Open Winter Drizzles

[Pixie Longmire]

Pixie was always looking for the quiet spots in the school, secluded and away from other students. She didn't thereofre often come to the quidditch pitch, not being good at sports and a dislike of crowds had always meant she didn't like it, but the school was overrun with noisey students first years and otherwise, getting to know people or catching up. There wasn't a quiet spot anywhere, but she'd come outside and then to the quidditch pitch. It wasn't exactly a warm day and it seemed to drizzling on and off, but that was half why she'd come to the pitch, no one else would be here, she could have some peace. Pixie had brought with her a yellow umbrella and was using it and a thick jacket to keep warm and dry. It was days like these that she did miss the near constant sunshine of her home, but being a witch the moody weather was better. She was sat cross legged in the hufflepuff stands with no one around her, with her standard book of spells in front of her, just practicing. She was always practicing her magic. She wanted to be a good witch, she didn't care for history or astronomy, she didn't care for subjects where she didn't learn practical magic. She sort of wished she'd brought some tea or something, but all she had was a simple bluebells fire spell burning a sheet of old parchment and she was able to warm her hands with it if she held them above it. It wasn't ideal but at least she finally had what she wanted. Quiet. ​

 

[Professor Angel Castillo]

There were scant few places to get a little peace and quiet around a place like Hogwarts. Even Angel's office wasn't quiet these days, between watching Amanita or babysitting screechsnaps, there was always someone wanting his attention. He'd slunk out to the stands, hoping the grisly weather would keep all but the most dedicated Quidditch players off the pitch and leave him a little time to think, though his optimism was quickly quashed when he spotted someone else had beaten him to the punch.

"Here I was thinking I was the only one who knew about this spot," Angel said mildly, shuffling his way along the stadium seating before taking a seat near the young student. It probably defeated the point to go sit near her, but Angel found himself mildly more open to chatting if he could guarantee it was just one student, and not one of his frazzled OWL kids either. "Best seats in the house, huh," he said, nodding out to the empty pitch, it looking particularly mournful under the grey sky above.

 

[Pixie Longmire]

Pixie's peace remained for some time, when eventually she heard someone speak. She knew immediately it was an older voice and she looked up to be greeted by the face of a professor. He wasn't a professor she had, but she knew he was the herbology professor for older years. She'd be in his class soon enough. She gave a little nod at what he said and then looked at her the fact she was holding out her wand and the little bluebell fire, wondering if he was here to give her into trouble. She looked back at him sheepishly and hoped he wouldn't mind. She wasn't even sure if she should say anything, if she should introduce herself or explain why she was there. "Ehm," she made a noise but her words immediately left her before she could form her sentence. ​

 

[Professor Angel Castillo]

Angel waved a hand dismissively at the look the girl gave him, focusing on making himself comfortable, stretching out and unfolding his legs to rest them along the row of seats in front of him. "Shame about the weather, aye," he said, folding his hands behind his head and looking back down at the girl near him. "You can relax, I'm friendly, promise," he added with a grin. Angel had mostly gotten used to being a professor after a few years, which was still a wild concept to reflect on, really, but it never stopped being amusing to find kids who were so clearly cowed by his presence. It'd be fun if it didn't put such a damper on conversation.

 

[Pixie Longmire]

Pixie wasn't sure if she was much reassured by his statement. At the very least she didn't think she'd get into trouble with her little control bluebells fire. But she wasn't sure how she could still speak to him. Perhaps no less because she had that problem with pretty much everyone. She shrugged and was a little more relaxed that before but marginally so. She wasn't sure if she should keep reading or try her best to talk to him. "Herbology?" she did eventually ask, but rather than the full sentence of looking to confirm he taught herbology, all she managed to do was say the word as a question. ​