hp (scarheaded) wrote in fourteenshades, @ 2012-09-12 20:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | harry potter, x-adrian pucey |
Who: Harry Potter & Adrian Pucey
What: When in doubt, go for a fly
Where: Down at the pitch
When: Wednesday afternoon
Rating/Status: TBD
Harry still didn't quite understand the concept of the village. How and why did he get there? He could appreciate being with people he loved that had died in the "real world" but he was starting to see the drawbacks. He didn't mind being a dad, but he felt like he missed years of learning curve. They had to be easier before they could walk and talk, didn't they? He was grateful that Albus hadn't spoken to Bellatrix, at least where he could see. But he wasn't convinced the younger boys thirst for forbidden knowledge had run its course. He wished Albus would ask him about it. At least Harry could teach him the things he might need to know in some kind of context. Not to mention that Ron and Hermione were all up in arms, presumably over the play. He felt a little alone, actually, and he wondered where Ginny was and what she was up to. He wondered if she had been having as much trouble being a mum as he was being a dad. He wondered what they were going to do there if they were stuck there for the rest of their lives. What was the point of it all if they were going to live in little cabins with assigned roommates and do jobs they had no training for? It was like a muggle television show sometimes. Random and non-sensical. What was the purpose of being there? There was one thing that he could do that he did understand. Flying. He didn't know how good the broom he found in the supply room at the pitch was, but it would do. He didn't see anyone else around, so he just mounted his broom and kicked off. He started off slowly, rising into the air, and then he made his way to one end, by the goal hoops. He flew through one, and then turned sharply and through the middle one, then turned again and through the last before he turned again, heading for the far end, picking up speed. He leaned low over the broom handle, moving even more quickly through the air. It felt good, like he could just fly all the way home and no one would stop him. |