Who: Constantine Rivers and Su Li (Open) What: Nothing like flying to clear the mind... Where: The Quidditch Pitch When: Saturday morning, 8.00am Rating: tbd Incomplete || Open
It was a damp morning. It wasn't really raining, but it was most certainly trying. The air was full of a fine mist that left a layer of water over everything it touched. Dew hung heavily on every blade of grass and dripped freely from every tree. By the time he'd walked down to the Quidditch pitch Constantine's clothes were damper than could be considered comfortable.
Still, he didn't care. At least he didn't have any classes, so he could go back and change after he'd been flying. He made his way to the Slytherin locker rooms to grab his broom. It was nothing special, but Tristan had brought it for him, so for Taff it was clearly the best broom money could buy. A Nimbus 2000. Out of date now, but he loved it anyway.
He wandered onto the pitch, expecting it to be empty, considering it was the Hogsmeade weekend. He had every intention of going down there later, but for now, he needed to fly.
His nightmare had scared him, left him on the brink of tears as he wondered if it'd truly been a dream, or if Tristan really had been killed. After calming himself down, Taff had drifted out of bed, unable to sleep anymore, and decided to go down to fly. Flying was freedom. It was something to lose yourself in. It was amazing.
He wandered into the centre of the pitch and, after mounting his broom, kicked off from the dew-soaked grass, taking to the sky like a fish to water. God he'd missed this. Why had he waited?