Open Letters To Home

[Avery Lancaster]

Avery had spent a long time trying to come up with a letter to send home to his mother. He'd been excited to tell her the news, ever since he had won the Quidditch match for Slytherin, just as his father had in the past, but he agonized over how she'd react. She had been hesitant about him joining the team from the start, and he couldn't be sure how well she'd take it. He wanted her to be proud of him, as proud as he was of himself, but there was no telling if it would please her or upset her. It was always the latter, anytime he seemed to remind her of who his father was. Just once, he wanted it to be a good thing. He'd come up with a letter, one he'd not been completely happy with, and by the time he'd reached the owlery to deliver it, he'd scrunched it up and tossed it away to start writing something new. He had to be careful with how he worded it, and nothing he came up with felt quite right. So he found a clear spot beneath the owls to sit, tapping ink blots onto a piece of parchment with his quill as he thought.​

 

[Cameron Roswell]

Cameron's muttered had gotten louder with each successive flight of stairs to get up to the Owlery. Why couldn't they have one closer to the ground for people who didn't have dorms up in the towers. He pulled as his shirt as he finally stepped into the Owlery proper, grateful for the breeze let in by the open windows before pulling a face at the distinct animal smell in the room. "Gross," he muttered, squinting at some of the owls and trying to figure out how he was supposed to do this. He'd written a letter to Mum but he'd never used owl post before. Mum had spoken about it fondly sometime, seemingly smitten with how whimsical it was but in Cameron's mind it just seemed impractical. How was he supposed to trust a bird not to drop his letter or something.

He was peering into the rafters, trying to decide which owl looked the most responsible when he realized someone else was up here already, camped on the floor writing a letter. "Hey, aren't you the quidditch guy," he said belatedly, recognizing the boy from the last quidditch game. "You're gonna get crapped on sitting there."

 

[Avery Lancaster]

Avery shouldn't have been surprised not to find himself alone for long. People came here every day to send their letters, so it had only been a matter of time. He supposed he didn't think it would take him long to figure out what to write, yet it had been harder to put to paper his thoughts than he first realised. He was caught off guard by the direct question, not expecting the boy who had appeared to do more than send off whatever letter he needed to. The quidditch guy. Was that who he was to people now? "I'm one of the seekers." He clarified. An alternate, technically, but after winning the last match for Slytherin there was no telling what would happen. He glanced up at the owls above him. It wasn't the best location to be, but again, he didn't think he'd be there as long as he had. "That's a sign of good luck." He explained, though he gave it brief consideration. "It might not be true luck if I force the circumstances." His brow furrowed. "...I should move." He decided, shuffling to get up from his position.​

 

[Cameron Roswell]

Cameron shrugged when the quidditch guy clarified which position he played. "Yeah, I knew that," he lied, stepping a little closer to one of the open windows in the hopes that the breeze would help him cool down after trekking upstairs. "Sounds like crap luck to me," he said with a snort, shaking his head at Quidditch Guy, gratified when he still listened to Cameron and moved. "You know it's probably better to write your letter at a desk or something first too, aye," he added. "Unless you want crap on that too." Cameron was kind of relieved to have someone up here to talk to that didn't have feathers as well, maybe if Quidditch Guy was cool Cameron could ask him for some advice on picking an owl. He didn't really want to get biten to have his letter lost or something.