. Cringing good naturedly she
turned her lightly amused focus back to Sam with a shrug that pointedly spoke a “well, what can you do?”
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