Forsaken Lullaby

Keavy Peig MacDónaill had arrived at Kings Cross Grand Central Station accompanied by her parents. As usual, she was ahead as excited as she usually was with her long red mahogany colored hair flowing behind her and her pure blue eyes shining with excitement. This was her sixth year for her magical training and yet her parents had decided to send her to Hogwarts instead of continuing her studies in America. From what the young lady had understood it was because both her parents were assigned to the Ministry's post to help the Aurors on some assignment.

She sighed, she never really understood her parents work, but they always seemed to come home unharmed and always happy to see her. So, she didn't mind it too much that they were gone often only because when they did have time it was spent with her. Snapping out of her thoughts she pushed her packed trolley that was quite heavy, as she had a few large trunks filled with things necessary for Hogwarts, while her black cat Askhim gracefully and faithfully followed close behind.

"Ah, here we are, kiddo," Mr. MacDónaill said as they reached the invisible Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

"Father...where is the platform?" Keavy asked with a puzzled expression. Her father laughed as her mother giggled. "See that wall there?" Mr. MacDónaill asked his daughter, pointing at a brick wall. "It looks quite solid, right?" Keavy nodded. "Well, it is quite simple. Some people like to get a running start, but essentially you walk into the wall."

Keavy gave him a timid look of disbelief. "You walk into the wall? It's solid brick, won't you get hurt?" she asked. Her father only smiled broadly and shook his head.

"No. You've got to trust me, lass. You just walk on through. I'll go with you," he offered. Mrs. MacDónaill only smiled as she gently reminded her husband. "My dear, don't forget-. We've got a train to catch." she insisted.

"But mom, must you guys go without at least seeing me board the train?" Keavy pleaded as her mother gave a soft sigh, looking over at her father when the man placed a hand on Keavy's back, gently pushing the girl to him in a tight embrace.

"Your mother is right. I guess its time for you to go. Don't worry Sadhbh, I'll make sure the kids are at least going in the right direction. Then we can catch the train- we have time." Keavy nodded in agreement, giving her mother a final goodbye then turned and ran right through the wall, making Keavy astonished of the place she ran into.

She felt like she was in a different place entirely. "Well Kea, this is Platform 9 3/4!" Mr. MacDónaill said happily to them. "Oh, Father...I'm going to miss you," Keavy said. Her father enveloped her in a tight hug. "You must write us every week and tell us what is happening," he requested, and Keavy nodded her promise. She said her final goodbye to her father until summer, watching as Mr. MacDónaill returned through the wall; through a small space between her father and the wall, she saw her mother's smile and waving.

Sighing, she looked down at Askhim. "Well, it's off to Hogwarts, I suppose," she said softly.

"Mew" Askhim called out rather loudly as Keavy gently picked him up and started to pet him softly loving how his purr usually calmed down her thoughts when it comes to her parents. Sure she loved how cool their jobs were but at the same time it frustrated her to no end.

What she didn't expect was Askhim squirming out of her arms and leaping down, dashing out and towards the large crowd of students making her heart stop in worry. "Askhim! Hey! Get back here... Tá tú diabhal cat dúr!"(you damn stupid cat)

It wasn't long before her legs had started off in a light jog before it went on a full sprint after her older black cat. Trying so desperately to catch up to him before he decides he wanted to hide under some tight warm space. Then she would never coax him out unless she found some of her cat treats in her trunk; so much for a good start of her journey to Hogwarts.

"Hey there, Thistle!" caught his attention, as it should as there weren't any other students named 'Thistle' standing on platform 9 3/4 awaiting the Hogwarts Express.  Thistle's head lifted from the book he was reading, and cerulean blue eyes caught the caller who was passing by, a friendly smile and a nod of his head offered in return.  Now that his head was raised, his attention was captured by other classmates who took the opportunity to greet him.  He held the book closed in his left hand, his pointer finger holding his place, thumb pressed to the cover of the book where a green planet was thumbing its nose and sticking its tongue out at the reader.  "Hey there,"  He called out.  "Have a good summer?"  It was the same as every year, where the kids who hadn't seen each other all summer went racing around to find their best mates with boundless excitement for another year to come.  Thistle was well liked and fit into many different cliques easily, but he had trouble with this platform every year.  His best friend was across the pond and like he did every year, he wondered idly to himself if it had been worth transferring to Hogwarts before his third year.  Sure, Ilvermorny didn't have a 'Care of Magical Creatures' course, but Hogwarts didn't have a Keavy.

He hadn't bothered to cut his multi-hued brown hair, which was now long enough to tie back into a ponytail.  He currently had it in a hastily wound man-bun and the shades of brown, blond, and red, showed quite clearly along the sides of his head and as lights shown through the rough ends of his hair sticking out of that knot.  He wasn't in uniform, planning to dress on the train when they got closer, leaving him standing there looking like some punk No-Maj.  Er ... Muggle, that is.  He wore a quite comfortable looking old concert t-shirt for Led Zepplin that he must have found in a thrift store.  Black jeans with holes in the knees, as well as a few other places, and black engineer boots, with gleaming silver rings on either side of them.  His trolley, which was loaded up with his trunks, book bags, and a messenger bag, had a black knit sweater draped over them, in case he got cold.  No make up, no black on his fingernails, He appeared to be working the 'lazy goth' look.  Along with everything else, there was an old fashioned barrel upended on one side of his trolley, that got a few strange, curious looks, but no questions.

Not until Rowan McDermott, Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, and Seeker, for the last four years, strolled up with her cart and nudged Thistle with a full body check 'Oi, Thistle!" before he'd seen her coming.  She was a pretty girl, taut from tons of exercise, though a full foot taller than Thistle and was looking down at him as she spoke with a huge, self-satisfied grin.  He long brown curls were pulled into a tight, no nonsense ponytail behind her and out of her way.  There was a loud 'Mewl!' of offense from a tiny Kitten he had in the crook of his elbow.  A huge head peeked out from where the ball of fluff had been sleeping unseen.  "Ooooh, sorry there, Kitty,"  Rowan offered, but the cat in question did not appear mollified.  Unwinding, the little kitten body looked ridiculous with it's overly large head, paws, and strangely lion-like tail.  He would be a big fellow.  Hopping off of Thistle's left arm, he curled up on that sweater Thistle wasn't wearing.  "Sorry mate," Rowan piped up, "But back to the important shite, where's your broom?  I need ... I mean, we need you to be ready to go soon.  We're going to be the first match up against Hufflepuff this season."

Thistle watched the cat leave his person to find a new seat and shrugged his shoulders.  He knew what she'd meant.  His broom had been smashed to pieces by some Gryffindor lunkheads in the last game the year prior.  "Funds have been an issue.  I had to pay for more rooms than I intended over the summer break."  He reached out to lift the lid off the pickle barrel, but it was not full of pickles, but parts.  Broom parts to be specific.  "So I'm building a new one.  I have parts of a few old ones in here, and some broken merchandise that was tossed behind Quality Quidditch Supplies.  A little jiggery-pokery and I'll be good for the game."  Rowan eyed him suspiciously, and punctuated her disbelief with, "That's rubbish, mate.  You got too many Newt-level classes and electives to be buggerin' around whittling!"  She didn't seem angry, more incredulous.  "Whatever mate, if'n you can't make it work, I have an old spare you can use."  She shook her head at the barrel and laughed, "I'll see ya on the train, Thist."  And then she wandered off. 

Thistle was resealing his barrel of bones when his ears perked at the commotion coming from the platform entrance.  He moved closer to his cart, hovering over the newly re-sleeping Russian Blue/Kneazle Kitten on his rustic, black sweater, making room.  Braced, he turned his head, those fair blues seeking towards the source of those sounds of running footsteps and shouting voices!

Keavy didn't know rather she wanted to hug her cat to death out of worry for his safety or skin him alive for his disobedience. "Come here Askhim!" She said through her gritted teeth, her feet picking up speed as her body dodged several people and trunks of various students that she didn't know. They continued in this fashion for several more minutes, Keavy coming within a few feet of Askhim and the cat only finding ways to gain more distance between them, until Keavy literally bumped into another person. She had been so focused on the cat that she didn't see that Askhim had jumped into the arms of another person that was in her path. She bounced lightly off of the taller teen, nearly falling flat on her ass but recovering at the last moment by the help of her feet and his other arm that didn't hold her cat. 

She looked up to meet the man's stunning Cerulean Blue eyes. Her breath hitched in recognition, she only knew one boy with that kind of colored eyes like that. Not only that, but the boy didn't even have to say anything before her arms quickly wrapped around his neck as her smile turned from a frown of worry into a gleeful smirk of bliss.

"Buíochas le Dia! Tá tú féin! Tá sé i ndáiríre tú! Cac Naofa! Níor shíl mé go bhfeicfeadh mo mhac mac arís!" (Oh, my God! It's you! It's really you! Holy shit! I never thought I would see my wolf again!)

She eased back as she looked back to Askhim, watching the cat jumping down to Thistle's barrel and sniffing his kitten after sniffing Thistle's face. Making the girl only chuckle lightly, "So that's why you ran off you old fart. You could have at least waited until we were on the train! God, I swear..." She gave her cat a light ruffle on his head, that was before she realized just where she was standing making her quickly move away.

"I'm so sorry," Keavy stuttered out, feeling her face and chest flush a bright red in embarrassment at the situation she had found herself in. "I can explain," She trailed off, realizing that she couldn't, in fact, explain. It had been nearly four years since she had seen him. So for her to just hug him as she had; what if he had a girlfriend? Or he had completely forgotten all about her? God, she feels like a complete moron! Luckily for her, however, Askhim appeared to only make matters more obscene as he patted the kitten's head as if he was both playing and almost petting it. "Askhim seems to know exactly where you were. Leave it to the worlds best hunter to find you eh?"

Thistle had been holding onto his trolley and keeping his kitten from being jostled by the expected stampede, only to have to release it to catch the black cat who'd leapt up into his arms.  He looked down into the older cat's face as he reached up with his paws and sniffed at his face.  "I know you ..." he began, but then he was knocked into by a redhead running down the platform and clinging to him to keep from falling.  He kept his one arm up, supporting the black cat with its white patch on his chest while the other caught around her to catch her from falling back as she bounced off of him.  "Whoa!  I gotcha ..."  He'd pulled her closer and caught that scent.  He'd dreamed about that scent for years.  He was holding her up, like a man from a movie about to sweep a woman off her feet into a deep kiss, or he would have been, were it not for the cat, which thankfully, jumped down onto his pickle barrel.  "Kea..."

He never called her by a short version of her name, but she'd cut him off with a string of Gaelic he didn't understand in the least.  He assumed it was Gaelic, but really, he had no clue.  He felt like he'd been knocked off his feet and had his head dunked in a bucket of water.  This was Keavy, HIS Keavy, well, not his, not like ... they had been so young, back then, but he looked down into this woman's (teen's) blushing face and felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.  Her vibrant red hair, soft pale skin ... "I've miss ..." he began to admit, but she was talking to her cat, Askhim.  He'd caught Thistle's scent or something and come running, which warmed his heart.  He moved to take her into an embrace, he couldn't help himself, he wanted to hug her close and never let go, and if we're being honest, to feel her against him, but then she began her awkward retreat, stepping back from him to apologize and he still hadn't gotten his proverbial feet beneath him.

She was rambling again and he had to smile, recognizing her flustered, nervous rapid speech and random Irish-Speak!  He reached out with his right hand, that little smirk playing on his mouth, as he placed his pointer finger vertically across her soft lips, the tip of the digit resting in the divot beneath her nose.  He was so nervous right now, but she'd openly exploded with nerves, leaving him firm ground to stand and pretend confidence on.  That smirk he was trying to affect couldn't last.  It couldn't.  It broke into a full blown smile as he flew through stages of denial to accept that she was really standing there in front of him!  "What are you doing here?  Tell me everything!"  And then he slowly pulled his hand away, wishing he could be brave enough to run his fingers across her cheek.  "Man, I have missed you so ...." And then, "Wait, Keavy?  Where is your trolley?"  He suddenly asked, just as a whistle sounded.  The train was coming into the station and crowds of kids began to push forward to the line painted along the edge of the platform.

That smile of his always made her smile more, her nerves calming down as the scent of Cinnamon and Spice hit her nose in gentle spurts. Keavy felt his finger on her lips, making her quiet down immediately, although it didn't help her slight giggles that bubbled between her pressed lips and his finger. She took several deep breaths to calm herself down, her hand quickly brushing her side bangs away from her face.

"Missed you more." She teased before the next question made her heart stop as well as what she had wanted to say next before she cursed. "It's back there! Askhim- stay with Thistle, I'll be right back, so save me a spot!"

"You mean this?" A female voice sounded making Keavy turned around to see a woman who was slightly taller than her but still smaller than Thistle. Her short blond hair into a beautiful pixie cut and light Teal Hazel eyes. Her figure wasn't slim but rather a decent average build. Her long shirt that had Hufflepuff colors and faded flare jeans made Keavy almost blink dumbly at her. That was before she noticed that the girl before them had strolled both Keavy's trolly and her own.

"Thank you, I didn't mean to leave it out in the open!" Keavy started as she went over to her own trolly, holding out her hand, "Name's  Keavy Peig MacDónaill, but you can call me Kea if you want. What's your name?"

"Ah, so you're the American transfer. I've heard rumors that we would be getting one. Although, it helps that my Mother no doubt will be working well with your parents. Name's Syvanna Watson. I know Thistle well though, I was just about to see to board with him when I noticed you running off to chase after your cat. So, I took your trolly and followed. But- the train whistled, can we continued this conversation onboard?"

Keavy only smiled and nodded.

---

After Keavy was gawking at the train for about five minutes, and they quickly threw their trunks onto the train's storage holding; Keavy, Thistle, and Syvanna had to quickly search for any good compartment. Any good quiet cabin before the train took part from the station. Finally settling into their cabin and placing their remaining luggage in the overhead compartment, they took their seats. Keavy sitting next to the window and Thistle. Syvanna sitting across from them as the trio started to talk, introduce themselves and laugh over their summer misadventures. Before long the conversation soon turned to just how Keavy and Thistle had not kept contact for so long.

"Wait, so you two knew each other back in the United States?" Syvanna stated in a slight surprise; Keavy however, only smiled and nodded as her cat slept on her lap. She stretched slightly, her own legs feeling the need to move. 

"Yea, we did promise to write. But, we just... Got busy. Both of us did. My parents are the top in their field and I was well, I learned to pretty much be on my own." She muttered softly before shrugged, "It was no big deal, I mean before long I was in the Pukwudgie Quidditch team, the Choir, and working upon my Potions in hopes to get into the Alchemy classes here at Hogwarts when I get there."

Syvanna only gave Thistle and Keavy an eye roll, she should have known better. That the girl that Thistle has always talked about would be the kind that had never even forgotten about him either. His best friend had finally come back into his life and now maybe he will finally get the damn guts to confess that he likes her. At least Syvanna hopes he does.

"Well, you certainly do sound from overseas, your accent just screams 'I'm not from England.' Not one bit." Syvanna pointed out as Keavy gave a mock face of hurt before she straightened her back.

"Well, you can't possibly be talking about me," Keavy spoke with a mock accent that only made Syvanna chuckle lightly. "I'm too innocent."

"Your accent sucks Kea, you sound like an idiot who is infatuated with British culture," Syvanna stated, "I'm just saying. I mean you are just as bad as Thistle was when he first came here."

Thistle wanted to hug her again, but it would have to wait, the moment was gone as he'd realized she was a trolley short of boarding.  Luckily, Syvanna arrived with said cart.  As far as saviors went, they could have done worse.  He was fond enough of Syvanna, as friends go.  "Hey Chicachi!" (Pronounced Chica-Chi)  He called out as she brought the cart over, loaded with Keavy's things.  "Thanks for the assist, mate."  He would have introduced them then, but Keavy stepped up and moved forward on her own, much to his surprise.  Where was that shy girl who used to be so quiet and nervous in public?  He couldn't help but smile brightly as she announced herself with her full name, middle included, and he chuckled softly.  Some zebras can change their stripes, it seems.

He let them get acquainted for the moment, but Syvanna reminded them of the boarding.  Always the responsible one.  "Head towards the middle.  There are always empty cars there.  They all tend to flock the front and back of the train for some reason."  He offered as he moved to get his own gear.  Leave it to Thistle to know how to keep as low key as possible.  Why rush when you knew where to go?  Askhim was poking at Bones still, so he left the two sharing his sweater for the walk over to the train.  They would be going to the same places anyway.  Storing the trunks was easy enough, and most of his other things.  After handing Askhim over to Keavy, by the time they boarded the train, he had only his messenger bag, a backpack, and his snoozing Kitten.

Just before finding a good cart, they turned to a "Hey, Downey!" coming from further towards the back.  "No replacement broom yet, huh?  What am I gonna break when we meet up in the next match?"  It was a larger boy, ginger hair was close cropped to his head and looked like it would be curly as sin if he let it grow out.  His face showed the evidence that he was slightly overweight, pasty pale flesh covered in freckles, but his body looked more muscle than anything.  He cut an imposing figure, even if he wasn't backed by what looked like half of Gryffindor.

Thistle had turned more towards him, his face darkening as that bright smile Keavy loved so much turned darker, the smirk looking dangerous.  He had gotten this way at Ilvermorny when he'd come across some kids picking on Keavy.  It hadn't been pleasant for any of them.  "Wind, Toad.  If I had to bet on it, I'd choose wind."  His hand had lowered to the side of his black jean-clad leg, hidden from view by his satchel, but the girls could see it clearly.  His fingers touched mid-thigh and a pocket that hadn't existed was suddenly there, his wand at the ready.  It wouldn't be needed though.

They didn't get the joke, and looked at him, and each other with confused glances, "Well ... That's rubbish, that is.  That doesn't even make sense, Downer.  Break wind?" Ginger was going to say something else, but his friends pulled him into an empty car they'd found.  The fact that Thistle had snorted into childish laughter didn't stop them from cutting off the chance for a confrontation.  There was still two whole school years left for fighting.

"That was Thad Hobday."  He explained to Keavy as they closed the door to the compartment.  He placed his Kitten down on the seat, along with his bag and messenger bag.  "Gryffindor knucklehead and a right Chav if you ask me.  Broke my broom in the last few minutes of the last game we played last year."  He paused, sitting beside Keavy, "Broke may be an understatement, he splintered the entire thing, destroyed it."  He shrugged his shoulder, not seeming to be bothered by it.  Syvanna, of course, had to go into the whole story, how Thistle had fallen from his post in front of the triple rings, but he'd been checked off his broom entirely.  It wasn't just Thad, who was a Chaser, but both Beaters as well, between the three of them, bits of broom showered down on the Ravenclaw goal side, and on Thistle's unconscious form.  It was an effective use of wands, one hell of a spectacle, and in the end, it also cost Gryffindor both the match and the house cup.  Everyone thought 'Thist,' as Syvanna called him, was dead, and yet Thist always tells it like it's just a broken old Nimbus.

It was much more interesting than Thistle's recounting of his wasted summer.  He moved around constantly, as if he were running from something.  He'd sleep a few days at different homes, spent a lot of time renting rooms, skulking around Diagon Alley.  Taught himself a lot, sure, he was always reading and fiddling with things, trying to find out the innate ways they worked.  Mentioned a new theory that Music could affect magic and that he had packed some Vinyl he'd gotten in a hopes to test it.  He'd need to find a working Victrola of course.  And there was the matter of a replacement broom, which he'd not purchased as most of his gold he'd put aside for the summer had ended up going to rent when he couldn't find enough places to crash.  "I'm not broke, or even poor.  Mom left me an account I never knew about, but I don't know how long it'll last, so I'm being careful."

"And Squeaker died, my Rat, early in the summer, which was hard.  I wasn't sure I was going to replace her, but when I saw Bones here," the kitten was sleeping on his lap and, sitting so close to Keavy, petting Bones was the only thing keeping him from trying to touch her hand with his pinky or something.  It was silly, but he felt lightheaded in a way he never expected, or experienced before.  "Well, I just melted.  If he'd been a girl, I'd have named him Keavy, which would have been awkward, now that you're here."  He said with a wide grin.  "And I couldn't be happier, by the way.  I ... I've tried to write.  So many times.  Most of the letters don't get finished, or got tossed in the fire."  He shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing ever seemed good enough to say."  He said, awkwardly walking through that last sentence, not sure if it even made sense.  "I AM sorry we lost touch, Keavy."  He nodded his head towards Syvanna, "Yeah, we did, Chicachi.  Keavy is the girl I told you about, from Ilvermorny."

He laughed along with the accent comments, "Only when she's speaking Ye Olde Worlde Englishe."  He said each word to enunciate the unneeded 'e' at the end.  "Ask her to speak Ireland-talk and there's no accent to be found."  At his own mockery, he faked an affronted look, but laughed after, "That's rubbish, Chicachi.  It's not our fault ya'll sound like you've been dropped on your heads too many times."

Keavy only shook her head in small dismay when she learned about Squeaker. "Oh god... I'm gonna miss Squeaker. Was such a good Rat, and soo cute!"  She then looked down at the kitten seeing the tiny thing between them as she gave a giant smile. She couldn't help it, she loves animals- especially when things were small and still in their early stages of life. When Thistle had told her of the name she could only gasp loudly making her squeal in delight as she petted Bones gently.

"Ooh, you are so cute! And you're just like my favorite McCoy! Yes, you are! Yes, you are!"

Too bad her joy was soon turned to a slight frown when Thistle told her the reference wasn't from Star Track but in fact from Sleepy Hollow. Making her bite her lower lip as she gave him a shy smile.

"I-I knew that. Well, either way, Bones is still cute, plus it will help Askhim stay young. God knows this old fart is finally starting to act like an old grump at times."

When Thistle started to apologize about his distance she only shook her head, "Hey, it takes two to tango bud. Plus we were so busy I couldn't expect you to write to me every single day. I mean when I heard your dad said Military school I sort of... Got pissed. Well, more hurt really." Shaking her head she looked over at Syvanna as the subject changed to her accents making them all laugh allowing her to feel better than what she had before.

But one thing lingered in her mind. Thad. Keavy didn't know rather she had the patience to deal with the boy's ignorance on his bullying. And the story that Syvanna and Thistle told her, she felt frightened and angered at Thad's actions. Thinking back she had noticed that Thistle was already by her side, helping her by blocking 's Thad's path to her. Wand or no wand, Keavy can easily take him out no problem and judge by the fair skin he seems the type that had that silver spoon in his mouth all his life. The only thing that she would have to worry about was his build. The kid seemed almost like round pig- no, more of a hog with a steroid problem. All the more satisfying when she knocks him down a peg or two. Just as she was about to fist her hands, her thoughts going to a thousand ways in which she could plummet Thistle's bully Syvanna's voice chimed, almost angelic that made Keavy stop in her tracks.

"Well, I think you're going to love Hogwarts." Syvanna giggled, "After the train, we have to get to the Castle by the carriages so we're pretty much halfway there Keavy. Now, I think it's best if we get you suited up in your robes. There's a set of bathrooms for us ladies that we can use."

When Syvanna suggested about sharing a coach together Keavy only nodded in agreement, most of the other kids she noticed was nice but she didn't really feel like sticking around to talk to them past a greeting. So, once they changed robes, Syvanna's in Hufflepuff's and Thistle in Ravenclaw's they soon found themselves at the Hogsmeade Station.

"Sounds like an awesome plan! Thistle lead the way!" She quickly twirled her best friend forward and gently pushed him onward towards the carriages. Wanting to enjoy the company of someone new and her best friend without having people overhear them. As Thistle led them on, Keavy kept to his side looking back behind her, checking to make sure that no one would follow them. More specifically, Thad. The ginger head gave her rather cold vibes. Almost as if he was hunting Thistle down just to finish whatever was started between them.

As they finally made it to one of the carriages,  she only noticed, well,  just the carriages! Her blue eyes blinked as her head looked around the sides of the carriages before looking back at her two friends. "Um, what's exactly driving this thing?"

Syvanna smiled as she thumbed at the sunset air, "Thestrals can't be seen unless you've seen death. They're actually very gentle creatures but their appearance is haunting to look at."

"You can see them? I'm so sorry..." Keavy stated in a soft tone as they got on the top of the carriages, enjoying the cool air. Syvanna waved her hand. "It's not your fault- It was my Uncle who fell off our roof due to a heart attack. No one saw it coming really. That was over a decade ago."

Keavy nodded as she squirmed in her seat, changing into a different subject. "So, what's it like living under the Queen's Rule? Sure she's half Magic half Muggle-born but I find her rather a very interesting character of sorts. Oh! And what was it like before you guys had your Hogwarts letter? Did you guys go to a muggle school beforehand?" Keavy didn't mean to be so straightforward but the girl was very curious of the people in this foreign land. "This land," She started as she made a gesture towards the castle, "Is just so different than Minnesota, it's almost magical in its own right yet- so parallel to the beautiful waters and lands of Minnesota. Not to mention Ilvermorny. Right Thistle?"

She stopped herself before clearing her throat, "Sorry, Minnesota is where my home state is just below Canada."

Syvanna nodded with an 'Ahh' sound, now understanding what Keavy was saying, "So then is that where Thistle is from too? This Minniesoda?"

Keavy laughed as she shook her head, "Minnesota, and no- he was actually from New York state. I think... North Tarrytown? But it's actually been changed to Sleepy Hollow for tourists reasons. It's weird I know but we Murican's love our tourism!" She stated with an exaggerated face making Syvanna giggle. Keavy gave Thistle a soft shoulder bump as she looked up to see the giant old castle, it's light softening the castle in almost a dreamlike glow that made her feel excited. What sort of school was Hogwarts going to be for her? Keavy can only hope that it would be filled with memories, good memories. She looked back at Thistle and Syvanna and grinned brightly, feeling her heart pound as her excitement grew.

"I think a certain girl is getting excited." Syvanna teased as Keavy looked back at the Castle. If only they both knew...

---

The Great Hall was filled with children talking. Keavy standing among them as she sighed in slight embarrassment, she didn't like having to stand in line with them but she knew that wearing the normal school crest was standard unless you were sorted first. The four house tables were not yet covered with the Welcoming Feast, which she was told was normal until all the students were sorted into their houses first. The doors opened and in came Professor McGonagall, followed cautiously by a group of eleven- and two twelve-year-olds and finally Keavy. The other students looked excited to see just where the young kids would go to which house but when they saw Keavy- looks of confusion followed by snickers had made Keavy keep her eyes cast down. Professor McGonagall then went ahead of the students, fetching the tattered hat and old stool before coming back to the middle of the front of the house tables.

"All right students we have as you may notice, a transfer student. So, to get her properly sorted I shall call her up first. Come up Keavy Peig MacDónaill!" The elder woman's voice rang out making Keavy hurry up, her eyes blinking in confusion, she was told by Thistle that they did their sorting differently. And she didn't think their hat was that worn and tattered. Much less... Did they even wash this thing!? Still, she sat down quietly looking up at the elder witch all the while the woman smiled down at her.

"Now dear, it's not going to swallow you whole, it's just a hat."

"I'm not scared of a dumb hat. Just nervous." Keavy stated quietly as the Hat suddenly boomed his voice.

"AH! We have ourselves a very interesting and talented Witch! But... Not from Hogwarts? Hmm, where to place you... You're brave, I see that, and Ambitious. But... Overall, I shall place you in HUFFLEPUFF!" 

Thistle chuckled as Keavy burst out into Trekky excitement, but he placed his hand upon her forearm, digit tips lightly grazing the skin as he corrected her gently.  "No, no.  Not Star Trek." His smile was restrained, not laughing at her, but having known what she would assume ahead of time.  Drawing his hand away was difficult.  "From Sleepy Hollow.  His name is Mr. Abraham Van Brunt, after the unrequited hero of the story.  They called him Brom Bones, so I just shorten it to Bones."  As talk turned towards his father, the laughter fades as his face darkened.  In truth, his father had never forgotten his mother, after he began his new family.  He loved Thistle, just as much as he always had, but he'd promised Siobhan he'd move on with his No-Maj life and that required keeping Thistle's secret.  His mistake, was in not explaining it to Thistle, who thought his father hated him.  Thistle explained that he wasn't going back, not ever.  Even if he ends up living on the streets every summer.

Thistle wasn't as worried about Thad.  His almost death had been an accidental side effect, that had been assured to him by McGonagall.  If it had been a purposeful attempt on his life, there would have been sterner consequences than a lost match and a lost house cup.  He seemed relaxed and calm, when he watched them chatter away, a soft smile on his face like he knew some secret the rest of the world didn't know.  As they left to change, he changed right in the booth.  A minor spell, flick and swish, and the windows were now one way mirrors so no one could see inside.  By the time they returned, he was wearing his robes along with the colors of his house and the House Ravenclaw bird emblem. He greeted them warmly, each time his eyes fell upon Keavy, he felt like he was dreaming.  "I still can't believe you're here.  It's my favorite surprise I've ever received."

Departing the train was a process, but Thistle didn't seem to mind the wait and unlike most, wasn't in any particular hurry and whiled the time away speaking to her of the four houses.  "I'm so excited to find out which house you'll end up with.  Hopefully you're with Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff."  He said with a grin, though of course, he would prefer her in his own house.  He seemed to know everyone, or rather, everyone seemed to know him and greeted him familiarly, though he may not have even known their names.  "Celebrity through Tragedy." he explained.  Quidditch players were often popular already, as there was only so many places on a team.  "Everyone knows of me, and it looks like even the first years have heard."  He greeted them all friendly enough, though it was the invisible Thestrals that he seemed most happy to visit with, and he moved closer to them, his kitten perched upon his shoulder.

"I don't find them so terrifying to look at, though I wouldn't wish to meet an angry one."  He reached out with one hand, then both, stroking the creatures few of the students could see.  As she seemed so excited, and distraught for Chicachi, he distracted her by explaining to Keavy where he was petting them.  There was no need for her to ask, or offer sympathies, as she'd long known he'd been with his mother when she passed away.  Soon enough, they were inside the carriages and Keavy was rambling in excitement.  Most of the questions were directly for Syvanna, but as they spoke of his hometown, he seemed surprised.  "Haha, I thought I'd mentioned North Tarrytown.  It's been Sleepy Hollow since before I was born, I think.  I just don't use it because no one believes me if I say I'm from Sleepy Hollow."

They stayed together as long as they could, moving among the crowd as a group of three, until eventually, "I need to go to my house tables, so does Chicachi, but we'll be watching with fingers crossed."  He pointed out where she would need to wait, to be sorted, and advised, "Professor McGonagall can seem quite stern and rigid, a regular stickler, but she really is a big sweetheart.  Don't think she approves of what's happened with Gryffindor since she became Headmistress and left the house, but who can say, really."  As they parted, and how he wished they didn't have to, he noticed McGonagall's eyes had found them and he couldn't help but wonder, based on her blank face, why he thought he was sure she had somehow heard him, or knew what he said.

He cheered for Keavy when the hat called out, "Hufflepuff," though there was a part of him that was disappointed, he knew her too well to think she'd have ended up in his own house.  Or, at least he used to.  He had known her better than she had known herself, way back when, and so when the hat had mumbled about courage and cunning, he had not been surprised.  Gryffindor or Slytherin would have been lucky to have her, but at heart, she was better suited for Hufflepuff.  He wondered idly if the hat ever did make mistakes with who it put where.  He watched as Syvanna rose up, knees on the bench, waving with both hands to draw Keavy towards the open space beside her, and smiled.  She couldn't have asked for a better guide anymore than Thistle could have suggested one.

The first years began to be sorted, always somehow, at least somewhat, even distrubuted among the houses.  That was another odd thing, and he believed there must have been a reason for it, that there was never a majority of the kids going to any one house rather than another.  What ensured such diversity, or was it that they all could go into any house, but the hat made judgments based on other, more practical, factors?  He would like a chance to speak with it again, one day, and perhaps, he could find out.  He said as much to Rowan and the slightly chubby Clive Gaiman, both of whom were bookending him on the bench.  Clive had been digging out three boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and three Chocolate Frogs, passing them to Thistle.  Rowan laughed and shook her head, but Clive seemed to consider it a moment before shaking his mop of oily black locks and replying, "I think you're right, that we are all made up of all the traits.  Take us, for example, I could have easily ended up in Slytherin, Rowan in Gryffindor, but there are dominant traits that stick out.  Thanks again, for the help.  I'm sorry I couldn't get these to you before last year ended."

"No worries, mate."  Thistle replied cordially, stashing the candy in his messenger bag.  Clive was still nodding his head, the look in his grey eyes, behind those thick, square lenses. showed he was still considering what he'd said, even after having stated it, but the ceremony was finished and the feast was about to begin.  Thistle's cerulean blues found Keavy and Chicachi laughing at something, and he smiled, idly petting the sleeping kitten in his lap.  This was going to be a great year.

Keavy quickly dashed over to where Syvanna waited for her with open arms, like a beacon that leads the ship out on the sea. Except the sea was more of an organized horde of students. Still, she was able to get to Syvanna easily and hug her tightly all the same. Secretly she was wanting to be in Ravenclaw but, it would be impossible for her to get into a house that required her to be as smart as Thistle. Even when the two were children she couldn't even compare herself to the boy.

Her eyes caught Thistle's, giving him a small sad pout as she raised her shoulders in apology. Although, she probably knew she would be in a different house anyhow since she was in a different house back at their old school. Perhaps the old torn hat knew that and had taken it into account? Perhaps a question for a later discussion.

She looked over at the Headmistress, listening to her as the elder spoken to them of the usual rules- or she figured it was the usual rules. That was until she heard about the Forbidden Forest; ears and eyes perked up as she looked over to Syvanna. "Ooh, sounds exciting."

"You're an idiot. There's a reason why it's called Forbidden, she just said there are things that can and will kill you. You did hear that right?" Syvanna laughed, making Keavy giggle as well.

It was soon time for the Great Feast making the food appear before them as she sighed in content, "God, finally- I'm hungrier than a wolf." Reaching over for some Pumpkin Bread and butter she began her meal.

Thistle couldn't hear what the two girls were saying to each other, but he'd been watching Keavy closely enough to notice her excitement at the idea of students not being permitted in the Forbidden Forest.  He groaned inwardly, expecting to have to drag her out of there one day, kicking and screaming, but he kept his composure until Rowan elbowed him in the gut. 

"Quit staring, creeper."  She hissed at him, trying to be funny, but if she was going for a whisper, she failed.  At least the small group surrounding them had heard and were alternately giggling through guffawing, depending on the student.  "She's still going to be here tomorrow, and the day after."  In his head, Thistle laughed.  He heard Kevin Bacon from Stir of Echoes saying, "And the day after, and the day after, and the day after!" repeatedly, but he kept the joke to himself as neither Rowan nor Clive would understand.  Not many movie watchers in the Magical World of Hogwarts.  "Seriously, you're going to scare away the new girl."

He shook his head, "It's not like that, Rowan.  She was my best friend in Ilvermorny."  He offered a shrug of his shoulders.  It had been a long time ago, but the first two years of school together, they'd really teamed up and built a bond.  The food had begun appearing and Thistle was already helping himself to pumpkin juice.

"Oooooooh!  She's the Keavy you used to go on about?"  She rolled her eyes, but laughed, "I should have guessed.  Ok, Romeo.  That's sort of sweet.  Your Juliet probably adores the attention."

"-!"  He choked, coughing pumpkin juice!  It didn't come out of his nose, but then, he still had his goblet up covering his face so who knew how much he backwashed.  "Jesus Row.  You know they both kill themselves at the end."

She shrugged her shoulders, breaking off a turkey leg before one of the savages around them got to it first,  "Did they?  I flunked out of Muggle Studies.  Totally Trolled it on my O.W.L.s."

The conversation died as they all began to dig into the lavish spread provided by the magical house elves in the kitchens below.

Keavy listened to some of her now fellow Hufflepuffs, learning about the several new teachers that she is going to be learning from. Her bread finished she finally decided to get herself a plate full of Ham, Mash Potatoes, and some Corn before sitting herself down.

"So where do we get our schedules?" She asked Syvanna before taking a fork full of ham and eating, enjoying the glaze flavor in her mouth.

"Hmm? Oh! Those are going to be on your bed when you get up there, did you take any electives and such? Otherwise, you are going to have a shit ton of free time. That's going to be taken up by the piles of homework that is given to us by the overlords that are our Professors." Keavy only rolled her eyes as she nodded, it did make sense, but partly she hoped she did have classes with Thistle.

"And yes, we have classes with Ravenclaw so stop your worrying."

Keavy quickly turned her neck, almost too quickly to the point that a sharp pain stabbed her nape as she winced, but ignored it. "I wasn't worried. I wasn't even thinking about that."

"Yea, uh huh. And I'm the fucking Queen of England." Syvanna mocked as Keavy gasped in awe.

"Your Majesty! I didn't know! Your royal Highn-ass!" Keavy mocked back making Syvanna take her clean butterknife and knighted Keavy, "I shall knight thee as Sir NoShitSherlock."

"I'm so honored." Keavy laughed making the students laugh with them before one younger Hufflepuff had to pipe in with a question as to who exactly Sherlock was. Thus, making Keavy break into her nerd knowledge.

Thistle pushed his plate away, stuffed to the proverbial gills.  "Oh gods, it gets better every year.  I don't think I can eat anymore."  He leaned back on his bench, lifting his goblet of pumpkin juice because there was always room for drinks.  "I'm going to have to start working on my broom when we get up to the tower.  What do you think the odds are of keeping people from fucking with it?"  He asked honestly, glancing back and forth between Rowan and Clive.  It was William Boggles, on the other side of the table, that answered him though, a mouth full of turkey and mash potatoes threatening to unload with his words.

"Wut?"  He managed to swallow before continuing, thankfully, "Roit, mate, last t'ing 'ats gunna 'appen is some'un fuckin' wit' yer shite.  Grey Lady'll 'ave their 'eads, she will.  Mark mah words.  'Ey all know she sweet on you, ain't gunna keep'a secret, she ain't."  He was huge, almost as big as Thad was, but with darker, olive tones and black hair cut to be parted, but usually beneath a cap of some sort.  He was one of their Beaters.

Clive boggled at Boggles, "Christ Billy," he swore, leaning over the table, "How in the hell did you get picked to be in Ravenclaw?"  It wasn't a common question to be asked, in fact, could often be considered quite insulting, like being told you didn't belong.  Billy Boggles, however, didn't care.  Before he could reply, Rowan chimed in.

"What?  Fuck Clive, I never took you for a self hating Nerd.  Judgemental much?  I'm only still in Transfigurations cause of Billy helping me through it, ain't that right Boggleboo."  She beamed a smile at Billy that was both charming and sarcastic.  "And the Grey Lady isn't sweet on him, they're just friends.  You think everyone who smiles at you in Diagon Alley is looking to get in your pants instead of just your wallet, mate."

"It be mah In-duh-vid-gi-ality, Cliver."  Billy made a scrunchy face, "An don' be callin' me that shite, Row-Row, Gun git the first years doin' it."

Thistle considered their words, it was true, the Grey Lady and him had been friends since year one, well ... three.  She was curious about the American, and he was always off by himself in the beginning.  He found a secret room in the tower, just a small little forgotten place, but it had a window ... And they would chat about all sorts of things.  After the accident, she wouldn't leave his bedside until he woke again, only then returning to wandering with other ghosts and joining in at meals.

Well, speak of the devils.  It was like talking about them had summoned them to the Feast as all the ghosts began to wander in through the walls and halls.  They had missed the sorting ceremony. 

Keavy had just finished her dinner and sipped on her milk and pumpkin juice before she spotted a ghost, a fair pearly-white and slightly transparent, like all other ghosts that floated through the walls into the Great Hall. This particular ghost, however, had short brown hair, which he wore with a small tonsure. Why if she could describe the ghost in any form she would have to say a happy fat little monk. He was dressed in a habit held by a rope belt."

"Hello! Hello! Welcome to Hogwarts! I see some new faces! I'm Fat Friar!" He stated happily holding his tankard "And what's this? I've never seen you among the sixth year students!" The merry ghost floated over to Keavy as her cheeks flushed before she looked down.

"Um. Y-yea. I am. If you don't mind me asking. Mr. Friar-"

"Ho ho! you don't have to be formal, I'm the house's ghost! Why I hadn't been called a Mr. In white a few centuries." He laughed as Syvanna  gave Keavy a soft giggle, "Yea Kea, you see this school has a House Ghost."

Keavy only blinked in astonished awe, "House Ghost? Seriously? That's actually really cool. But also at the same time, I feel a bit hesitant in not feeling bad about them. I mean why do they choose to stay here?" She looked over at Fat Friar as the man only smiled.

"Why, because I too was a Hufflepuff when I was a student as yourself, and when I became a ghost I came to the founders and asked to allow me to roam my old home."

Keavy looked at Syvanna as the girl smiled and nodded, "Plus he helps lead the first years to the Common Rooms. But for us, we can go at any time now. Besides, you need to get yourself settled in and I gotta check your schedule to see if we get the same classes. Which I'm pretty sure we do but... You know. Now, wave at your creeper there."

Keavy blinked as she looked over at Thistle making her giggle, "Shut up, he's not a creeper, God Syvanna." She held out her arm and waved broadly then bouncing a bit before using both arms as Syvanna yanked her hood and dragged her away. "Ok ok, that's enough you dork. I can see why you two were good besties. You're both immature children."

Keavy only giggled before she turned around and dashed after Syvanna. "So where is this... Common Room?"

"Heh, Just follow me Kea, and keep your voice down."

The entrance to the common room as Keavy learned was located in a nook on the right-hand side of the kitchen corridor, concealed behind a stack of barrels. But what really intrigued her, was how in order to reveal the entrance, no password is required. Instead, one must tap the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff', which will make the lid swing open, exposing a passageway that will lead to the basement.

"So... What if someone does it wrong?" Keavy asked as she looked around the place that was her new home. Syvanna snickered as she shrugged, "Simple, the intruder will be doused in vinegar and barred access."

"... Badass."

Almost the polar opposite to the Fat Friar, a rather-tall female drifted along in the wake of the other ghosts.  Her long, brown tresses were pulled back from around her face to fall down her back.  Unlike most of the specters, her features appeared as one remorseful, in penance, and perhaps even in pain.  Sadness personified, as she floated along the Ravenclaw tables, though soft smiles were tossed at any of the first years who gasped in recognition, breathing the words 'It's The Grey Lady!'  Elegance, she was, in ancient gown of grey.  Most of Hogwarts believed her entirely mute, but Ravenclaw knew the truth.  She was simply, particular, shy, and would not normally be seen speaking.  Of the ghosts, even the headless, and nearly-headless, she was the one who could most truly be considered, 'Haunting.'

Thistle was smiling at Keavy, returning her wave, when The Grey Lady spotted him and altered her course to approach him from behind.  He couldn't see her coming, those ethereal arms lifted up, graceful hands reaching out for him, as though to strangle him from behind.  She followed his gaze, her eyes lifting to spot Keavy as she was leaving, and her lips began to curl in a dangerous-looking smile as she grew closer to the man Keavy had hoped to find in Hogwarts.  At the last moment, the ghosts hands shifted position, falling to somewhat rest upon Thistles' shoulders.  Somewhat, as they seemed to drift in and out of him, as she attempted to pose as though she were leaning upon him, and in fact, leaned over him to speak softly to him, keeping her mouth hidden by the angle of her face, so the other tables wouldn't witness what was obviously speaking.

"She truly is quite attractive Thistle.  Is she the Keavy you have spoken of with me, or are you simply trying to make me jealous?"  There was the smallest of smiles upon her face, hinting at her teasing.  More importantly, however, she asked the real question before he could answer the playful one.  "Is she kind?"  Because in truth, that was what concerned her, more than beauty.

Of course Billy had to speak up, hissing at the first years beside him, as if this lent him some credence.  "See?  Wut'id I tell y-!"  A small, round roll bounced off the center of his face, and he shut up right quick as the Grey Lady and Rowan exchanged bright smiles.

Thistle's eyes had torn from Keavy's departure to turn his head and look upwards, "You know I wouldn't do that on purpose, My Lady.  But is it working?"  He grinned at the returned comment.  "And yes, she is, and she is.  Very.  Excitable, and hyper, but sweet and kind."

The Grey Lady grinned, and it was slightly disturbing as she so rarely did look mischievous.  "She better be."  Was all that was spoken, and then she drifted away to lead the first years to the tower.  Older students, other than the Quidditch team, received smiles and greetings from her as well, Thistle is just the only one she stopped to speak with directly.

Rowan, who had shared that warm smile, said, "Awwww, you have a guardian angel."  She was grabbing another roll and standing up from the bench as Thistle did the same, taking one more bite of ham and then rising, leaving the table with a pair of oranges that disappeared into a deep pocket of his robes, along with a certain kitten who hadn't woken yet.

Billy just snorted and threw that biscuit back at Rowan's face, "Angel me arse!  I love 'at Grey Lady much'as any Clawer, but she's bein' extra creepy."

***********************************************************************************

"Duality of all things?"  Rowan was asking as they settled down in the common room.  Each had stashed their trunks and grabbed their schedules.

"Yar mate," Billy replied, sprawling on the floor, "Gotta go easy on 'ese new Clawers.  Riddles'll get tricksier, al'ays do."

"I wasn't saying it was easy, I was saying I thought the answer was "Facets."  Rowan seemed frustrated she'd gotten the password wrong, or missed the chance to try her answer.

Thistle was slouching in a loveseat, one leg thrown over an arm, his pickle barrel open before him.  He wasn't building his broom though.  He was looking over his schedule.  He shared a lot of NEWT level classes with Hufflepuff this year, Gryffindor and Slytherin must have been sharing more of the ones he wasn't taking.  He should have asked Keavy what classes she picked, but then, they'd find out soon enough.  He was hopeful though, and really glad now that he'd agreed to take NEWT level Potions on when the Grey Lady talked him out of skipping on it.  That was one class he was now sure they had together.

Most of these names he knew, though his Runes teacher was new, as was this Lupin fellow.  "Hey ... You think this is Teddy?  Seems sort of young for a teacher, doesn't he?"

Rowan, who was laying on a sofa like she owned it, and held her broom up while polishing the handle, "Yeah, it's him.  He blew away his Defense Against the Dark Arts tests. Not just did well, he didn't miss a one."  Billy made a suggestive comment about her hand motions on the broomstick, and she quickly swung it around to knock him in the head with it.

"And who do you think this Potter fellow is from the Ministry?"  Thistle asked, as silence fell over the entire common room.  "What?"

"Jesus, Dunwich."  Rowan swore and swung her legs down as she sat upright, the broom she was cleaning was now across her lap.  "Sometimes I forget you're American.  It's gotta be HIM.  Harry Potter?  He's the reason Teddy did so well on his Defense Against the Dark Arts exams.  You've heard of him, right?  'The Boy who Lived?"

Thistle was nodding his head with understanding.  Of course he knew the stories.  None of them had been born yet, but it had happened just less than twenty years ago.  In fact ... this was the 20th anniversary of that fateful school year.  He didn't say anything though, as Clive, who flopped down to sit beside Rowan, got clever.

"Boy who Lived?  Big deal.  We got one of those, ain't that right, Thist?"  And his laughter was drowned out by the massive sofa cushion Thistle flung in Clive's direction.

  Keavy looked around the actual basement, finding the common room itself round, earthy, low-ceilinged. Yet, she found it to be very welcoming, warm, and sunny despite it being close to dark by now. There are lots of yellow hangings, burnished copper, and overstuffed sofas and armchairs upholstered in yellow and black, and circular windows that provide a vista of rippling grass and dandelions.

'So this is why father really enjoyed his time studying here, the atmosphere is just so calming.'

Looking over to her left and up she also spotted a large, honey coloured, wooden mantelpiece with carvings of badgers on it. Which, underneath was the portrait of the house's founder, Helga Hufflepuff. Or would be if she actually stayed, instead the portrait was blank making Keavy guess that the woman was off somewhere else for the time being. "So where are we staying for the rest of our days?"

"Oh, we sleep on the floor as we ponder the existence of our pathetic being."  Syvanna witted back making Keavy pout in despair.

"Well, that just made me wish I was in Ravenclaw."

"Heh, I'm sure you would just love that. Na, it's down over here." Syvanna waved her over as Keavy followed closely behind to where she could only describe as a circular door. "A cellar? I feel like we're a bunch of Hobbits." Keavy pointed out as Syvanna snickered. She opened the cellar door before holding up her wand as she explained to Keavy,  "Now, these underground tunnels are leading off from the common room. But each set is for the girls' dormitory, the other to the boys'."

Keavy followed behind closely before she came to the end of the tunnel, guessing the further back the larger the rooms where. Entering the room she looked around and saw four-poster beds, each covered in patchwork quilts. Illuminated by warm copper lamps, and copper bed warmers hang on the wall, their trunks at the end of each bed.

"Wow, this is awesome and spacious," Keavy stated as Syvanna smirked.

"Now, let's get you more settled and look at that schedule of yours."

-Next Morning-
After their breakfast Syvanna, and Keavy decided to walk over to the Ravenclaw table, mostly for Keavy to look at Thistle's schedule to see which classes aligned with his. "We nearly got the same classes together! Except I decided to stay in Choir, although you guys call it Frog Choir, oh and I took up Alchemy. But... Ancient Runes and Goul Studies? Really Thistle? Of course, you would pick those classes I'd fall asleep in those!"

Keavy poked Thistle on his ribs, sitting next to him as she giggled. "But I'm glad you didn't give up on Potions. I can still help you with it, but I think I'm going to need help with- you know... C-H-A-R-M-S."

"The Ravenclaw common room is one of the airiest rooms at Hogwarts. It is a wide, circular room with arched windows hung with blue and bronze silks and a midnight blue carpet covered in stars, which is reflected onto the domed ceiling. During the day, Ravenclaw students have an excellent view of the school grounds, including the lake, Forbidden Forest, Quidditch pitch, Herbology gardens and the surrounding mountains."

"The room is furnished with tables, chairs, and bookcases; and by the door leading up to the dormitories stands a tall statue of Rowena Ravenclaw made of white marble. According to Prefect Robert Hilliard, the sound of wind whistling around the windows of the tower is relaxing while going to sleep." - WikiLink (http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Ravenclaw_Tower)

"So the prefects went with Blue and Bronze with the Eagle this year, huh?"  Rowan commented as she looked around the common room, idling away the time.  She was watching Thistle as he sorted through broom parts, a toolbox open on the floor beside the love seat he was sprawled in.

"Yeah, I liked the silver."  Thistle replied, having jigsawed three or four different broom handles, he was trying to fit the pieces together with a weave of three different charms.  The Protean Charm linked the pieces together, the common purpose being 'Thistle's new broom.'  A Permanent Sticking Charm was used to keep those linked pieces together and a Mending Charm was sealing away the lines and merging the wood as if the pieces had originally been part of the same tree branch.  "And I preferred the Raven as well, but I suppose, traditionally, it's correct." 

He was chewing on a jelly bean as he worked.  Luckily it had been root beer.  The brown ones made him leary.  So did the green ones, come to think of it.  The brown AND green ones he almost never risked, but he was pretty sure he knew the shades well enough by this point for educated guesses.  He flipped the main branch around, turned it upside down, and then secured the final piece.  It was turning out to be a sharp looking broom, streamlined, but with fancy, jagged angles that gave it a wild personality.

"I can't believe you're making this work."  Rowan admitted as she watched him, sitting with her legs spread, elbows on her knees, head cocked to the side.  Clive and Billy nodded in agreement.  They were all sitting around in their pajamas, having gone to bed and then grown curious about Thistle's tinkering.  "It shouldn't even be possible to mend pieces that didn't break off the same whole.  That's not what the Protean Charm is for."

"It's an interesting weave,"  Remarked Tamlin FitzLachlan, a well put together 7th year, (Often considered the most charmingly handsome, and simultaneously, the most oblivious male in all of Ravenclaw) and another of the Quidditch Chasers.  He was firmly built and would have made a pretty female as well.
"He's sort of confusing the wood, and tricking the spellwork, at the same time."  He sounded impressed, which was saying something, so Thistle allowed himself the burst of pride.

"Thank you."  Thistle paused for a moment to give Tamlin a grin,  "I had all summer to work it out as I was digging the pieces out.  I always found I liked a bend in one, a arch in another, a zig-zag in a third, and just ... You know what they say about necessity and invention?"  It was rhetorical, no one needed to answer, but they were all nodding as they watched anyway.  "I don't know.  I used to refurbish skateboards and bicycles.  No trucks, gears, or wheels here, but the idea is similar."

"Naw," laughed Billy, "it ain't sim'lar 'less y'been hackin' up boards'n gluin' 'em t'gether."  But he watched anyway.  There were moments where someone showed some clever bit of thought and it seemed to capture the whole common rooms attention.  Thistle'd had it a few times, but not many.  This, on the first night back, felt amazing.  He just wished Keavy were there too, even if it may not have had the same effect on her.

Most of them had gone to bed by the time he was adding the footrests and finishing up with the bristles.  He was excited, planning to try the broom out after breakfast, but he was more excited about seeing Keavy.  He knew sleep wouldn't come easy, but he also knew it was an important element to keeping the mind sharp, so he said his good nights to the final few stragglers and headed off to bed.  He was asleep in moments, the blessed familiarity of the room, the bed, and the pleasant sound of the wind whistling around the tower windows, all more than enough for him to drift off, unaware that he was falling asleep.

***Next Morning***

Hufflepuff hadn't reached breakfast yet, but Thistle made sure he was sitting with his back to theirs, in case she wanted to sit near him.  He'd finished eating just as they were walking over and pushed his new broom down the bench to make room.  He had gotten a lot of strange looks and odd comments about his Frankenbroom, which, with one painted section and three non-painted sections of different wood types, looked as cobbled together as it was.  The woods had merged into each other beautifully, leaving strange patterns of the different types at each joint.

Keavy and Chicachi had been given the brunt of the concept by over-enthusiastic first years who had listened in on last night's conversation in awe.  After they moved onto other things, the conversation rolled around to schoolwork.

"Oh!  That's because there are frogs, or toads, in the choir.  The first row hold them up.  Or ... perhaps they play them as instruments.  I've never tried to teach one to harmonize."  He joked, grinning like the happiest man on the planet.  "Ancient Runes can get boring, especially when they're multiple similar runes and you have to know the differences.  It's tedious, but I took it for the field work.  If I come across some lost or forgotten place, if they have advice for creature behavior carved into a wall, I'd hate to miss it or spend my time with my nose in a book translating.  Ghoul Studies, on the other hand, is fascinating.  Think of it like the dark version of Care of Magical Creatures."

He seemed to realize he was rambling, and reigned himself in, but conversation came easily to the pair as it had been so long since they'd last been together.  It was only made more awkward, and more absolute bliss, that there was a different sort of attraction blooming than simply what had been back then.  She sat so close to him, and he felt tingles running through his body that had nothing to do with excitement over classes or his new broom.  "I'm really looking forward to it.  To this whole year."  He beamed at her, that unabashed shine of total happiness, and he ran his fingers through his long, brown hair, brushing it back out of his face.  "I am always here for you, Keavy.  Always."  He seemed to realize what he'd said and quickly adjusted it to, "I .. uh mean, for help, of course, heh.  And will gladly take you up on Potions tutoring, though really, you should thank the Grey Lady for that one.  She talked me into sticking with it."

   

At the mention of the Grey Lady, Keavy could only blink in recognition. "Wait, Grey Lady? Where have I heard that name before?" Her eyes blinked several times in confusion, her mind trying to recollect as to just where and when she had heard such words together in a phrase or sentence. Yet the memory was like water in her hand, trickling down and in between her fingers. Giving a long sigh after a long minute or two she shook her head, "Never mind. I don't remember. But either way, I should really thank her when I do see her!"

What she didn't know however was that the very person or- supernatural being they were talking about, just happened to be behind Keavy. Hovering close to her side but just out of her eyesight. The older elegant beauty only gave a soft touch to the teens head, as if petting her head. Her voice a haunting coo, "Thistle, she's even more so up close. Why she even looks more like someone I know."

Keavy hitched her breath and nearly yelped before covering her mouth. Knowing that it was impolite to scream in front of a ghost- or so she thought. "I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to it's just that I didn't see you and um... Please don't be angry! I just-I mean! Um... T-thank you so much! F-For helping Thistle!"

"Now now, no need child." Keavy gave a rather dark flush of embarrassment at the mention of being called a child. She was way older than that! It was then that the Grey Lady floated above her and then through Thistle making Keavy blink as the younger teen watched her leave.

"D-Does she do that? I mean. Often?" Keavy question with a bit of skepticism before Rowan, Thistle's Captian of his Quidditch team had changed the subject quickly. Knowing that Thistle would be at a small bind as to how to explain that kind of question to Keavy.

"You know, Thistle- keep kicking your broom it's going to break again."

Keavy looked down making her smile as she let her question go. It wasn't that important to answer- for now anyway. Plus, it was nice to look at his so-called 'Frankenbroom' again. Her head tilted in thought as she looked back to Thistle, "You hadn't tested the flying capabilities yet have you? Because if not why not we have a race around the school before Charms? I could use a quick flight in the morning air. Besides, it's good practice before I have a chance at trying out for Hufflepuff's Seeker position tonight."

Rowan whistled in awe, "First day and already trying out for Seeker? Well, might actually be easy. Since Hufflepuff's Seeker is well..."

Syvanna sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. "Don't even say it, all of us know. Believe me- we all know. Ever since she came on the team we had never won a game by the Seeker."

"Wait, seriously? Then damn all the more reason I need to get in! I'm a Hufflepuff now and I have to do my part! I was Seeker for my last school since the second year and well not to toot my own horn here but- I was pretty damn decent." Keavy smiled looking over at Thistle, "We even beat the Thunderbirds a few times. Eh?" She teased before giving Thistle a slight mess of his hair as she got up.

"Let me go get Dragon Frost and I'll meet you out in the Court Yard! Dad got it for me this year since my last broom was pretty worn out. And I'll tell ya, this one is a pretty fast one. Meet you there!"

Thistle just smiled and laughed as the Grey Lady seemed to have fun at Keavy's expense.  He seemed fine with the encounter, and if Billy Boggle's comments had any ring of truth to them, he certainly shouldn't have looked so calm, but there was no sign of worry plaguing this one to make Keavy actually worry.  Although, he did noticeably shiver, in what looked like a good way, when she passed through him to leave, but if he realized it was an odd thing to witness, he didn't show it.  Instead adding to Keavy, "You should feel honored, Ireland.  She doesn't talk to, or in front of, other houses.  Not normally."

"Kick my broom?"  He asked, not understanding the comment, but then Keavy was looking over his broom and he swelled up a little with pride.  It was a strange looking thing to be sure, and longer than the norm, but he HAD to have a reason for the wonky design, moreso than just trying to look cool.  "I haven't, but keep in mind, I'm a Keeper now, so I was going for quick maneuverability over flight speed.  I don't mind helping you prepare though, and mine is tomorrow night, so if I want to stay the Keeper, I'll need to get practice in as well."

As the conversation turned towards Hufflepuff's Seeker, Thistle became uncharacteristically tight lipped.  Well, that isn't entirely true.  Thistle was known for only speaking when he had something to say, but Keavy's presence had certainly wrangled his tongue away from the cat, until now, when he fell silent again.  He didn't seem to approve of the criticisms, but neither did he deny them.  It wasn't until after they'd all spoken that he added softly, "She tries really hard, practices all the time, she'd just make a better Chaser."  He seemed to feel bad for her, but it was a mere flicker.

"Hahaha, Yes,"  He livened up again as she mentioned Ilvermorny, "I seem to remember I was always getting in trouble for not hitting the bludgers in you direction, ever."  Grumpily he added, "People called me Pukwudgie's secret weapon."  He laughed as she mussed his hair up, but a discerning eye would notice how deeply he blushed at her contact.

"Oh shite," Rowan said, "That's a great broom.  If she can handle it, we're going to have a problem."

"Oh, she can handle it alright."  Thistle picked up Frankenbroom and began to head outside, half his teammates in his wake.  "She was the youngest Seeker ever at Ilvermorny for a reason."




They left the castle and headed outside onto the grass, Rowan holding onto Thistle's bag for him as he dropped his broom on the ground.  "She'll be a few moments, so I'm going to give it a try now, just so I'm not falling off the thing as she's flying circles around me."  Rowan, Billy, Clive and Tamlin all fanned out around him as he held his hand out above the broom and said, "Up."  It lifted off the ground and flew right into his hand in a single, smooth motion.

"Well, that's promising," Tamlin commented, but everyone else remained quiet as he mounted his broom for the first time.  He had built an insane amount of zig-zagging into the handle, something none of them had questioned, but they had all been wondering over his reasoning.  It even appeared as if he'd thrown an extra one, lengthening the broom more than necessary.  As he lifted off the ground, his reasoning became immediately apparent.  Instead of holding a straight broom, the jagged branches left him fancy grip holds that gave him much more maneuverability with jerking the broom.

"I don' fuckin' b'lieve't!" Swore Billy, as Thistle lifted off and changed direction repeatedly.  He never lifted up more than fifteen feet above the ground, but it was plenty of room for him to juke, jive and even do a couple barrel rolls.  "'e Fuckin' did't!"   But it wasn't as easy for Thistle as he'd made it look.  In fact, the broom seemed to be confused, and while it followed his directions, it felt as if shaft wanted to head in several different directions at once.  He touched back down on the ground, lifting the broom before him to run over it with a critical eye.

"Something's wrong with it."  He muttered, as he turned it to eye down the length of it and then checked the bristles.

"Didn't appear to be," Tamlin commented as he wandered closer, running a hand over the length of the wood.  "You're a great Keeper Thistle, don't take this to mean you aren't, but I've never seen you move like that.  Nothing is getting through those goals this year."

"Thanks Fitz," Thistle allowed him to look over the broom, even handing it off to his upper classman as Rowan and Clive both sidled in closer.  "It just ... it felt, off.  Like it was being hexed or something."  Cerulean eyes held some concern, but he had to admit, though he had to pull harder, it responded with record flight changes.

"Frankenbroom is probably confused,"  Clive mentioned, echoing his own thoughts as he brushed his hand through the bristles.  "You took at least five different brooms, maybe six, and they are all different woods, right?  Well, it's like with Wandlore.  Different woods have different traits.  Your broom isn't sharing all of the traits, it's just like each section falls to different rules of behavior, and so it's conflicting with itself."

Rowan chimed in, "That ... makes a lot of sense, Clive.  I'm proud of you.  You trying out for Quidditch again this year?"  He nodded his head, silently, though he looked pleased he'd gotten that compliment.  "Good to hear.  I expect to see your flying's improved as much as your wits."  She said with a playful grin.  Everyone laughed, even Clive, and then Keavy arrived on the lawn.

Thistle mounted his broom.  He wasn't lifting off, however.  Preparing, but not rushing her.  "Hey Ireland," he called out to Keavy, breathing life back into an old pet name for her.  "See that tree?"  He nudged his head in the direction of the Whomping Willow and explained it's sentience and anger management issues.  "Offhand, that's the only warning I can think of for a flight around the castle, but that thing is really bad news.  It's the real reason my broom was entirely irreparable at the end of last season."

When she heard her old nickname leave Thistle's lips, that sealed his fate. She watched him closely, as memories flashed across her mind. The day that she had learned just why those kids had called her 'Erin' that would always make her cry every night. Thistle had then not only stood up to them for her but even gave her a new nickname. Ireland; simply because as he stated, 'fuck them, you have to own it.  Being Irish rocks.'

Well, own it she will. When she dashed out of the Great Hall, Syvanna with her not far behind. "You sure you can do this? I mean we do have Charms soon."

"Relax Chicachi, I got this." They made haste when she called out to her broom the moment she entered the Common Room, saving them a few minutes before coming back out to the Great Halls and heading towards the Court Yard. "Besides, Ichabod is going down."

"Who? Wait, What?" Syvanna asked as she quickened her pace to keep up with Keavy, "Elaborate you, bloody woman!"

"You see, Ireland is the nickname he gave me, so I have one for him which is Ichabod. He knows my reasons. Inside thing between us. You just what his reaction." Keavy stated giving the blond girl a soft wink when they caught up to the group. Thistle mounted on his broom yet, not hovering over the ground as he waited for her. When he once more called her by the nickname, making her slowly take off her robe. Syvanna took it carefully as to not let it get wet from the morning dew. Keavy then allowing her broom; the elegant frost blue with dark blue bristles, lean against her body as she pulled back her hair tightly as to keep it tangle free and out of her face into a high ponytail. And lastly, she folded her sleeves of her uniform button down neatly. Finding that feeling the wind on her arms much more pleasant when she flew on her Dragon Frost.

Finally, she mounted carefully, normally she wouldn't fly in a skirt but she will make an exception for this special occasion. Her eyes focused and almost in a flare of taunt as she looked over her side to Thistle when he explained about the Whomping Willow. "Very well, I say on three we go."

She allowed the silence to linger before she shouted, "Three! Eat dust, Ichabod!"

Keavy loved flying, when she was up so high in the air, it was just her and her boom. The sky all around her with the wind brushing against her skin, with her Frost Dragon it was almost like a part of her as she glided up, down and zig-zagged around any obstacle that came into her vision. All the rules of the terra firma vanished like haze to the dawn's light when she mounted her boom. The sense of freedom when she kicked off made her laugh giddily, always wanting to go faster, pushing herself to her limits. With no one to tell her no, tell her to slow down, or mock her. In the sky, she was her own Mistress of Destiny.

She noticed someone's scarf was stuck in a tree, swooping down she grabbed it and quickly let it go, unsure if the person had caught it or not but she continued on, seeing Thistle coming up as she smirked. "Aww, Ichabod getting a bit of a vendetta against little moi?"

Thistle groaned and seemed to deflate as that nickname was tossed out and Keavy shot off like a rocket.  The crowd were noticeably awed at the speed with which the Dragon Frost carried her into the air, even Thistle's mouth dropping open as he watched her fade into the distance, feet still firmly on the ground and seemingly in no rush to take flight.  Frankenbroom shifted between his thighs, hovering slightly, but not lifting off.  He knew she thought she was being cute, but he just saw it as insulting.  If anything, the name of the kitten shows which team he's on and it surely isn't the long-nosed school master.

"Did you see that?!"  Cried Syvanna, making sure everyone in the area noticed who she'd come in with.
"She is SO going to be the new Hufflepuff Seeker!"

"What are you doing, Thist!"  Rowan called out to him, "You're never going to catch her now!"

"But,"  Thistle began, looking completely baffled by what was going on.  "This isn't a racing broom!  I didn't build it for speed and no one ever set up a course or a finish line or anything!  I'm not even sure what just happened!"

"Ugh, Thistle."  FitzLochlan this time, "Don't be thick, mate.  Just fly with her for now, and hurry it up.  You got Charms in 45 minutes."  A wink tossed Thistle's way, seeming to mean all sorts of secret things about this broom match, but he really didn't get it.  He began lifting off the ground again, jerking right and left every few feet until he was about 15 off the ground.  He couldn't spot Keavy anywhere, at first, and then he saw her swoop down and drag a scarf free to drop for some first year beneath a tree.  "That's it!  Tamlin continued, "Go get her, Thist!"

He leaned forward on his broom, low, like a bicyclist, and set his hands on different, mostly vertical zags, gaining a sure grip.  He was wrong about his broom, it could be a quick little thing, but it was no Dragon Frost!  He sped off to catch her, but there was no contest.  Unless she drew back on her speed some, he couldn't keep up with her and the distance between them grew exponentially in double quick time.

He could see her laughing, calling something over her shoulder, but for the life of him, he had no idea what she was saying.  He smiled back anyway, happy that she seemed to be having so much fun with it.  In truth, he was spending way too much time fighting to keep his broom straight, rather than enjoying himself.  He was too much of a struggle to focus on doing anything else besides steering, and even if he got the hang of it, he doubted he'd be able to release his hands to grab a Quaffle.

Luckily, try outs wasn't tonight, because he would need to keep working on his broom, or borrow someone's spare, if he didn't want to get kicked from the team.

The faster that she went the more that she realized she was getting too far away from Thistle, perhaps she should turn around now? Part of her urge to win yet, something in Keavy made her hesitate. Call it a sixth sense or a woman's intuition but she found herself turning her broom around as she froze in horror.

She watched as if in slow motion, Thistle's broom becoming unstable as the handle pointed downward towards the ground, taking a straight nose dive, the students below screaming for help. She looked around for anyone with an ounce of experience to help him but she knew they would be too late- or was it just her overall fear that they would be too late? Her mind whirred, eyesight growing fuzzy, darken, unfocused and trickling into a dream state that could almost recount into a horrifying nightmare. Blinking fiercely, she kicked her broom into action, not caring how close to the ground she would possibly get.
Keavy just knew she had to get to Thistle.

Bending low over her broomstick, Keavy streaked towards the younger man; she was almost there. She let her knees continue gripping the broom as she reached out and caught him by the waist, "Let go of the broom! I got you!" She commanded in a tone that she hoped he would comply before giving him a tug. At the same time slowing her broom down to the point that both could touch down safely. Her head still spun as she held him tightly to her, with her heart pounding, the race long forgotten. Her arm hugging him tightly as she silently whispered to Thistle.

"Oh dia, Ó dia, chaill mé beagnach ort! Arís! Tá an-brón orm!" (Oh god, Oh god I nearly lost you! Again! I'm so sorry!)

"Oi! Are you two all right?! I saw the whole thing!" Keavy looked up and turned around to see a rather taller young man with short brown hair. His face almost made her flinch slightly in fear based on such an intimidating look the younger man was looking. That was until he held out his hand to help her steady her broom and allowed her to mount off. "I have to say, what you did was quite impressive and quick thinking in such a dire situation. Most people would have been frozen in fear, but you took action. Oh! You're that new sixth-year student in our house!... Keavy right?"

Keavy blinked as she looked up at the face before flinching again, "Um. Y-Yes! But I don't think we've met. Who?"

"Sterkenburg Cranach. But please call me Sterk. And I know-"

"Stop scaring her Sterk!" Syvanna called out as the rest of their friends rushed over to them making Sterk sigh in annoyance. It wasn't his fault that he was infamous for his intimidating looks and "scary" face. Although he means no harm, people often scream or act shocked when seeing him for the first time (and often the second, third, fourth etc). He was a good guy, honest! And he would always share a special bond with his Hufflepuff Quidditch team, after all, he was the Captian.

"Syvanna, I wasn't. It's just my face... Anyways, I was just about to ask her if she needed any help and if so I was going to help her back to her classes and explain since she might be late to her first day."

Thistle had been trying to speed up, but his broom became more unstable at faster speeds and the handling, so sharp and precise, easily got away from him when he pushed it to try and catch up to Keavy.  Much like a car fishtails on an icy road, his broom swung back and forth as if sweeping his path from the sky, while his elbows jutted out to either side in a desperate attempt to control the broom.  Overshooting his corrections sent him into a spin that ended with his nose dipping and him entering a spiraling free fall!  It was exactly like what had happened at the end of the prior year, except he hadn't had his broom with him then.  Pulling hard on the broomstick, he straightened out, but couldn't seem to pull up out of the dive.

Then, suddenly, there was an arm thrown around his waist and a voice shouting for him to release the broom.  As Keavy slowed her brooms speed, his fell away from underneath him anyway, all he had to do was release his hands.  She was slowing down, his arms and legs dangling, and all he could think about was the feel of her breasts pressing into his back.  It was a surprise that left him stunned and unable to answer as she whispered to him in her Irish-speak.  His knees and hands were against the grass, he was on the ground, and Keavy was dismounting behind him, the sensation of that soft pressure fading, but the memory of it remaining.  "Thank you, Keavy" he managed, "I was really worried I'd miss the first day of classes."

If this was an anime, his nose would have been bleeding, but instead, he merely panted heavily and stared at the ground as Keavy was assisted from her broom by Sterk and surrounded by those who had been watching.  She was being cheered on as a hero and they were exclaiming about how well she could fly, how quickly she swooped down to catch Thistle.  "I can't fuckin' believe y'caught 'im!"  Billy was shouting!

"I Know!"  Rowan added, "She was so far up above him!"  Thistle had known he was never going to match speeds with her, but something about the situation sort of punched him in the gut, making him feel less proud of what he'd accomplished.  It wasn't really fair of him to match up his first attempt at broomcrafting to a top of the line model that had recently bypassed even the Firebolt Supreme, but it was hard not to.

"I wouldn't have thought she'd make it either,"  Tamlin amended, "but, only because he was so close to the ground already!  That broom is incredible!"  Yeah, her broom really was pretty badass.  He turned to see his sticking up out of the ground like some sort of crazy marker.

"Not the broom," Rowan corrected him, "It was the rider!"  Ugh, that was ... yeah.  Keavy really knew how to handle that broom.  He knew he shouldn't take it personally, but it was hard not to.

Thistle finally looked around and lifted himself up off the ground.  He dusted off his knees, wishing he'd taken his robe off first, as she had thought to do.  He couldn't see Keavy anymore, surrounded as she was, and he thought perhaps she might end up hoisted up on shoulders, but he could hear the conversations.

It had all happened so quickly, he didn't understand what Sterk was talking about.  They still had just under thirty minutes left before ... oh ... He's making an excuse for reasons to get closer to her.

Jealousy was a new concept for Thistle, he didn't really understand it, but he could feel it begin flooding him like a sort of green monster energy that he recognized enough to try and choke it down.  No one was watching him, so he moved away from the group, stepping over to the broom that had buried itself a third of the way down it's shaft.  He tugged it from the ground, earth and some mud clumping on it's zig-zagging sections, but coating everywhere else, and began knocking it against his boot, trying to clean it as much as possible, without wiping it down.

Twenty-five minutes until Charms class, fifteen until they needed to get moving to keep from being late.  He looked at the dirty Frankenbroom and considered tossing it.  It wasn't like he could reuse the parts after those charms he'd already worked into it.  He would have to start over with new bits and see what he could manage, maybe paying more attention to the type of wood this time, or perhaps a transfiguration spell to make it more one solid whole and less stuck together parts.  Either way, this first attempt could not just be tossed aside.  He'd study what he'd done and figure out a way to make it better.

Should Sterk's attention bother him this much?  Fuck.  If he was getting this jealous from her meeting male house mates, he was going to have a problem.  Rationally, he knew it was silly and that her team would be there for her.  It was a new school and she needed to find her niche.  He forced a smile as he stepped over towards the group and found it wasn't that difficult.  He was proud of her and found he was happy she was turning out to be so well liked, even if the jealous still tinged his thoughts.

He couldn't see her, but he called out over the circle,"I gotta run back to Ravenclaw Tower and drop this broom off before Charms, Keavy.  I'll see you there?"  He almost yelled out, 'Thanks again,' but that sounded silly.  He'd make sure they sat together in Charms class and he'd repeat himself then.  She deserved to hear it more face to face.

Keavy felt slightly overwhelmed by the attention yet, she was finding her chest swelling with radiant pride that they had acknowledged her flying skills rather than for her... Other assets she had gained over the years. Clinging to her broom by her side as she gave them weak smiles and thanked their compliments. Turning to Thistle she watched to see his broom, buried deep into the ground as her heart sank. Part of her felt as if she was at fault for his broom being in such a state that it was condemned to. She had heard him say countless times about maneuverability and yet, here she was in a race of speed! Of course, it was an incongruous move on her part, not to mention arrogant. She must be such a doltish, dense, half-witted git on the face of the planet.

She heard Thistle about rushing over to the Ravenclaw tower, "See you at class!" She stated back, trying to catch a glimpse of him but Sterk had blocked her view as he checked her.

"You don't appear to have any cuts," Sterk stated coolly as she gently pushed his hand away. "Heh, independent and tough too? Are we ever the tough one? Wonder if it's an act, or do I get to see it live once more when you try out for my team?"

Keavy found herself staring up at him, his eyes a honey brown that made her stomach drop and pool warm in her pit. She tore her gaze back to Syvanna, "We should put my broom back too. if I don't then we will be late for class for sure."

"Charms is on the other side of the class, and unfortunately for you- first days are everything for a new person such as yourself. Here, let me take the broom back for you. I promise you that I will treat it with care." Sterk reached out gently holding his hand in reassurance to Keavy. Syvanna smiled, giving Sterk a pat on the back.

"Aww look at Hogwart's knight once more helping a pretty girl in distress." Sterk sighed but giving Syvanna a side smile. "Keavy isn't in distress, it's just helping a fellow student out. Plus, think of it as my first impression of myself. I wouldn't want her to think that I'm just some ordinary guy who walks by everybody and doesn't help at all."

Keavy felt her smile widen, Sterk just seemed so nice and calm while everyone was excited and jubilant, it was a nice balance. "Ok, thank you and yes. I plan on hoping to show you more of my skills later tonight. You can just set it in the Common Room closet by the fireplace. That way I know where it's at when I come back at lunch."

Sterk nodded as he watched Syvanna tug on Keavy, getting the shorter girl following her towards the other end of the Court Yard and towards the direction of Charms. Rowan crossed her arms and smirked in a teasing way. "If I didn't know better, I say you almost want her as your Seeker."

Sterk only gave a bigger grin, "I can't say you're wrong in that assumption. But, having someone like her in our team just might be what we need. A nice change of pace rather than just drama. Now, if you excuse me."
-+-+-+
Professor Filius Flitwick, who taught Charms at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was preparing books and props for his first lesson with the sixth years. He would have a group of students from two different houses, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. He loved the school year, seeing his old students once more for more lessons since he knew the first year.

As he looked at his lessons before the bell went, he sighed happily to himself and got down from his pile of books that would level him up to the top of his desk. He stood at the front of the class and looked out at the many desks bookshelves that stood in front of him. Flitwick smiled to himself and thought, 'Everything is perfect for the students.' At that, the bell went to signal the start of lessons. He could hear the faint chatter of students outside the door. Professor Flitwick opened the oak door and the loud chatter of the students died away. He then noticed that there was one new face, ah yes! The transfer!

Keavy however, who sat down next to Thistle and Syvanna was staring down at Flitwick as if to think that the teacher who was supposed to be him, was pulling her leg. This tiny, elderly man could not be Professor Flitwick. Never the less, Flitwick beamed at them all, arms folded, red face, which gave him a look of a small, drunk dwarf.

As the teacher started his introduction Keavy looked at Thistle, "I'm sorry- For everything."

Thistle raced up the stairs, parkour-ing his way over a railing to land on a set of steps that was sliding past the one he was on and continued up.  It was a slick move, which would have been awesome had it been witnessed.  Within moments he was turning off of the last set of stairs and arrived at the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, west side of the school, fifth floor of the tower.  He approached the grand doorway that had no knob or handle and the bronze eagle, which acted as a knocker that didn't knock, turned its metal head to gaze upon him and pose a riddle his way.

"What gets wetter and wetter the more that it dries?"

That was such a ridiculous question, Thistle made a newbie mistake, responding with, "Really?!" instead of the correct answer, that he knew was a 'Towel.'

"Incorrect." The knocker chirped.

"No, no, no!"  He spit out, "It's a towel!"  But the knocker was unmoved to answer him now, most likely offended by his criticism.  "Urgh!  You stupid f-!"

"Now now, my sweet Thistle,"  Called an ethereal voice from nearby, "Is that any way to speak in front of a lady?"  He turned to find The Grey Lady standing by an arched window, one hand raised as though she were caressing the stone sill.  "Join me for a moment, please, my dear."

He apologized profusely, but she waved him off except to wave him on to hurry.  By the time he reached the window, gazing down to where she pointed, he spotted Keavy and Chicachi extracting themselves towards the school.  Sterk was watching Keavy, half-ignoring Rowan to stare after her in what he could only describe as a sort of 'hungry' look.  He was pretty sure, though the distance was to great to really know, where Sterk was staring.

He felt that build up again, his left hand coming down heavily on the stone sill, but not making more than a muffled thud.  "Damn it."

"Again, with the language.  Not as sweet as you've led me to believe, are you?"  She asked, but she was half-smiling.  She leaned in close to the side of his face as his eyes drifted back down to the coeds.  "You need to hurry, do you understand me?  If you do not tell her how you feel, someone else may beat you to the punch."

Thistle's eyes darted up to Helena's, though he could see right through her, literally.  "I know ... but I don't know what to say."

"What sort of attitude is that for a Ravenclaw?"  She chided him, but that slight smile still broke through her generally-constant look of sadness, "Or would you rather it were me who you spent your evenings with again?"  He looked up at her, but she brushed him off, "I'm kidding, of course, but if she breaks your heart I'll drop her off the roof myself."  And with that, she floated through Thistle in a downward motion, sinking into the floor.  Right before she disappeared, she called out, "A towel," and the door to the common room swung open, waiting for Thistle to stash his broom and grab his books.

*** Charms***

Thistle made it to Charms with plenty of time, and ended up throwing his messenger bag on the chair of the desk beside his, to save it for Keavy.  "Two seats this year, Mr. Dunwich?"  Flitwick called out to Thistle from the stack of books he perched upon.  "Will you be doing twice the assignments then?  Lofty goals for a N.E.W.T. level Charms class."

He chuckled in return, knowing the little man was being silly.  Teacher humor.  "No, Professor, just saving the seat ... but as we have a few minutes, could I speak with you about my broom?"  Thistle went on to explain all of the spellwork that had gone into his Frankenbroom and what had ended up happening with it this morning before class.  Flitwick was listening to him wide-eyed and nodding.

"Well done, my boy!  Well done, though, there are more efficient ways to manage what you had done, it should have worked."  He paused to think, "Could you bring it here so that I may see it?  I doubt that the wood would have been so resistant to the bond, but we may try other things."  Thistle nodded his head and lifted his wand, to summon the broom to him, but the professor cut him of, "No, no, Thistle.  Not now," he chuckled, "Clean it first, please, and look around.  You've got tunnel vision."

Thistle hadn't noticed, but Professor Flitwick had dismounted from the stack of books and moved closer, appraising the room, which was now full of students!  Keavy was walking over to him with a smile, and he grinned as he removed his bag so she could sit.  "Hey Keavy,"  No teasing nickname this time.  He couldn't stand for her to come back at him with 'Ichabod' where so many may pick it up and begin using it.

"Sorry?  You didn't do anything wrong, Keavy.  Thank you again for saving me.  Really, I owe you."  And then class was starting, after a small dialogue between Professor Flitwick and Keavy, the new 6th year.

Thistle was an avid note taker, both writing things out, highlighting in his book, AND writing notes in the margins.  There didn't appear to be a reason for the various different manners at first, but he had to have one.  As Flitwick began to review, Thistle turned to look at Keavy again.  He'd done so often throughout the class period, stealing glances and smiling at her with that knowing smirk of his, but there was a shyness to it that hadn't always been there.

The Grey Lady had suggested speed, but it just seemed like it was too soon.  He split the difference in a note, scrawled quickly during a review of material covered in the beginning of the days lesson, on paper torn from his notebook.  He quickly folded it into an origami frog and set it on the edge of his desk where she could see it.  It sat there, until Flitwick turned away to write something on the board, and then hopped from his desk to hers.

Unfolded, it read, 'Would you like to go with me to Hogsmeade?'  Of course, that would be delayed if they weren't given leave to go this first weekend, but eventually, he thought it would be nice for them to catch up.  Perhaps get her away from other students for a while so they could really talk.  He was dying to ask her if she had a boyfriend, but there was always someone else standing there and he didn't want to get into such personal stuff.

It wasn't much, but it was a start, which he felt was the safest way to not come on too strong, too soon.

Keavy found herself blushing before shaking her head, "I did do something wrong- If we hadn't even done this stupid race, to begin with. Well, you wouldn't have your broom that you crafted so well- ruined by me." When Thistle had thanked her for saving his life she only felt her gut stabbed again but she could only smile at him. "You never owe me- if anything I owe you, for a plethora of things." She whispered back to him, finding her cheeks heating up before she cleared her throat as Professor Flitwick had called the class to settle down so he could welcome them.

"Welcome back to Charms class! And I do see we have a new face, which of course we all met last night, but please stand up!"

Keavy then nervously stood up and gave a small bow to her fellow sixth years, "H-hai." Professor Flitwick smiled broadly as he nodded to Keavy, "So, Miss. MacDónaill I do believe that your parents are Ailbe, and Sadhbh? I knew them very well. I am also very happy to say thank you personally for your family's contributions to the Wizarding World in regarding of the latest edition of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' I found this edition rather riveting!"

Keavy found herself smiling when the Professor mentioned the book, her mother's greatest work and it was a fantastic journey indeed. Plus, the memories with Newt Scamander along with her father during those nights in the kitchen as they discussed the book and creatures that they had seen and wanted in the book only made it that more worth it in the end. Keavy got to be part of that and witness it all. "On behalf of my parents and Newt himself sir, I want to say thank you for the kind words." She gave a small bow before she quickly sat down, allowing him to go on with the lesson of the first day.

Throughout the lesson, however, she found herself unsure just which note was more important. Finding her mind in a whirl of uneasiness as she looked over at Thistle, his knowing smile only made her blush and smile back. That was before she looked down at his notes her eyes widened in awe and slight envy. It was then she blinked as a small frog hopping towards her, cupping her hands as it hopped over and into her cupped hand. At first, she found herself smiling, Thistle was always the better one at origami than she was. Looking over at Thistle who was quickly taking down notes she found herself suddenly nervous. Why was he sending her a note? Was he bored? No- this was one of his favorite classes!

Hitching her breath she looked down at the frog, touching it in a certain way so it could unfold itself as she read it carefully.

'Would you like to go with me to Hogsmeade?'

She read each word twice, three, and four times before Keavy found herself unable to stop smiling, did... Did Thistle just ask her to a date?! Oh, she hoped he was serious! But wait- he didn't say it was. Her eyes quickly took a scan at Thistle's direction making her bottom lip move under her teeth in contemplation. Should she take that leap and assume it was a date?

Well, when you make an ass out of u and me...

'You mean as a date?'

Keavy scribbled down quickly, using her wand as it folded quickly into a paper bird, waiting until the Professor had turned his back once more before she blew gently on its wings as it started to flutter over to Thistle's desk. Her attention quickly snapped back to her note taking, her hands shaking in nerves.

Thistle had glanced at her secretly, watching her reaction as he tried to force himself to keep writing.  Her lower lip disappeared in between her teeth for a moment and he almost made a noise!  There was something about that look on her face that kicked him in his teen-aged hormones and left him floundering to figure out what it was he'd been stirred up about!  He didn't know what noise he would have made, because the tip of his quill suddenly snapped and a loud *CRACK* resounded through the room! 

He looked down to see the broken tip had been flung from his desk and while he heard someone cry out as it had struck them, he didn't see who it was.  He was all too focused upon getting a new quill from his bag as quickly as possible.  Satchel up, he glanced her way and saw she was writing a reply, but she looked hopeful and inside his mind he was cheering.  His mind was swimming with a confused blend of gratitude for the return of his best friend, promise for what could develop, and ... something else.  As she was writing, his eyes may have traveled down her body and back up.  He wasn't sure what it was, exactly, but it reminded him of that look Sterk had given her, and made him want to close the distance between them.

He pulled out a fresh, black feather, dipped the point into his inkwell, and watched a paper bird swoop in for a landing against the pages of his text.  He blinked, scribbled something before missing it, and stuck the quill into his ink to quickly unfold the note.  Had he been that obvious?!?  He had been trying to play it cool! 

He turned to watch her both trying to take notes and looking towards him for an answer.  Oh man.  He tilted his head back and forth, like he was considering the answer, looking at her face, those gorgeous eyes of hers, back down at the books, but he wasn't taking notes at the moment.  He was too busy trying to decide how honest ... and that did it.  He had to be honest with her.

"Well ... I mean, yeah?"  He was whispering, leaning towards her across the space between them.  Gods, she smelled amazing.  He wanted to roll around in her scent and wag his tail ... which was the weirdest thing he'd ever thought and threw him completely off his unintentional, minor game.  "As long as you don't have a boyfriend or anything, of course, because obviously that'd make it just, you know, old friends catching up.  Best friends.  Right?  But if you don't, have a boyfriend I mean ... we can still catch up, and maybe see if there's something more here?"

"Did I miss something, Thistle?"  Professor Flitwick asked in front of the class, watching him whisper to Keavy.

"U-uh, n-no sir!"  He stammered, "Keavy and I were just ... uhh discussing tutoring.  I was going to help her in Charms, and I was asking her if she'd help me in Potions, sir."

"Ah!  Good, good."  And he seemed pleased with the excuse, "It is important to know your strengths and weaknesses to advance and grow, but how about you discuss this after my class ends?  If Miss MacDónaill has any questions during class, she can pose them to me directly.  It may help another student who doesn't have a ... study buddy."  For some reason, that last pair of words set off the other students into laughter at the insinuation. 

"Yes sir," Thistle ruddied up, cheeks burning with embarrassment, and he turned to glance at his partner in crime, mouthing 'Sorry!'  He was running through what he'd said, hoping he hadn't thrown her under the bus by accident, but he was pretty sure he hadn't.  First class of the first day.  Well, at least he'd only talked to him and not both of them!  He would have felt horrible if she'd gotten in trouble because he hadn't responded by origami note.

Keavy didn't know what to do when she heard Thistle's voice close to her, frozen in not fear but something else, she just didn't know how to describe. Her eyes slowly moved over to Thistle's unable to help but locked into his. The words he spoke almost made her heart stop, or at least she felt it did. Was it because of his eyes? Or the smell of cinnamon and spice wafting close to her.

Wait, so long as she doesn't have a boyfriend? When did she ever have one? Her cheeks felt even red on her skin, making her throat dry. Suddenly, her heart sped as she shook her head, "N-No I don't have a boyfriend!" She said in a hushed whispered, her words rushed making her suddenly turned the attention back to the Professor and to the lesson.

She bit her lower lip again, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear as Thistle was able to talk to Professor Flitwick out of their potential point detection or detention for that matter. Still, the class' laughter only made her blush that more. Study buddies... Sure. Yet, her smile couldn't be any bigger.

Syvanna only could snicker along with the rest of her class before leaning in and whisper to Keavy, "Your ears are as red as your hair."

"Oh shut up," Keavy whispered back but both were smiling. Keavy looked over at Thistle, her smile going back to its normal side grin. "Also- um. Yes. Yes, I do want to go."
_+_+_+_+_
After class, both Syvanna and Keavy packed up before Syvanna looked over at Thistle, "Well well, look at you handsome. Such a big grin on your face. So, why don't I let you two travel together onto the next class hmm?"

Keavy blinked as she watched Syvanna wave them off as she turned around and headed off leaving them alone in the hallway. Keavy turned back to Thistle giving him a small nervous laugh. "So, nice save back there. Um, Well So, about that date? Did you have anything else in mind?"

She smiled, stepping closer to him as she leaned on the wall of the hallway. "I mean we have a bit of time before we really have to go to Magical Creatures."

"N-No I don't have a boyfriend!"

Thistle's lips curled into a wide smile that made his cerulean eyes sparkle with mirth.  "Good," was all he said, until class ended, but the smile never left his face, as Syvanna noted.


***Hallway***

She had given him an opening, he was sure of it, and she crept closer, dragging her shoulder against the wall as though needing it to hold her up.  She looked so shy, and he marveled at the strength of this girl once more.  Strength she'd never seen in herself, not then, but seemed more aware of now.

"Thanks, but I always have other things in mind," he said softly, "you know that," slipping closer to her as she did.  There was something delightfully wicked, playful, about his grin, as he leaned against the wall, mirroring her.  Their faces were so close, it would take the smallest movement to bring their foreheads together.  Thistle lifted a hand, letting one of his fingers twirl a lock of red that was drifting between them on the breeze of passing students.  "I missed you," he admitted again, "so much."  But things felt different now, after all these years, when he looked at her, his breath and heartbeat quickened.  He wanted something more, and he didn't know if it was inappropriate. 

He'd seen others, close friends who'd ruined their friendships by trying to make it into something more, but, if it had felt anything like this, how could they not have tried?  But, they had further to go to get to Care of Magical Creatures than she realized.  "Unfortunately, we have to hurry.  Care of Magical Creatures is outside, a short distance from the school, but ..."  Maybe they didn't have to wait until the weekend.  His hand left her hair hanging between them, reached out for hers, to gently play with her fingers as he looked down at their hands while speaking his next suggestion.  "After your Quidditch try-outs tonight?  We'd have an hour until I need to get to Ghoul Studies ..." Those soft blue eyes lifted, seeking her pair of green, "then after, of course, we have until curfew."  They should spend the time reviewing the lessons, information came quickly and he knew they'd need to be careful they didn't let this attraction affect their school work.

They needed to move soon, to begin walking, or else they might be late for class.  He knew that, it wasn't even like they were parting yet, as they had their next class together, but ... there was something about this moment in time that was magical in a way that had nothing to do with wands or potions.

Keavy felt her spine tingle from her nape down, down to her very end and spread throughout her body in an electrical thunder that she had never felt or even thought of ever experiencing before. All by his finger touching a lock of her red hair. The thunder within her turning more apparent as her breath hitched quietly. "Missed you more."

Why was this so hard for her? Dammit, Thistle was making her into putty in his hands, and she was letting him! She had to play it cool and better than him. After all, he always had the upper hand when it came to their usual adventures they had when they were children. Her mind opaque and far from the thoughts of classes, "Hmm?" She found herself closing her eyes for a moment as his fingers touched her skin when he released her lock before he touched her hand, his own fingers playing with hers as his voice seemed quieter, almost as if his suggestion was far far from studies. Which she found her forehead leaning forward to touch his. "Perhaps you can show me a good quiet place to study that is far from everyone? I'm sure you know a good place or two."

Blue was locked to Cerulean Blue, Keavy had so many nights of seeing Thistle again, so many dreams of finding Thistle after her Schooling and telling her feelings, running her fingers through his hair, and bringing him close to press his lips to hers. Some nights she found her dreams of going beyond that first kiss, of wanting to see just what kind of man Thistle had grown as. Unfortunately with her on that kind of night, she always found herself waking up; her body aching, burning, and needing something to relieve her from the torture that dream Thistle had put her through. Ugh, if only Thistle knew just how much she had waited, longed for him...  No; Now, now he will! Fuck class- it would only take just a second. Just one kiss. A small one- a sample for things to come.

"Thistle." She held his hand with a small tremor, trying to keep her excitement inside of her, ready to yank him even closer.

A deep sound of a person clearing their throat made Keavy close her eyes in an almost pained expression before she covered her face with a small smile, turning her head to look to the person before she jumped in shock at who it was.

"Sterk, I can explain."

"I rather you didn't," Sterk stated calmly, his arms folded and looking directly at the both of them, his eyes rather cold yet calm. Keavy wasn't sure rather or not he was angry or what emotion he was expressing. "I would, however, like the both of you to scuttle to your next class before I regret deducting points from you Keavy. Go."

Keavy quickly nodded, taking Thistle's hand as she led them out of the hallways and out towards Hagrid's Hut. "Jesus, I didn't even hear him coming up at all! I-I" Keavy soon found herself laughing looking over at Thistle and giving him a wink. "I forgot he was a Prefect. So I honestly hope you know a place where they don't patrol if we are ever to make it past curfew."

It wasn't easy for Thistle in the least, his head swirling with a whirlwind of desires for some sort of physical progression, and an self-conscious desire to hold off due to inexperience and fear.  What helped him was he remained aware of Keavy, clinically so, to witness and accept that she was positively reacting to his slight advances and even pushing forward herself.  This eased his fear and validated that need for closeness not being a one sided desire.  It didn't help that there was something all too sensual about her mouth that he didn't recall from their earlier time together.  He wanted to feel the plushness of her lips against his, wanted to taste her, wanted to let his hands roam her body like a lecherous anime character!

As their foreheads touched, he closed his eyes, breathing deeply to calm down, but her scent was intoxicating.  She missed him more?  It made his head swim, the idea of it, and he licked his lips which had gone suddenly dry.  He could feel her breath against his face, they were so close to finding out if there was a physical chemistry to them beyond this apparent lust they seemed to feel towards one another.  He didn't know if that was the right word, but he was aware of what he wanted to do to her and could only imagine that she felt similarly by how she responded and even drew closer.

"I can think of a few places, but none of them are fool proof.  I think, should it come to that, we would have to risk it ..."  He felt tingles of excitement at the thought, as for some reason, that risk seemed to make the reward even sweeter.  She said his name, a throat cleared, and suddenly she was panicking and offering explanations to a boy she'd only just met!  Not even met, not really!  Thistle shot bolt upright, the distance opening between them now as he looked between Sterk and Keavy and tried to figure out just why she'd have to explain herself to him.

His response was cold, sounded, at least to Thistle, way too personal and entirely out of line!  He took extra offense to him regretting taking points from Keavy, but not Ravenclaw.  Sure, he would have been taking them from his own house, but that wasn't the feeling he'd gotten.  It was more of an 'I like you and don't want to do this to you, but will if I have to.'

"Wait, what?"  He began, but Keavy cut him off, grabbed him by the hand, and began to pull him off to class.  He might have argued, but it dawned him that she was holding hands with him.  Sure, not intentionally, not in the boyfriend/girlfriend way, so much as leading him, but he could feel her hand clearly.  It was hot, a little clammy from her nerves, and the skin of her palms felt so smooth and soft.  He followed after her like a puppy, stunned to silence by that simple physical contact.  She thought she was putty in his hands, but it was just as much so for him.  "Past curfew?"  he repeated stupidly, "We'd probably get caught returning to out houses.  Better to take advantage of our free period, unless ... you meant to spend the night hidden away together."  After he'd said it, he realized the implication of what he'd said and was struck dumb by how presumptuous that sounded.  "I'm sorry, if that ... if that came out badly."

After they had gotten a distance away, and he'd realized what had actually happened, he turned to her and said, "I think he's jealous, Keavy.  He had no reason or right to shuffle us on or threaten to deduct points.  We weren't doing anything wrong and he doesn't know what classes we have next.  How does he know we don't have a free period?  Besides, we still had plenty of time.  I could see if he knew, and classes had started, but he just took a stab in the dark to cover up the uncomfortable moment he interrupted."  That may or may not have been true, as a Prefect, it would have been their word against his, but if someone could check the exact time points were deducted, they would find that Thistle and Keavy still had nine minutes to get to class.

***Outside Hagrid's Hut, Edge of the Woods***

They still had a few minutes to spare when arriving.  Not much, maybe two, but it was enough for Hagrid to great him fondly, introduce himself to Keavy, and embarrass Thistle with commenting how he was his best pupil.  "These creatures take t'Thistle like he's one o' them, they do, like ol' Chomper here."  Hagrid's old mastiff had trotted up, snuffling at Thistle for attention, his long tail wagging fiercely behind him.  Thistle seemed overjoyed to see the dog and even crouched slightly to ruffle his fur and rub his ears.  He didn't have to crouch really, this dog was huge.  "I even mentioned him t'yer parents,"  He told Keavy more directly. 

She had thought he was good at Charms, but that was because he tried so hard.  Charms and Transfigurations were the backbone to wizardry, if you asked Thistle, but Magical Creatures, therein lied his true talent and passion.  He had almost given it up to stay with Keavy, four years prior, but his instructors were very clear that he needed to follow this talent and Hogwarts would allow him to do so in a way Ilvermorny couldn't have. "When they'd come around asking 'bout my top students for the Ministry.  Was surprised on all sides when they realized they knew him.  Doubley surprised that they knew his mother and never realized."

He turned to blink at Keavy, "Your parents knew my mother?"  But of course, she wouldn't have known that as they had only just found out recently, but Hagrid continued.

"Not just knew 'em, they was close, they were.  Siobhan and Ailbe were Hufflepuffs together, same year, if I'm rememb'rin' correctly."  He was cut off from sharing this new news, however, as the rest of the students had finally arrived and the class lesson needed to begin.  Lucky for Hagrid, or he may have ended up sharing more than he should have.  He seemed to have a habit of following the conversation into areas best left avoided, by a teacher or parent's perspective.  Hagrid moved away to begin speaking to the group, but Thistle was staring at Keavy, wide-eyed and open-mouthed as he absently stroked the dog's fur.

The very instinct of taking his hand has always been so natural to her, yet this time it was so different to her. Since when did Thistle's hands become so much bigger than hers? His fingers were able to wrap around hers so easily and it both surprised and excited her. Plus when he came closer to her, just how much statuesque Thistle is. When their foreheads touched she didn't know just how much he had to lean down to do so. Part of her wondered when did this happen? How did both of them become so well-proportioned teenagers that were close to adults in the wizarding world?

When she had heard about spending a night together she blinked in shock but, surely Thistle didn't mind the times he spent the nights at her house back home. That was before her mind flashed to her dreams making her shade of pink turn to a deep strawberry hue on her cheeks. "Well, Ichabod why don't we get going hmm?"

When they had been about halfway down the long steps to Hagrid's Hut Thistle had stopped leading Keavy and told her about his troubles with Sterk. Making her head tilt in confusion, "But, you do know that Prefects can't take points from other houses, just their own? I mean, I sort of made sure I did research on what is what about what school I was going to go to. I just don't know where everything is since the stairways change so frequently it makes my brain hurt."

Her fingers brushed back her hair as the wind blew to the east, a rather hard breeze that even made their cloaks take a hard blow in that direction. "Thistle, he was just doing his job that's all. Plus you did say unfortunately we had to get going. So, technically if anyone was to be in trouble, to begin with, it was me for nearly making us late. Well, potentially late." Before more was said she walked around him, brushing her shoulder against his chest, " The last thing I want to do is to get you in trouble."

***Outside Hagrid's Hut, Edge of the Woods***
When Keavy had met Hagrid she found the half-giant very pleasant company. That and Chomper to be an added bonus to their little social party. Laughing at Thistle's embarrassment at Hagrid's praise for being the top pupil. As for Chomper, the huge mastiff was almost big enough for her to ride on! It took some time for her to pet him, but she was soon getting his licks and begs for pets all the same.

When Hagrid had mentioned her parents she was taken aback by his statement. "My parents? What do you mean? Were they here? When?!" Hagrid then had mentioned Thistle's mother making her eyes widen with overwhelming shock at the information that was given to them. When Thistle had asked about his mother to Keavy she looked at him, unsure just what to say. But it seemed Hagrid had more to tell, opening Keavy's mind and revealing more secrets about her parents then she had ever thought about them. Both were Hufflepuffs? Well, that certainly does explain how her father knew about that strange platform 9 3/4. But a few other things in her past that she will have to shuffle through much later.

Leaving Keavy and Thistle stunned, Hagrid came to the front of his yard, introducing himself to the class as well as what appeared to be a small stage. Her eyes went to Thistle once before she shook her head. "I didn't know any of this Thistle... But I think we need to talk to mom and dad soon because if they did go here then... That means they were here when- that day happened too."

Keavy didn't know what all was said, but she did catch, "I didn't know how fittin' this would be, seein' as we have a new student from this house at Ilvermorny..." from Hagrid making her turn her attention back to Hagrid. What did he mean by that? It was then she saw it; Pukwudgies. A creature that is known to have grey skin and grow to be about 2 to 3 feet tall. Also having long ears, and notably similar to house elves. Yet, are distantly related to European Goblins. It was then she found her heart leaping to her throat in joy. Hagrid was indeed a very good teacher and so thoughtful too. In his own way.

"So, Miss Keavy, could you tell me what this creature is to the class?" Hagrid said as Keavy beamed, walking up to him and giving a good look.

"It's a Pukwudgie, meaning 'Person of the wilderness' in Native American languages. Unsure how long they can live for but they said William- a famous Pukwudgie had been alive for over 400 years since he is still at the school. They are close to it's European Goblin family, and they will get no bigger than three feet. Although in Ilvermorny, they say those who are under this house favor the healers. Which is my house, are very loyal and protective to those they love." She walked around the small tree stump stage, "This one isn't talking, however, so I don't know how to properly address you."

Hagrid smiled as he clapped his hands, "It's ok Keavy, sadly this one is mute because this one is one of our helpers in the castle grounds. He lost his voice during the Battle." Keavy frowned but gently placed her hand on the creatures head, looking down at its large eyes as it stared back.

"Go raibh maith agat. Is mór dúinn fiachas saoil duit."(Thank you. We owe you a life debt.)

The creature gave a big smile, holding her hand as she brushed her thumbs over its small knuckles, feeling as much care for it as she could convey to the creature. Hagrid then asked anyone else to place more information on the creature as Keavy stayed where she was.
_+_+_+_
Keavy sat on the window ledge; looking out into the twilight sky as the pink hues turned purple to dark blue. Today flew by for her, but she felt so frustrated. Not in an angered way, but of something else. Her body burned as she closed her eyes, flashing back to this very morning- then to every time she was close to Thistle their hands would brush, his fingers would touch her cheek, her neck, her arms. Every time they would want to do the one thing both wanted. Thistle did get to brush the corner of her mouth- before Rowan called out to him from around the corner of the hallway.

It was just too cruel to the both of them! It was always not the best time; Teachers, students, cats, and she was sure Peeves threw those soapy paper balls that nearly hit them on purpose.

Keavy shook her head as she groaned, although the Quidditch tryouts turned out perfect for her and she was the new Seeker they had indeed taken longer for her than she wanted to. Her body was still severely sore than she had wanted to be. Fingers barely holding onto her notes as she felt like just wanting to tell Thistle that they should to go somewhere and never return until both can get this... Frustration out of them. No. No no no. This was a study session. She had dignity! Still, wanting his lips on hers, on her skin and even wanting more than what she could ever dream up was making her nearly crimple her notes before she opened her eyes and loosen her hold.

She was hopeless...

Keavy was happy that she had her bath, it did warm her body on a cool night and helped loosen her muscles a little, plus she was able to place her hair up to help her focus. Using her Thunderbird quill to keep it up she felt she was ready for this. She was even wearing a simple white undershirt and flare jeans. Nothing fancy, nothing to expect.

Her eyes closed again as flashes of so many dreams of Thistle's hands touching her skin, his face to hers, a mere inch apart; knowing how long his fingers were and how easily he could gather both of her wrists with a single large hand.

Ugh! She had to think about Charms and not his charm! Why can't she stop thinking about him being on top of her, holding her arms above her head as he touches her? Oh, Keavy you are an idiot. She thought to herself in dismay.

She had been right, of course.  Neither of them knew how long they had been watched and overheard.  With Thistle having tried to express the need for them to move along to the next class, it made perfect sense for Sterk to know they needed to be somewhere, and to direct his warning towards Keavy specifically.  It made perfect sense, if Sterk was the sort of asshat to offer warnings disguised as threats, something Thistle believed he was.  But then, it hadn't come off as a threat to Keavy, only to him, and he knew now he was being silly, but he couldn't shake that feeling that there was something for him to be worried about where Sterk was concerned.

If Keavy and he were in a committed relationship, he could trust her.  He WOULD trust her, with his life, but they weren't.  Hadn't even seen each other in four years, but this tsunami of feelings and realizations had awoken and left him vulnerable to these irrational thoughts. What is irrational about not wishing competition for Keavy's affection?  Especially with an ... asshat, was it?  "Shut up, brain."  He grumbled to himself softly enough to not be overheard.  He watched her as she walked alongside him, as she circled the Pukwudgie, his Keavy, for she felt like his.

He had to stop that, though.  She wasn't his, she was her own person and this jealousy was going to make things harder for everyone.  He found peace in those thoughts, and watching her, overjoyed over the Pukwudgie, as she circled the small creature and talked all about her kind.  She liked him, like that, he was sure of it.  No poker face, that one, so what did he have to worry about?  It was the fact that, little by little, through shared classes, shared moments, shared glances and mouthed words at lunch or dinner, he'd realized this wasn't new.  He had always felt this way for her, but they had been so young, back then.

Hell, half of Ravenclaw probably thought they were already an item, the way he would go on about Keavy his first year at Hogwarts, (The other houses, who didn't know about Keavy, probably just thought he was gay,) and while it had not been constant, as he wouldn't have any friends if it had been, her name would pop up here and there over the next few years.  Of his dreams, he remembered few, but nights when he would awaken with a gasp, his pajamas and sheets sticky with his seed, it was Keavy in those dreams.  And now, here she was, at Hogwarts.

Trying out for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, no less.  Thistle was in the stands, watching the try outs and perusing a book on wood personalities and traits, only half researching for his next broom attempt.  Flitwick had found the time to look over his Frankenbroom, and was shocked to discover it had actually been affected by a Confundus Charm!  Of course, Thistle immediately suspected Sterk, but he kept that to himself and shook his head, stating he had no idea who would have sabotaged his flight as such.  He had not seen Keavy yet to tell her, but he knew it would make her feel better to know she hadn't been responsible.

The hour had come and gone, most of those who were trying out had now moved on to late classes or study sessions, or perhaps just to be social in their common rooms, but Sterk and Keavy remained on the field.  He was drawing out diagrams in the air with his wand, showing her Hufflepuff strategies she would need to know if she were a Chaser or a Beater.  It was a good sign, he must have already decided to place her on the team, though the results would likely be posted in their common room later.  He felt bad, assuming this meant she wasn't going to be a Seeker, and waited to console her while congratulating her for making the team, but another forty-five minutes passed of watching them chat from a distance and Thistle was out of time.

He was forced to head to Ghoul Studies, a class he'd been taking since his 3rd year when electives became an option.  Luckily, it was all introduction and review, because he couldn't stop thinking about Keavy and Sterk on that Quidditch Pitch!  It was so frustrating!  He had seen Sterk glance his way, he had watched as he spent fifteen minutes teaching her and then another thirty just talking, and he couldn't stop worrying about it! 

"For the next class," Teddy was saying, no - wait, Professor Lupin.  That was going to be difficult.  "I would like you to read ahead in Chapter 12.  Vampires and their Ilk."

"And no," Hagrid began to add, "I will not be inviting one in to join us."  The pair of mismatched professors laughed suddenly, at the idea.

First day and he was too busy worrying about Sterk to focus.  At least he'd be able to read ahead and prepare himself for the next session.  As he stood to gather his things, he decided to look for Keavy, after he changed his clothes.  She liked him-liked him.  He was sure of it.  And they had something special, he could feel it whenever they were in the same room, there was an electricity between them.  He wouldn't let Sterk shake him up any longer.  Of course, he didn't need Sterk to shake him up, as Keavy did it just fine, all by herself.

Stepping out of the classroom, he came upon her perched upon the window sill and his jaw dropped.  If it hadn't been clear before, how much she'd changed in their time apart, it truly was now!  His mind went straight into the gutter and he couldn't even be jealous of the gawking she'd received from the other 6th years in his class from both his own house, and from Gryffindor.  He couldn't blame them!  If this had been a cartoon, he would have been the Big Bad Wolf and she would have been Red.  His eyes popping out of his head, jaw hitting the floor, and his tongue unrolling multiple feet across the stone!  He'd been swooning over her face, eyes, her skin, all day, but now, without her robes, in different clothing than before, he was doomed to make an ass of himself.  Those breasts of hers, those legs ... he was dying to let her walk ahead of him so he could watch her ass and he was sure of it.  He was doomed.

It should be illegal for anyone to be this sexy.  "H-hey Ireland,"  He tripped over nothing and stumbled a step closer, but was still a few feet away, making it all to easy for her to see there had been nothing to trip on!  "You - uh,"  Shit.  Was it a compliment or rude to ... well, he'd be non-specific.  "You smell amazing."  No wait.  "I mean, look!"  Smell, look, either way, like you would taste amazing! Shut up brain! "You look amazing!"  The feather caught his eye and without realizing what he was doing, after closing the distance, he reached up to pluck it from her bun, allowing her hair to tumble down in cascading waves.  Fuck, she was too beautiful for words. 

No, don't say that outloud!  Say something else, hey ... wait ... "Is this a ... Is this a Thunderbird feather?"  Did she wear this for his sake?  He suddenly wanted to pounce on her, but luckily, he didn't, or they may have tumbled out the window!

When Keavy heard Thistle's voice, she opened her eyes and looked over, feeling her heart skip a beat. Usually, she found her nickname of Ireland when he was saying it to get under her skin but; well, it was getting under her skin but in a different way now. Watching him trip over himself was amusing as she slid off of the ledge of the window, still leaning her lower back on its edge.

"Watch out there." She said honestly, unsure if he was just doing it to be funny or if he was just as nervous as she was. But- it was just a study session, what was there to be this restive about it.

"I smell amazing?" Keavy blinked, finding herself unable to keep back her giggles, "Well thanks, I did ask mom and dad to ship me the body wash from home since London doesn't seem to have it. Not only that I had to figure out the right shampoo and conditioner since the air here is surprisingly different-" Thistle had interrupted her, stepping closer to her as words from her mouth failed to form into the space between them.

So, Thistle did notice the feather that was holding up her hair, the moment he slid it out of her hair she felt her locks fall to her back. The smell of him was enveloping her senses as Keavy could only nod, "Yea, I thought if I am to practice the nonverbal spell to levitate it. I wanted something a bit more challenging than a baby goose feather."

She folded her notes quickly, taking back the feather as she worked rather in a hasty pace to get it in her hair back into a high lazy bun. It's few strands still on the sides of her face and just a tad on her nape. But she gave him a small shy smile. "Lead the way, Ichabod."

_+_+_+_+_+_
The room was rather large, secluded and she had no idea it even existed. Then again, when Thistle explained it to her that Hagrid's office was something that Hagrid didn't  use, the half-giant decided he give Thistle the key so he could get away from the Tower for studying. Still, the desk and chair that had spare parchment folded on the desk were very quaint. A standard for any Professor she was sure, but what gave it such a homey and uniqueness was the giant chair, a couch both the size for the half-giant that was huddled by the fireplace. With the small round dark wood coffee table in the center.

It was perfect.

Taking her feather off of her bun and letting her hair slide down, she placed on the coffee table. Taking a few steps as she stared at it. "Ok, here goes."
_+_+_+_
So many countless times she tried, yet the feather did not budge, making her pinch her nose in annoyance. "Goddammit what am I doing wrong?! Fuck, ok ok, I just need to clear my head..." She rubbed her neck, wincing a little at it soreness. Keavy waved off at Thistle's concern, "It's fine- Just from the tryouts. I'm just glad that I made it into Seeker. No, Thistle, I mean it."

Her words fell on deaf ears as her small protests only led them to the large armchair, his arms easily pushing her down to her knees and leaning her back as he sat behind her, his fingers finding the tight knots that needed to loosen. "As always you are looking out for me." She found herself smiling, leaning into his touch. "I do miss the days of when we go on our silly little adventures. Potions, Alchemy, what sort of secrets we could find in the school and which teacher we can drive up the wall."

She giggled at the last statement, his voice soothing almost honey on her ears. "Thistle, I know you had to go for your path. And-" his hands moving down to her shoulders made her skin feel tingly and bumpy. "I don't know if you would have held yourself back if I asked you to stay."

Keavy turned her head, his hands moving so they were below her arms to the upper side of her ribs, "I don't ever want you to hold yourself back because of me. Ever. Please, mo mhac macúil." (my handsome wolf)

Even when Thistle was sitting down, he still towered over her, his presence so overpowering that she felt drawn to him. Her head felt fuzzy, her eyes once more locked on his as she tried to not look like that shy little first year that he first met. Soon, forgetting the feather on the coffee table before them; she gently kissed him, her lips barely touching his before she lightly eased back for a quick breath- so shakey. Yet, her lips came back to his again, wanting more as she tasted his lips, it felt so... intoxicating.

Thistle watched as she made the attempts to use the levitation spell without words, looking up from his Ghoul Studies text.  He'd been so focused on helping her, he'd never even read the first word, the book had just sat upon his lap as he'd repeatedly murmured words of encouragement.  "Ok, wait."  He closed the book and leaned forward in the over-sized chair, placing the text on the table beside the feather.  His hands lifted to run his palms and fingers against his cheeks, surprised at finding how exhausted he was already.  "I believe you're overthinking this and it's making it harder on yourself than it needs to be.  You'll need to practice with each charm, because you need to will the right thoughts into your mind, but, in theory, we should be able to do almost any spell without a wand or words.  The only reason we don't, I believe, is because it's too dangerous."

Instead of letting her reply or ask questions, he continued with his explanation by backtracking to wand introduction.  Holding his wand out, so it was balanced upon a finger from each hand, he began with, "Your wand is an assistant, but it isn't doing the magic for you, exactly.  It's a focal point you channel the abilities you already possess through that is then bolstered in strength and directed specifically by the wand.  But.  And this is the tricky bit.  We've all done magic before arriving at Hogwarts, or Ilvermorny in our case, before we ever received our first wand.  Children of like us are notorious for making things happen through accidental emotional overload.  The only reason we don't now, generally, is because the power is being utilized so it isn't building up unused in our systems waiting to burst out and cause chaos."

"But those kids, they ... If it hurts that much come here.  No, really.  You can't do your best if you're in pain."  He moved her back against his legs and began to work out the tight spots in her neck, carefully pressing with one or two fingers and unwinding the muscles through small circles.   She was so close to him now, it made it hard to think.  "Uhhh, soooo the wandless kids, without focus, don't decide what the magic does, where it happens, or how powerful it is.  Not generally.  The wand is for focus, but it is only required for precision and safety.  The words are similar, they are what assists us in forcing our power with purpose through the wand.  So ... Instead of ... Oh, yeah, here's a bad one."  He paused to focus on a particularly troublesome knot, "Instead of speaking the spell, you're thinking the spell and forcing it through the wand without assistance of words, but you're free to use whatever imagery or memory, or feeling, that you think will help bolster it best.  It'll be that much harder for every harder spell you attempt, but the fundamentals are the same and you passed the Charms O.W.L.s with no help from me, so I'm sure you can do it."

As she turned to look back at him, just like a nerd, he immediately said, "Oh!  Careful, you don't want to retweak anything!" And he leaned down to let his hands reach for her sides, turning her fully towards him, on her knees.  Leaning over as he was, this brought his mouth close enough for her to move in for that kiss they'd both been seeking and failing at completing.  He didn't even remember closing his eyes until she drew back and they blinked open, watching her face.  He'd forgotten all about what he had been saying.  She had nothing to worry about.  She barely resembled that 1st year any longer.

As she returned to kiss him a second time, his arms slid around her ribs more, hands urging her up off the floor towards where he was leaning forward, so he could rise more normally and comfortably.  He was pulling her up towards him, and she'd find that standing between his legs, which were now parted to make room to pull her in closer, they were the same height while he was dwarfed by the chair he was sitting in.  Plush lips pressed against hers, parting slightly to open and close against her mouth, suckling at her lower lip as he trapped it in his mouth.  His tongue grew bold, dancing forward to lick along the lines of her mouth, teasing her, without quite delving in between her lips more than a bit.

Hands wandered her back as he kissed her, holding her so close to keep her from backing away again.  They moved up over her shoulder blades, down the small of her back, and then braved the swell of her hips.  His fingertips were dancing along the beginning swell of her rump, not quite traveling low enough to be fondling, but he was on that cusp where a lowering of his hands would solve that mistake in an instant.

The feel of everything was so new and raw she tried to keep her voice from bubbling out of her lips. Instead hitched breathes kept her head light even when his tongue touched her lips. Thistle's boldness made her body shake as she found herself being pulled down to where she sat on her knees, between his waist. Her head still turned to keep her lips on his all the while. Keavy found herself wrapping one arm around his neck, her fingers into his hair as her kisses became bolder. The need for air only making her part her lips from his as she panted.

Her back was being pressed to his chest hard, feeling more than just the buttons on his button down, part of her thank god that he wasn't in his full robes. Otherwise, she would never get to feel the strong chest that made her lower back arch, her lower plump bottom grinding into his hips. Keavy couldn't help herself, every kiss and touch he was giving her was torture and yet she didn't want him to stop.

"Thistle." She thought she could say it easily, yet- it was breathless, so close to a moan before she found her lips on his again as she laced her other fingers on his hand, guiding it to her stomach and up to her chest, wanting him to touch her as he had so countless times in her dreams. Her kisses soon sinking into soft bites on his lower lip before she moved down his jaw. Keavy's voice mewling as her hips squirmed, feeling the need to turn around yet- the fear held her where she was at.

"Oh, Dia, Dia~"

Thistle was losing himself into those soft kisses, having meant to turn her to face him so he didn't hurt her neck, he no longer even thought about it.  In fact, any boldness on his part had been instinct stirred up by her closeness and the sound of her voice when she'd spoken to him in her native tongue.  Her panting gasps for breath made him moan softly against her mouth as strong arms wrapped around her, fingers playing against her stomach.  As she arched her back, grinding against him, she'd feel his hands grasping her hips and pulling her further back against his lap, until she'd find out just what sort of effect she was having upon him.

He was hard beneath that plush rump of hers, his manhood straining upwards in his trousers, along the length of his body, as if it were trying to crawl out of the waistband to his pants.  The underside of it so thick under her motions, hot against the fabric, it felt like it was trying to get at her through both their layers of clothing.  As she ended up upon him more firmly, his small moans became a surprised gasp edged by something louder.  His hair had been loose of it's ponytail, leaving it available for her to run her fingers through it as she rode atop his lap.  Loud, surprised groans escaped his lips into their kisses with each movement she made, stroking the bulge in his pants with the center crease in the back of her jeans.

As she guided his hand to her chest, his other joined of it's own volition, both moving up under to lift those large mounds of flesh in his cupped hands, squeezing them with only her minimal prompting.  There was no longer any conscious thought in Thistles mind, feeling what amounted to his first kiss, lap dance, and touch of her chest, all in the same encounter.  Her name escaped him in panting gasps, his left hand grabbing a handful of her shirt, low on her waist and tugging it upwards so his hands could find her bare skin.  Fingertips located the lower hem and delved beneath it, danced over her stomach and back up without her guidance. 

He found those breasts of hers again with quick, determined movements as what 16 year old male wouldn't be itching to get their hands up under a woman's shirt?  Again, he cupped the from underneath, feeling the rough texture of the lace decorations and the smoother, stretchy cotton.  As their kisses continued, his fingertips discovered her warm flesh where it escaped atop the cups, so soft compared to the bra holding them aloft, and he suddenly realized what he was doing.  His mind was glitching, unsure if he should keep doing what he was doing, pull down on the bra to spill her breasts forth, or lift it up to let them fall free beneath the material.  Would she even be okay with it?  He couldn't know, he'd never done this before and had so many questions, but he didn't want to stop kissing her to ask.

Keavy heard her own breathing becoming heavy with arousal as his fingers touched her skin, her ears listening to every sound Thistle was making was the best music to her ears. The room was becoming too hot for her, the air too thick and she just couldn't- wouldn't stand the heat any longer!

"Thistle, I-I have to take this off." She found herself scrambling to break away, pulling her undershirt off before revealing her dark cotton blue bra, the lace pattern of light dots and a flower like a pattern when she turned around. Straddling his waist once more, pressing up close as her clever quick fingers worked on his button down, "You h-have to be just as overheated too." Her eyes caught his as she only smiled down at him, even if it was difficult to focus on anything but what she was feeling below her.

As if her newfound urges were determined to make up for lost time. Her appetite was insatiable, and Thistle never stood a chance.

Her hands wrapped around his neck as she kissed him again before breaking it to lean her head back to let him hear her groan when she pushed her hips firmly against his. Moaning his name a bit louder each time her hips moved.

Thistle was like a wild animal, growls of lust interspersed with his moaning groans, he was moving his body up against hers, grinding back against that softness.  A soft whine of need slipped from his lips as she could have easily finished him off this way, but he was granted a reprieve.  He had just begun to suck on one of her ears when she suddenly leaped off of his lap, leaving him floundering with gasping breaths and hands that were clutching at nothing anymore.  Confusion warred with passion and he would have tried to drag her back over to him if she didn't begin removing her shirt.

To say Thistle was transfixed may have been an understatement.  Had she said something?  He needed her back, so badly.  He felt like he was dying of thirst and she was his oasis.  That shirt of hers lifted, bringing her hair with it, so that for a moment, all he could see were boobs and stomach.  He made an indescribable sound, some strange cross between a needy squeak and begging, and then her hair tumbled down like a curtain that had been swept aside to reveal those glorious, bra-clad breasts.  It would have been any boy's dream, but it had been his for so long, even before he'd been conscious of this desire to get her top off.

Then she was on him again and trying to undo his buttons!  This was taking too long.  He reached down to yank his shirt up off of him and tossed it aside.  His undershirt had gone with it, and together they tumbled off behind the desk somewhere, unseen.  Underneath, he was all muscle!  He shouldn't have been, that lean body of his was taut with rippling definition, no wonder he had felt so strong.  Those arms of his wrapped around her immediately.

He was ravaging her with all the confidence she'd hoped for.  He grabbed her ass with both hands, squeezing it like he'd done it a thousand times before, and pulling her higher on his lap until she was straddling his throbbing length, though with her jeans seam, and this angle, it didn't feel quite as close for either of them, but that heat was building up through the material, between their arousal and the friction. 

Then, she was arching her back again, lifting her chest, and he knew he needed more!  His hands traveled up her back, entirely clueless about how a bra clasp worked, they moved to the shoulder straps, hooked fingers curling to pull down the material.  He wanted to see them, finally, to feel them against his face and hands, and of course, to take her nipples in his mouth and taste her.

Keavy found his hands were rough on her skin, calluses in just the right places that made her body stir. The more his scent was embedded into her memory the more she could actually taste it on his skin. Part of her wondered what he was tasting on hers? His mouth had hints of pumpkin and different spices and just something that was entirely Thistle. When his fingers dug into her shoulders she moaned.

Feeling his throbbing length that was very evident against her soaked boyshorts and heated jeans she managed to break the kiss once more, just so he could pull down her bra enough for her breasts to spill over and reveal to Thistle.  Her chest heaved as a blushed danced across them like strawberries drowning in cream. Her nipples tight and pink from the excitement he was giving her.

A knot tightened in her stomach that she realized that she was really able to feel him more and more. Her hips couldn't stop, she wanted more. Thistle's breath was hot on her skin, it was turning Keavy on even more and she felt dizzy and now she knew her skin was as on fire; hotter than any burning fireplace. Keavy kept making her effort at being quiet, yet her mouth started to spew any babbling of English and Irish that her hazy mind could think of.

Keavy did not taste like sea salt and kelp, thankfully, though the sweat on her skin did add a slightly salty flavor to her.  As his hands released her back, moving to roughly grab hold of her breasts with fumbling gropes.  If she had needed proof that he was a virgin, she just got it as he had obviously never seen or played with someone's boobs before.  He squeezed them, rougher than he should have, pressing them together to emphasize her cleavage as he rolled the massive swells in his hands.  Any upward grinding motion he had been doing had ceased as he focused upon watching as his fingers tweaked her nipples, not twisting them, but lightly brushing them with his finger tips and then pinching.  He had no idea he might have been hurting her, but then he moved his face in to kiss them all better anyway.

He took the nipple on the right into his mouth first, lightly sucking against that rubbery nub as it swelled up with his affections.  Something about her coloring made him think of strawberries and cream, but he was tasting skin, flesh, Keavy, but heated and so intoxicating he felt drunk.  He moaned against her flesh as he kept it trapped in his mouth, the wetted skin vibrating as he made murring noises, muffled by all of it.  She was too big to fit in his hands, but he was glad to try anyway, even squeezing the one he suckled with both hands as he learned how it moved and reacted to touch.  Unless she'd stopped him at some point, he would continue to do the same with the left, and then the right again, mesmerized in a way that may have even been unexpected, considering how he'd protected her from the attention they'd given her in the past and had never outwardly seemed to even notice them.  But really, he was just great at not getting caught looking!

His hands pushed her breasts together, his mouth taking both pointed nubs to suckle at the same time as cerulean eyes suddenly looked up into her face with a look of utter bliss.  Years from now, she would look back and know, for a teen-aged boy like him, she's sufficiently answered half his prayers this first night.  He suckled and licked her, his tongue running over the trapped flesh caught between the pressure of his lips and teeth.  He nipped the right one harder than intended in what almost seemed a farewell gesture as he pulled her down, his grip on her breasts not letting up, straining his face up to hers again, to try and kiss her. 

He might not have come out and said it, but there was something passionate in his eyes that said clearly that this was more than just, 'I kind of like you.'  Just before their lips would have touched again, he finally spoke, a voice deeper than it should have been, colored by lust.  "Keavy," he panted, rubbing his nose and mouth against the side of her face in a nuzzle.  "Will you ... would you ... do ...  "  He was having trouble talking, he was panting so hard, swallowing as he struggled to ask her to be his.  Finally, he swallowed and just said what he was thinking.  "I want you to be mine, and only mine."  Classic teen-aged thinking, that your girlfriend belonged to you, but he didn't know any better and in fairness, she'd already been referring to him as hers.  "And I will be only yours."  He rubbed his nose against hers, licked his tongue against her lips and moved in to kiss her again.

Thistle's tweaks and pinches did indeed hurt on her sensitive nipples. So, why couldn't she find herself opening her mouth to say anything about the pain? Instead, with each small pinch, she found her deep core throbbing, almost painfully as her chest.

Did she like this pain because it was from Thistle? Even if his administration seemed to be so close yet never quite to what she wanted. Still, Keavy did find enjoyment in Thistle's attempt.

Her mind wondered if his rough hands could do this much on her chest- just how much could he do if he saw her?

Somehow his roughness on his kneading was what made her hips finally slow.  Keavy felt a mixture of pain and yet, pleasure shooting through her chest that then spread throughout her body, making her shudder as her hazy mind started to slightly clear. With his lips on her areola and nipple, she found the sharp pains beginning to wean into soft pleasure. Her forehead pressed to his as she placed her hands on his shoulders, her breathing slightly labored still as her skin felt so shaky yet, so warm.

When their lips met- it was light making her softly moan as she placed her hands on his where her chest was, hoping he would let up on his roughness just a little. The deep thick husk in his voice was making her shiver again, her eyes closing as he nuzzled. Hot breath hitting her shivering skin as he asked to be his; the back of her mind wanting to ask for clarification but not wanting to break such a moment.

The Eskimo kiss from Thistle made her open her eyes as she felt her eyes open, only to be closing again as she was kissed again. Her soft moans drowned into his lips as she held him close to her. A soft chime of an old grandfather clock stated eleven making her break the kiss but still rest her forehead on his.

"Yes, I. Its all I ever wanted."

Her eyes opened to his, giving him a soft smile as she rubbed his chest, both having a moment to calm down. Her hands brushing on his chest as she tried to keep her breathing even. "W-we should get back, but wait, I want to try again."

She looked over at the feather that was left long forgotten on the coffee table, eyes locked on the Thunderbird feather as she kept her hips on his lap, her hands on his chest but all too soon the feather started to float making Keavy's swollen lips turn upright into a bright grin. "You know, I think you're great at making me relaxed."

When her hands found his on her breasts, her fingers running over the backs of his hands to lightly hold his hands against hers, he took her to be guiding him and in her gentleness, he too relaxed his grip into something softer and more of a caressing fondle than a grope.  He no longer squeezed and smooshed her breasts as though checking their limits, but only softly held them up with an easy rolling of the flesh in his fingers.  As he suckled upon the one, his mouth grew calmer, lips clamped to the aereolas and nipples as he kept some pressure built up, but his teeth were nowhere to be found against her flesh.  His other hand, one finger was now lightly brushing the distended nub, rolling his fingertip around the edges of it, or rubbing the tip.  With her soft action of her hands joining his, she'd soothed the beast his lust was bringing out of him.  His eyes on hers were full of ... something.  Gratitude?  Affection?  Apology for his roughness?

When she said it was all she'd ever wanted, she'd find him returning his mouth to hers with a kiss, but his hands fell down the sides of her body, experiencing her in a wistful last fondling as he could feel her preparing herself to pull away.  His face brushed along the side of hers, placing soft nuzzles and kisses against her cheek.  Hands settled low, half on her hips, half on her ass, as she began to draw back.  He cleared his throat, and she would find his face flushed and reddened at the same time.  He was having difficulty with struggling to stop, but he was doing it, flooding with pent up arousal and embarrassment for his actions and loss of control.  "I ... yes, uhm"  He cleared his throat again, "Try to think less, feel more, like a child doing magic by mistake, but still focus through the wand."

He drew back, his pants tenting with his excited male flesh, he adjusted himself with a tugging at the material, and moved back to settle deep within the oversized, plush chair.  As she turned to focus herself upon the feather, he'd found his hand was finding that hardness in his lap, stroking himself idley and without conscious thought.  Each time he brushed the material, taunting that sensitive flesh beneath, he'd realize what he was doing and pull his hand away.  He reached over the arm of the chair, grabbing a throw pillow from the sofa, and placing it on his lap, to hide his erection from sight should she turn back to look over her shoulder.  And then, she had it!

"That's it!  That's perfect!"  He exclaimed as she commanded the feather to rise, "Oh, Keavy, I knew you could do this!"  He chuckled at her comment, but corrected, "Yeah?  That's funny.  I don't feel relaxed.  I don't feel relaxed at all."  He chuckled, nervously, lifting a hand to brush the hair back from his face and expelled a gust of breath upwards as he was still trying to calm his breathing and pulse.  That pillow remained on his lap, his hands clinging to the arms of the chair, desperate to keep them away from touching himself, in case she should turn to look back at him.

Keavy laughed as she heard about Thistle not being relaxed at all. She turned to find the pillow as she rolled her eyes, "Well get this dumb thing out of-" What she didn't expect was such a tent in his pants making her stare down at him as she then felt the need to touch it. Looking down at him as she smiled, almost too innocently.

"Did I do this to you? Aww- I'm sorry." Her hand kept lightly touching it, almost afraid to put any pressure on it as she leaned down and kissed the back of his ear, before giving his lobe a soft nip. "Hey, maybe if we're lucky I can see this little thing up close? I'll show you my little special thing if you do."

She didn't know if it sounded right, but she was being honest. Keavy wanted to see his cock, or do British say dick? God, she didn't care. "But first- you need to be a bit gentle with my chest or no little special present. Otherwise, I can't get as warm as I am now." Keavy advised moving her hand off of his pants before she moved closer to him, her grinding coming back as she looked at him in the eyes. "I want more of this- I want to be your girlfriend. I do. I've always wanted to, I think I've always been yours since that night."

With that she held up her hand, letting them both see the light scar on her right hand, the long light scar that still made her smile as she pressed her face to his neck as if to nuzzle him back. "Don't you see? I think we were meant to end up like this. If tonight didn't prove it- I don't know what does."

Thistle had reached for the pillow in a panic, but his grip wasn't sure enough and she'd easily whipped the thing out of his grip revealing his tented pants.  He was pointed up towards his waistband still, arching up against the material with the underside of his cock, and as he was about to answer her, that 'Yes, she did make him do that,' all that came out as a squeak as his body went rigid and his breathing kicked up as if he were running a race.  There wasn't enough room in his trousers for it to stick straight up, but as her fingers lightly traced the underside of him, as it arched upwards, he squirmed and panted, unconsciously grinding upwards as he tried to get himself more firmly in her hand.  As she leaned over to kiss his ear, he gasped, fingers clawing at the arms of the chair.  He wanted to touch her so badly, but was terrified she'd stop if he did!  He managed to nod his head, emphatically, yes, he wanted to be that lucky and probably would have pulled himself out of his pants right there if she didn't crawl onto his lap again, blocking it from being released, out into the open.

"Keavy ... I ... Uungh!" He wanted to warn her he couldn't remain calm if she started up again, but the feel of her against him made him moan out in pleasure and need for more.  He was nodding his head and murred out an "Uh huh!" as she directed him.  His hands were much more gentle this time, but only one moved to her chest, cupping her left boob from beneath as he lifted it slightly, fingers curling up over the swell of flesh, his middle finger crossing her nipple and rubbing down against it, oh, so carefully.  His other hand slipped lower to grasp her hip as she began to grind against him again, so much softer than before, and then slipped past to fondle her plump backside just as carefully as his hand on her chest.  She felt her hands on his and even flexed some under her fingers, showing off.  He wasn't huge, like a footballer, but leaner like a swimmer, knowing that his body needed to be maintained like any other physical thing.

"You ... feel so ... good," he managed between gasping breaths.  As she admitted the truth, staring into his cerulean eyes, he realized that he had too, always, and said as much.  "Since I first met you ... Always, wanted ..."  he gasped as she teased him, making it harder to speak, he blurted in a rush "And I've never been interested in anyone else!"  He leaned in rubbing his face against hers, nuzzling her and even licking his tongue against her jaw, her neck, and her ear, as they moved against each other. "My Keavy," he said softly as he nuzzled and kissed her, the words filled with want and longing.  He drew back only when she lifted her hand to show him her old scar, reminding him of their childhood together.  He took his left hand from her rump to take her hand in his.  She'd find him moving her scar to place against his lips, where he kissed it, and then began to suck on the skin between her thumb and her first finger, his tongue playing against the spot, eyes closing.

"Mo mhac macúil"(My handsome wolf) Keavy stated softly as she shivered, feeling his gentle touches starting to stir her again, but this time instead of a boiling fire she was before it was a gentle simmer. Somehow she could keep her mind focus on the sensations and her surroundings. His lips on the soft part of her hand making her almost giggle with the tingling sensation it brought her. With her free hand, she brushed back his hair, her voice quiet as if the two could be heard by anyone.

"We should get back. As much as I wish we can stay here and do other things. I just think to avoid being caught we should get back to our rooms. Besides, because of you, I'm going to need a bath- again."

Keavy eased back, her hands stopped as she looked down at her jeans, her cheeks going a flush as her eyes closed, "You did this." Keavy found her button loose by her hands as if she was in a trance, soon her left hand had taken Thistle's and laced it while her right had started to slide under. Keavy cupped her throbbing sex on top of her boyshorts. Even the light contact made her gasp and from there everything went fast. She quickly slipped her hand down and put them to work on her clit in the profuse wetness. She was indeed close and did not hesitate to shove two fingers inside and pump herself roughly while using her thumb to rub her clit.

Keavy knew she was probably looking stupid for this but she never opened her eyes. Instead, she kept them firmly shut, pretending she was alone and masturbating in her room. But... When she reached up to bring Thistle closer to her she found herself licking a long digit, finding the taste rather- different but so good.

Keavy kept fucking herself and made every effort to be quiet. Keavy even had the second finger join the first into her mouth to keep from screaming because this felt so fucking good and she was sure she had let a whimper or two slip. Even when she let go of Thistle's hand and realized she was licking and sucking on his fingers she only brought his face close to her chest and neck. The feeling of his lips, on her skin, as she fucked harder, practically humping against Thistle when she felt a soft bite on her chest. That alone made her moan loudly.

As she got closer to her climax Keavy found it impossible to stay quiet and the silence of the room was broken by her escalating moaning and a final cry as she came hard on her own fingers. Her body trembled and shot up from her position, releasing Thistle's fingers from her mouth as her hips jerked forward before relaxing and slumped forward on Thistle's shoulder.

She kept pumping herself but slowed down her pace as she started to regain consciousness. Her thighs were wet and she was sure she had dripped into her jeans and boyshorts as well. She looked up at Thistle with an apologetic look on her face and was about to explain, make excuses.

"I-I couldn't help it, I just needed it. Please don't think bad of me." She slowly removed her hand, finding her fingers slick as she leaned forward to give her own fingers a lick.

Thistle thought that going back was probably a good idea.  She was right, and he nodded his head without removing her hand from his mouth.  They could spend the night and not get caught, but as soon as someone wanted to know where she'd been all night, there would be issues, and he was pretty sure there were two people, at least, anxiously waiting her return to Hufflepuff's common room.  He wondered, idly, if the results from the evening's Quidditch Try Outs had been posted yet and remembered that he'd never worked on another broom.  He should have cared more, but with Keavy half-naked and slowly riding his lap, he couldn't get himself to care about anything else.  There was just her.  Keavy, and her softness, and his mouth on her skin, where it should be.

He removed her hand from his mouth so his could join his other upon her chest.  There was no rational example for why this was so much fun for him, but he was sure he could spend the entire school year doing nothing but fondling her body if she'd let him.  But, again, she was pulling back from him.  This time, however, she didn't move from his lower thighs and knees, but perched, leaning back and looking down at her jeans.  He followed her gaze, not quite realizing her pants were soaked through, but he didn't have time to figure it out as her hands suddenly began unbuttoning her pants.  Thistle was overwhelmed, wondering if this meant they were going to do more instead of departing, and watched as her hand disappeared into the open front of her jeans.

The sounds she was restraining did something to him, built a different sort of energy within him as he leaned closer to her face, watching her face, rather than her hand, though she wouldn't know as her eyes were closed.  There was something about her pleasure being visibly written across her face, that meant more to him than he could have expected.  The only thing better, would have been if he was causing that breathing, that rosey cheeked, flushed face, lip biting, and those moans she was refusing to release.  Probably safer that way, in case someone walked by, but he couldn't help himself.  His hands kneaded her breasts softly, a finger on each playing with her nipples, as he leaned close enough to rub the side of her face with his own.  His breath was hot as he whispered, "Don't hold back, baby.  I want to hear you."  And then nipped at her ear.

He suckled and nibbled the edge, lobe, and then traveled along her jaw before his mouth opened more to lock onto her neck.  He moved around her neck, soft nibbles and gentle bites slowly increasing along with the suckling kisses.  She'd taken one of his hands from her chest and slowly began to suck on his finger as she grinded into him.  He moaned, so loudly, it must have echoed, but so far, they were still alone.  She lifted her breasts to his face, released his hand to pull his mouth against her hot skin, and he complied easily.  Her nipples took turns vanishing into his mouth, but he didn't focus just their.  His mouth traveled the whole width and breadth of her enticing breasts, sucking and biting as though he were walking around using his mouth.  The whole time, he'd pause to tell her, "Don't hold back, let me hear how good it feels."  And then his teeth would find purchase, a much more skilled nip that belonged to a more advanced lover than he.  Two fingers were in her mouth, and they were driving him wild, on the verge of coming himself, but his desire to help her through her climax gave him the focus to remain attentive.

As if to reward her, as she slowly began to make more noise, one of his hands found the forearm of the disappearing hand and his fingers and palm followed it down, between the parted zipper and undone button.  He didn't try to take over, it was almost as though, she'd not presented that part of herself to him, so he still felt it was off limits, but his hand disappeared nonetheless.  His hand lay gently aback hers, fingers parting to rest upon her fingers, feeling them moving, feeling the thumbs back and forth motions.  His hand moved against hers, making sure to remain on her hand and not to proceed too much further, he felt her as she began to bring herself over.  Her nipple popped from his mouth as his face sought hers again, and he moved in to kiss her gasping mouth, nibbling on her lower lip.  His eyes were open the entire time.  She didn't look stupid, she looked wonderful.  "C'mon, Keavy.  Come for me.  I want to hear it.  I want to feel it."  He whispered softly, and then latched onto her neck to continue his affections.  As she released his fingers, his hand, wet with her saliva found a comfortable place to rest, holding the breast that had been half neglected as that hand had been so busy.

His hand, on hers, remained through the experience, resting upon the back of her hand lightly as she slowed down and, panting like mad, apologized.  "There is nothing to be sorry about.  It's me, Keavy."  As her hand withdrew and lifted, his held it, both wet with her fluids.  His fingers curled around her hand, gently.  "This is how it should be.  You and me.  So why would I think less of you?"  He carried her hand away from her own mouth, and to his, where he licked her wetted digits and let one disappear into his mouth as he tasted her with a murring moan.  She may have been calming, but he was raging hard beneath her as he panted with need, sucking on her finger, and it took all of his willpower not to dry hump her until he finished as well.

Keavy shivered as she softly panted, feeling her heart race as her fingers went towards her mouth to suddenly be licked off by Thistle. Keavy's head relaxed on his shoulder as she held onto him lightly, basking in her afterglow and feeling a smile crept on her lips. "Yea, it is. I-I'm really- Thank you."

Keavy knew they had to get going now before they broke curfew. When he finished she found herself giggling, "Yea, really going to need that bath now. Come on you."

She finally stood up and started to pull her bra back into place, finding herself disheveled from their little make-out session.  "Um. Oh! There it is." She saw her and Thistle's clothes, tossed so haphazardly over at the desk. Getting over to the small pile as she tossed his clothes back over to him. "Ok, the second time, much better- way much. Maybe I should just not wear any underwear at all?" Keavy teased playfully giving him an innocent smile before she found herself finally looking somewhat decent for their journey back to their dorms. When Keavy and Thistle had to finally part she gave him a kiss, nipping his bottom lip before whispering, "For your dreams tonight." Unsure if it would leave any lasting impression but she thought it was better than saying some lame good night.

-+-+-+-
The early morning brought a rather intense wet dream for Keavy, only this time. It felt more real, and it had Thistle doing things to her that now- was more than a possibility. From licking her wet, swollen labia to even fucking her. When she awoke she had to release her self in the bathroom as she bathed, making sure that no evidence was left behind.

Then came breakfast-

"So~" Syvanna started, giving the redhead a rather knowing smirk. "How did the 'Study session' go?"

"F-Fine," Keavy stated buttering her toast rather longer than she had intended, not wanting to make eye contact with Syvanna.
"I got the feather up."

"I'm sure you did and he got the caldron really boiling didn't he?" Syvanna teased as Keavy glared at her but soon smiled and tried to hide her blush.

"Oh, my God just shut up," Keavy said with a laugh as she bit into her toast, "We didn't go that far I mean we- um. You know." Syvanna nodded but still smiled as she poked Keavy on the side.

"Good, otherwise I would have to kill you for being so stupid. Think about that next time when you so want him before you think of countermeasures."

Keavy rolled her eyes, "Yes mom~"

"Well someone has to think about these things. Might as well be the responsible one." Keavy only shook her head, "Hey I'm responsible! I just... Got caught up, that's all."

There was a quietness to Thistle as she relaxed against him and he kissed her softly, anywhere he could reach.  They may have been finished, but his hands didn't remain to himself, lightly fondling the girl upon him and reaching out to touch her as she walked by, once she'd gone to dress.  Poor Thistle felt like he hadn't had enough, and wasn't aware yet that he'd never have enough, but instead be always looking forward to their next encounter with a needy desire for her.  She tossed him his clothing, but he dressed slowly, watching her as she got dressed, stripping in reverse, as it were.  He just stared with this silly little smile upon his face.  She was so beautiful, she was the one thing he always wanted back in his life, and now she was.  "Thank you," he said towards her compliment, but added, "As much as I may enjoy that, you may find that levitation charm you just learned works well on short skirts and while the first years still have to speak, our entire class just learned how to do such silently." 

He walked her towards the Hufflepuff Common Room entrance, where he would climb up the long sets of stairs to find Ravenclaw Tower.  As she drew close to kiss him, he licked his tongue out along her lips, his hands caressing her soft bottom and offering it a little squeeze.  He was growing bolder and more confident now that they'd had a successful encounter.  "You're already in my dreams at night," and whisper added, "but now I'll know what your breasts feel like."  He smiled, winked at her, and headed up the stairs, though he stopped off in a bathroom to relieve himself of a certain tension in the privacy of a stall.

***Breakfast***

Thistle was exhausted, he'd had so much trouble sleeping the night before.  It felt like she'd awakened something within him that didn't want to be quenched and masturbation was not helping him as it should have.  He hadn't worked on his broom at all, but hopefully he'd get Frankenbroom back from Flitwick and it will have been both cleansed of the Confundus and any other ailments hexed upon it.  Flitwick was going to teach him to read the item later, to detect magic and dispel what was found.  If he became really good at it, he might even know who the caster was, but those tended to reply more on knowing the individual rather than the spell.

"You ok, Thist?"  Rowan was asking him, "You seem really out of it."  She was watching him with concern as he'd just taken a sip of the pancake syrup, rather than his pumpkin juice.  Clive relieved him of the syrup, looking at it suspiciously, but then ended up using it on his pancakes anyway.  Thistle was going the eggs, ham, and bacon route.

"Huh?"  He asked, licking his lips as they tasted so strange.  He hadn't even realized the syrup had been taken from him, and had picked up his juice to smell it, unsure if maybe it had gone bad.  A second sip and it seemed to be ok.  Maybe there had been syrup on the rim of his glass.

"Ok,"  Rowan's plate of waffles was completely untouched, she was watching him so intently, "Something is wrong with you, Thist.  I'm gonna take you to the infirmary."  She'd begun to rise, but then paused, watching him.  Thistle was waving to Keavy who'd just walked into the great hall.  He had a sheepish smile upon his face and his cerulean eyes were sparkling so much they were practically glowing.

"Oi, sit Rowan.  Eat your food,"  Billy said, laughing, "e's jus' been bit s'all.  By that bug.  Fuck, Row-Row.  An' here, I thought Thist was gay."  Billy was shoveling forkfulls of food into his face, and was surprisingly easier to understand.  More directly to Thistle, lowering his face and leaning over to get in his line of sight, "Study date go well, then?"

Thistle turned back to them after exchanging a smile with his girl, no idea what they were talking about.  "What?  Oh, yeah.  It went great!  She was able to do the Leviosa Charm without speaking before she went back to her dorms."  He couldn't go into detail, they had never discussed whether their decision to go together should be public knowledge, but it didn't matter anyway.  They all knew, just by watching him.  Gorgeous girl like her, and she very well may have been the hottest girl in the school, that new Hufflepuff girl.  For whatever reason, she liked Thistle.  He was in Man's heaven.

"Oh?  An' what was'it she made rise, ey?"  Billy had a smile on his face, but Thistle didn't catch the innuendo at first.

"Oh christ, Billy.  Thistle! Oi, mate!"  Clive was saying, "You need to snap out of it.  You need to do well at the try outs tonight if you want to remain Ravenclaw's Keeper, yeah?  I'm gonna make the team this year and it'll be shite if I get on and you don't."

Rowan looked torn, considering not making Thistle try out, but just try others against the Keeper she knew him to be, but there was no way around it.  "Thist'll make the team, Clive.  He always does.  If that broom gives him trouble, he'll be able to use a spare and go again, so no worries."  But she was worried too.  Even she would be up against other candidates for Seeker, Thistle needed to be on his game.  She picked at her waffles slowly, nervous about how tonight would go.

Thistle, on the other hand, was oblivious, sneaking glances at his sweetheart from where he worked his way through breakfast, once again not really paying attention to his house mates.  He had a free period before Herbology, and he planned to run over to Charms and grab his broom before he needed to be there.  Professor Longbottom never cared too much if they were late, but he wanted to do his best not to miss anything.  Herbology was not one of his stronger classes, unless the plant in question skirted the line of Magical Creatures, like with the Mandrake Roots.

Hoping to push her thoughts past on what had happened the night before, needing to focus on the class. And she came to a conclusion. That the first Transfiguration class of their sixth year had a teacher that she felt was intriguing. And, when she is referring to something as intrigued, then it's very obvious that the teacher himself in this case; is interesting.

The class is with a man called Vita Sanguini, and by how he looked; tall, lean, pale but the most prominent feature was his eyes. A deep smoky green that she was sure seemed... Ancient. Keavy couldn't explain it- the man looked as if he had held wisdom behind them. Snd she was told the man was going to educate his students if it's the last thing he does, and no one's really surprised by his attitude. He was passionate in his studies but very stern in what must be taught. Keeping them on track and never letting them stray too far from the task at hand.

He's really calm like Thistle...

Shut up brain!

Everyone's on time making Keavy actually surprised, most people who are in NEWT type of classes seem to take their time. Or was it because the students here in this school have respect for their professor?

When the class fell silent as the teacher appeared from his office, a wave of respect washes over Keavy. Realizing that the presence he has just seems to call for it. She found herself sitting up a little straighter, meeting Sanguini's eyes. And she swears she sees the faintest of gleams in the dark eyes in the front of the room, the tiniest twitch of the jaw, just a hint of a smile.

Keavy looked over at Syvanna beside her, giving the American a small smile, to try to pass on just a little bit of encouragement that Keavy had just found. It's five minutes before class is supposed to start, and Professor Sanguini finally clears his throat and steps forward.

"It seems that everyone is present," he says, and his voice is just as stern just as he looked. He continues. "Welcome," He says, his voice crisp, "to NEWT Transfiguration."

He proceeds to lay out the rules and guidelines regarding learning, homework, and behavior, and he finishes with, "If you do not abide strictly by these rules, I will be forced to give you a detention. Or maybe I'll just yell at you until I'm blue in the face because you're all crying children I don't know."

The class snickered, and giggled but never the less they replied happily with "Yes, Professor"s, and then he turns to the class, fixes them with his stare, and declares that he will now collect the summer homework.

Keavy found herself slightly panicking. Summer homework?! Since when?!

He goes around the classroom asking everyone to hand theirs to her, and when he gets to Syvanna and collects her essay, she looks almost on the verge of speech before pressing her lips tightly together again, and Keavy wonders what she wanted to say but just then he's moved on to Keavy.

"Miss MacDónaill," says Professor Sanguini sternly, and thankfully it wasn't loud since the classroom is talking, joking, and gossiping about their business as Keavy nodded, "Yes, Professor?"

"Do not worry, since you did just transfer here, but I do want you to be able to keep up. If you are having trouble- please let me know."

"Right Professor!" Keavy stated beaming as Professor Sanguini only smiled back, knocking on her desk gently as he went about to teaching the class, easing her mind a bit. Perhaps taking her mind off of the night before wouldn't be easy, but not impossible.

Thistle had wanted to spend more time with Keavy after breakfast, but he had to run to Flitwick's office for his broom and Syvanna was adamant that they needed to get to Transfigurations.  Until then, however, it was a large group of kids socializing.  It was nice, actually, all of his friends were getting to know her and she had Syvanna on her side, as well as a few lingering Hufflepuffs he didn't know the names of.  He had wanted to kiss her, so badly, to touch her again, but something in her face had him hold off.  He wasn't upset by it, she was too openly happy to be beside him, and secretly, down low where no one was looking, he let his pinky rub up against hers in a low-key affection to let her know just how much he had missed her.

"Well, at least Thist is acting more normal," Rowan said, "You should have seen how out of it he was at breakfast."

Thistle, who was much more aware of the moment, cocked his head to the side in a strangely dog-like look of confusion, which more than Keavy may have noticed.  "What?  I was just tired."  He explained, and actually, he looked it.  Something about his eyes and the occasional yawn that would break free.

"Did you make another broom last night?"  Clive had asked, but Billy smacked him in the back of the head.

"Naw, y'idiot.  'E was teachin' Keavy 'ow t'make things rise, r'member?"  He laughed as he said it, making sure the double entendre was clearly witnessed by his target audience of: Everyone.

Thistle choked as if he'd been drinking still, which he wasn't, but it was Rowan who reached over to smack Billy, "Don't be such an arse, Boggles."  There were a few others who had lingered around the group who were watching them with shocked faces, and Rowan snapped at them, "He was teaching her to do the non-verbal Leviosa Charm!  Don't believe everything you hear!"  Rowan may have been a little thrown by the idea of Thistle and Keavy together, but she was still nothing but nice to the new girl and truly seemed to want to be her friend.

Unfortunately, Syvanna chose that moment to drag Keavy off and Thistle remembered he had to run.

***Herbology***

His broom had been cleaned of any speck of dirt and cleared of hexes.  Flitwick had also taken the liberty of re-calibrating it and explained that, while the wood wasn't at fault, in now actually believed itself to be a single object and wasn't held together strictly by Glue Charms.  He made it clear that he was still impressed by the ingenuity, and was sure Thistle would be able to improve upon such tinkerings in the future.  Thistle, who had been running late after listening to the excited little man's explanations, had darted out of the room and leaped clear out the window!

Students from all over in the hallway gasped as they ran to see, realizing only after that He had been holding a broom and was now soaring down from the main building and towards the greenhouse.  He would make it to class, but if any staff had seen him, Ravenclaw was likely to have points deducted for his reckless behavior.

Longbottom was a nice professor.  He could be stern, but not really and fairly rarely.  Generally, he gave his students the benefit of the doubt and guided them with a gentle hand into the world of plants.

Holy fuck, was Thistle bored.  He was trying to figure out what the differences were between Wolfsbane and Monkshood, but the only plants he wanted to dwell upon were the fruits of Keavy's chest.  Still, he managed to buckle down and even learned something ahead of time for Ghoul Studies as it was mentioned that most stakes, for hunting Vampires, were made out of Ash, Aspen, or Yew.  It reminded him that he still needed to read that chapter before his next class, which wasn't tonight, but he was bound to have even more homework and he was realizing that he may have a problem focusing when Keavy was around.

Speaking of Keavy ... class was ending and they had Defense Against the Dark Arts next, together, and with that Potter fellow from the Ministry who would be teaching Apparitions.  Lupin would be there, that Hufflepuff kid who graduated last year, or the year before, but apparently, while training, he was given assistance by someone who Thistle had assumed had no teaching experience whatsoever.

"Nah, nah, mate," Rowan had explained as they were hurrying between classes, "Potter teaches Defense all the time, but never a whole year of it.  He usually just comes in for specific lectures.  Teddy should be teaching it on his own next year, but they're easing him into it.  He was friends with Longbottom when they went to Hogwarts.  Same house and class, Gryffindor.  Oh!  Check those Frogs Clive gave you.  I bet you got a Potter card in there.  World works fucking weird like that."

"He's on a Frog card?"  Thistle looked skeptical, but Rowan just laughed.

"Take a Hogwarts history class, Yankee Doodle." This from Clive, who'd made the joke about it before, "He was 'The Boy Who Lived.' Remember?"

They were approaching the room, when Thistle saw Keavy approaching from the other side.  Stupid Kool-Aid smile was suddenly plastered across his face.

"Billy was right, Row-Row," Clive commented to Rowan. "Bug bit him bad."

She only shook her head, "Think about it, Clive.  All the conversations she's come up in?  He's always been in love with her."  She looked over at Thistle and shook her head, but she was smiling, "The idiot just didn't realize it.  Dumbest.  Ravenclaw.  Ever."

Before Thistle could greet Keavy, Rowan grabbed him by the back of the robes and yanked him into the class.  Clive, who was only a 5th year, kept on going.  "C'mon, Romeo."  She commented offhand as she manhandled Thistle down a few steps, keeping him off balance and then shoving him into a chair with a smirk.  She yanked his broom from his stunned hand and laid it down over the next two desks beside him on the Hufflepuff side, now officially reserved for Keavy and Syvanna, by schoolyard rules of 'dibs.'  Rowan took her seat beside Thistle, on the other side of him, and left her bag in the next one over, keeping it reserved for one of the other Ravenclaws, though offhand, Thistle couldn't figure out who.  She looked pretty smug as she said, "I even saved a seat for her, but if I let you two meet up out in the hallway, you'll end up late for a class you're standing right in front of."

As the two Hufflepuffs walked into the warm and welcoming class, she noticed the broom reserved seats on their side. A mixture of curiosity, amusement, and puzzlement spread on Keavy's features before Syvanna gently picked up Thistle's broom and gave it back to him. "I take it that you and Rowan saved us seats?"

Rowan smirked back as she shrugged, "Well, made sense, the class does fill up quickly when we have a famous person for a professor and fellow old student too."

Syvanna nodded in agreement, "Ah yes, I can't wait to see what Teddy is going to teach us. Although, I partly wonder how the Headmistress was able to convince him to take the supposed legendary 'cursed' position." Stated the blond Hufflepuff with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Rowan, on the other hand, could only shake her head with a knowing smirk. Legendary curse or not, everyone knew how much Teddy wanted to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts.

Keavy took her seat next to Thistle, looking over at him as she leaned over and whispered, "Hey, having a good morning?"

"Good? You should have seen him earlier this morning. I was told by a few third years that Thistle jumped out the window and flew on this broom! It's actually working, I am so pumped to see Thistle's Frankenbroom in action during tryouts tonight! It's going to be bloody fantastic!" Rowan stated with a grin giving Thistle a pat on his back making Keavy and Syvanna both surprised.

"Wait, seriously? How?" Keavy asked half in worry and the other half in interest of the story from the main source himself.

But before anyone could say, Keavy then noticed the young man before them in front of the classroom. "Good Morning, everyone, he greeted them, smiling. He appeared to be in his late teens, early twenties and had short curled brown hair. Most of the students had knowing grins when he spoke, whereas Keavy simply gave a small friendly smile in greeting.

"My name is Teddy Lupin," he continued warmly, walking around to stand in front of the desk at the front of the room, " but you can call me Professor Lupin. Seeing as how you are all bright individuals, I'm sure that by now you noticed that I am quite a few years younger than the rest of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers you've had."

Keavy looked over at Thistle, not sure just what he meant by that but she gave a small shrug, maybe the students were so used to having old teachers. The kind with monotone voices that bored them to death or some that just weren't as interesting as Teddy Lupin was turning out to be.

Thistle accepted his broom back graciously, cast a Reducio Charm on it that shrank it down to the size of a pen, and slipped it into his robes for later.  Magic certainly made life easier.  As everyone was so chatty, he just smiled a greeting to Keavy as she sat beside him, excited for class to begin.  If there was any class he enjoyed as much as Creatures, this was it.  It was a lot more theory than practice, which sort of blew, but he kept hoping for something more like when they'd learned the Riddikulus Charm as third years.  That had been fun.

"Ain't cursed anymore, Chicachi."  Taliesin MacManus was walking over calm as could be.  He nodded to those who greeted him, but then he was still talking to Syvanna, "Not since Professor Potter defeated You-Know-Who.  People just don't want it now.  Superstitious. Teddy does though, so maybe it'll change, but way back when, no one lasted more than a year because, You-Know-Who was denied the position."

"I saved you a seat, Tali."  Rowan beamed up at him and Thistle would have stated her eyes seemed more sparkly than normal, if he wasn't so busy trying to reply to Keavy, but no one seemed to want him to speak today.  As Tali got comfortable, Rowan mentioned the underclassmen who'd run up to talk to Thistle about his earlier actions.  He lifted a hand to rub the back of his head, laughing sheepishly as it appeared he was showing off, even though he wasn't the one talking.

He would have explained how, but then Teddy walked in and introduced himself to the class.  He'd just have to wait to speak until later.  Then a man in his 30's with straight, black hair and round glasses stepped out of the office and into the classroom.  "Which is why I will be here, along for the ride this year.  Most of you know me, and all of you know Teddy, but I want to stress to you, please, remember it's Professor Lupin and Professor Potter.  McGonagall may not be able to take points from us anymore,"  He said with a smile that broke into a chuckle when he rubbed the back of his head and added, "But she's still not someone I want to cross."

Instead of Teddy speaking, Potter continued talking.  "Generally, Professor Lupin will run the class, but I'd like to take the reins for the moment.  Just for this first week.  Firstly,"  He motioned to Taliesin, who was watching him close enough that no one, except Keavy and Thistle who could see it clearly, would have noticed Tali and Rowan had their closest legs pressed together between the desks.  Thistle wondered if this was something new, or if it had developed over the summer.  He had spent time at both houses during the break, not for long, but neither of them had mentioned it.  "Superstitions, you mentioned, in the same breath you said, 'You-Know-Who?'  The first rule to fighting dark wizards that you need to know is to not give them anymore power than they already have.  Or in this case, had.  But regardless, call him Voldemort.  Don't be superstitious, yourself."  He grinned, finding humor in this moment for instruction.

"But secondly, I've been going over the courses and there's been much too much theory involved and not nearly enough practical application."  He was walking around the front of the room, eyes flitting from pupil to pupil, while Teddy lounged behind him smiling, resting back against the front of his desk.  "If you leave here and run into a dark wizard, are you going to fight with theory?  No.  The most important weapon you have, will be knowledge and practice, but to apply it requires one, key element."

He drew his wand out of his blazer, holding it out so everyone could see it.  "Holly, 11 inches long, with a phoenix feather at its core.  Very similar to my first wand, this one, and, to we have a close relationship.  I practice, and practice, to bond with my wand.  Being an Auror, I need to be ready at a moment's notice, and sure of my spellwork.  But anyone could need to react without any time to think.  How well do you know your wand?  How well do you trust it?  The first step in this is knowing your wand's strengths and weaknesses.  So, as if this were a first day with a new group, we're going to introduce ourselves around the room.  But, not as people, tell me about your wand and show me a simple charm you're quite confident with.  I want you to pay attention to the difference between the woods, but also the ... feel, of the spell produced.  Anyone who can tell me about their wand wood and core, what's special about it, doesn't have any homework this week.  Anyone who can't, well, you need to be able to tell me about it next class."

And with that, students began to stand and present their wands, various woods with various personalities.  He hadn't asked about cores, as there were really only three of them, but the first person with each core did make mention of it.

When it got to Thistle, he lifted his wand and said clearly, "Swamp Mayhaw, 13 and 1/3 inches long, with ..." But he didn't get to finish as Professor Potter suddenly spoke.

"Rougarou hair.  Where did you get this wand?"  He didn't sound like a teacher anymore, but ... more like a police officer.  Or an Auror.  "How does a wand like this come into the hands of a 16 year old?"

Teddy had leaned forward, touching Professor Potter's arm gently, "That is Thistle Dunwich, from America.  He received his wand straight from Ilvermorny when you enrolled, didn't you, Thist?"

But Potter was shaking his head.  "No, no, no, there was only ONE wand maker in America who made these and she's long gone.  They discovered what she was using in her wands, wands which take to Dark Magic the way a vampire takes to blood.  Ilvermorny destroyed the remaining stock."

Finally, Thistle had had enough of being talked over.  "Yes, Professor, they had.  But, when asked to feel for a suitable wand, I found this one hidden in the back and was allowed to keep it as it's chosen me.  They had forgotten about a back crawlspace off the office, found quite a few old wands from ... I don't know.  Think they said a hundred years back."

Professor Potter was going to continue, but Thistle was retrieving his broom from within his robes.  Showing off again, Thistle?  As if to prove a point about how close he and his wand already were, he performed the Engorgio Charm on his broom, silently.  They'd only done the Leviosa so far, but sure enough, his broom swelled to full size and Thistle began to explain the parts he'd placed together and the weaves of different charms used in making it.  "And all with this wand."  He settled back, looking as though he'd taken offense to an insult against his wand.  "And you had asked about the 'feel?'  I'd think a better word for evaluating the spells would be their 'scent.'  The various charms smell different, and smell seems to be different based on the wand used as well."  He seemed to think this was normal, that he was helping.

Rowan leaned over and whispered, "You smell magic, Thist?" with a quirked brow, but Potter wasn't done yet.

Professor Potter watched him curiously for a second, lost in thought or reading something about the 6th year Ravenclaw who was so proud of his Frankenbroom.  Finally, he said, not unkindly, but determined.  "This weekend.  Go to Hogsmeade, go to Ollivander's, and please, request a new wand.  Then, destroy that one, before someone else uses it."  He began to turn to look at Keavy, but his eyes lingered on Thistle.  Before Keavy got a chance to speak he added, to the room, "Even a dark wand can be used for good, but general consensus is there is something ... wrong, with Violetta Beauvais' wands.  I know, many famous people have used them in American History, but ... Better safe than sorry."  Then, as an aside to Thistle, "And it isn't JUST rougarou hair.  She tipped many of her cores with a werewolf's claw or a vampire's fang.  It is hard to know what a Swamp Mayhaw has within it for this reason, but ... Multicore wands are excellent for parallel casting, like you did with your ingenious weave."  He nodded towards the full sized broom Thistle was still holding.  "Leading me to believe you may have one of these multicore wands.  But again, please, consider my suggestion and exercise caution."

And with that, he turned to look upon Keavy and said, pleasantly, "And your wand, Miss ... ?"  He wouldn't know Thistle's mom by a No-Maj's surname, but he would know Keavy's parents.  Chances were good, he would be speaking to them later about the Dunwich boy she seemed to be close to.

Keavy sat there as she heard what Professor Potter said about Thistle's wand, her anger rising. So what if the wood was made in their home country! Just because it was made with a werewolf claw or a vampire's fang, doesn't make it any less evil. Hell, a dragon heartstring or even that so-called Elder's Wand that Professor Potter had at one point could make wizards do dark magic! It's the wizard, not the wand cores!

Keavy could tell that the class was on the edge of their seats. After hearing a near backlashing from Professor Potter with Thistle's wand, most wondered how he would like the new student's American wand. Would it be the same as Thistle's? Is he going to go off on her just as before? Well, she was going to sadly disappoint many of the students today.

Her hands fisted as she forced a smile up at Professor Potter, slowly standing up. She even noticed that Professor Lupin was turning his attention to her as well. When asked about her wand she cleared her throat, mocking the professionalism. "My wand is a Redwood, 12 and 3/4 of an inch long with a Dragonheart String, a Norwegian Richback to be exact. Its flexibility is slightly yielding. From my early memories, Redwoods are in short supply thus have a good reputation to bring good fortune to the owner. redwood wands are not themselves lucky but are strongly attracted to witches and wizards who already possess the admirable ability to fall on their feet, to make the right choice, to snatch advantage from catastrophe."


"Do you believe that you had been given good fortune?" Professor Lupin asked with genuine interest as he tilted his head slightly. When he had checked his roster this morning and noticed the last name of MacDónaill, he knew that his Godfather would be interested in the student, what he didn't expect was the girl to be so well versed in her wand.

"Truth be told Professor," Keavy looked up at him in the eyes, "I did meet Thistle and he is very good at Charms which I am not. Also, he was an excellent duelist back at our school."

But before Professor Lupin or Potter could go on, she then finished, "Which brings us to the wand cores yes? Mine, as I stated, was a Norwegian Richback Dragon Heartstring. As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and if we are to all remember what Ollivander said- which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Yes? Oh but wait what else did he say? Oh, right- Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental."

The class fell deadly silent, making Professor Lupin rather nervous as to just what Potter might say, but still, brave little Keavy finished her introduction. "You may go on about Wand Cores and how dangerous they are Professor Potter, but I do think that it's the Wizard or Witch who holds the wand rather than the cord itself. After all- I go by what my grandmother saying: I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them."

Professor Potter watched and listened as Keavy did her polite rant, looking proud of her few moments upon the soapbox.  He didn't say anything immediately, just stood there, looking contemplative.  His eyes, behind those round glasses, held a faraway look and his mouth curved into the faintest of smiles.  "You remind me of someone."  He finally stated, after a few moments.  "And of course, she would have been correct too.  It is ultimately the wizard, not the wand, who has control of the relationship, but the wand chooses the wizard, not the other way around, and the wand will have it's reasons."

Thistles fingertips, feather-light, fell upon Keavy's forearm, and he said, softly, "Sit, Keavy."  His face held a warm smile below reddened cheeks as she had embarrassed him with her loyalty, but in a good way.  "Thank you," he softly added, "that was sweet."  His fingers touched her hand, tips gentle against the side of it, against her own.  Not holding her hand, but just a light brush.

Tali, who had spoken already about his own wand, stood again then, "Professor?"  He paused, waiting for both pairs of eyes to fall upon him before he continued, "Couldn't it be a different reason?"  He looked like he was going to say more, but when he faltered, Rowan stood beside him, reaching out to touch his arm in a similar manner to how Thistle had with Keavy.

"Thistle is a good person, loyal and kind."  Rowan began.  It seemed as though Keavy had incited a revolution.  "He'd stand up for any one of his friends without a moment's thought.  We're his family, and have been for the last four years and,"  But Professor Potter raised his hands defensively, palms out.

"Ok, ok.  I believe I owe you all an apology for derailing the class.  Ironically, as I'd cautioned against superstitious thoughts, apparently, I may have some of my own.  Yes, most wands aren't sentient, and I have no reason to believe this one is.  It very well could have chosen Mr. Dunwich for a completely different reason than a proclivity for Dark Magic.  Hell, maybe he's just a dog person."  The whole class laughed at that one.  "As I said, my wand is Holly, and Holly is also known for choosing wizards who have a problem with impetuosity."  A larger laugh from the class, and even one from Professor Potter, as he looked sheepish and said, "Acting without thinking can be useful in the field, but in the classroom, not so much.  Again, I apologize for any offense.  Thistle, was it?  I am not going to penalize you if you choose to stick with this wand, so don't worry about that."  Everyone in the room heard the unspoken, 'but ...'  He obviously still felt Thistle should at least check, perhaps have his wand evaluated.

Thistle, who had taken a moment to run his hand over Keavy's thigh in a comforting stroke while no one was watching them, was already facing forward again, hands on his desk.  If he could have left his hand on her leg, he would have.  He had intended it to be comforting for her, but found it was soothing for himself as well.  Much like how, for the rest of the night prior, he could still feel her lips and tongue against his hours after, he could still feel her leg beneath his fingertips.  "Thank you, sir."  He answered, though left it at that.  He was, however, turning his wand in his hand and looking down on it, obviously considering his wand with a deeper thought than previous.

"And really," Potter added quickly, "any one of you could benefit from such a trip.  It's not always likely, but you never know.  Though, if you are in possession of a hand-me-down wand, and can afford one, I suggest finding one more attuned to you specifically."  And with that, his eyes roamed the group until falling on Syvanna.  "And continuing on ..."  The rest of the class was specifically on wands, discussion of woods and cores, and the debate over multiple wands vs. staying with one."

"If you win a wand in a duel, you would have multiple wands." "One will always still function better for you, though perhaps not the one you began with."  "Can multiple wands choose you in stores?"  "My brother got a new wand when he graduated and began working.  It chose him, worked better, but he didn't need two wands.  My wand used to be his."  "What if one wand was better with healing charms and the other worked better with duels?  Wouldn't you keep both on you?"  "Generally no, most wizards stick with their favored wand, even after a duel."  "What about if you are disarmed?  A spare would help!"  And so on and so forth, the class becoming a conversation that grew like a living creature, but didn't always provide satisfactory answers.  It seemed much was simply 'How it's always been,' or 'Perhaps Ollivander himself would know?'  Thistle wasn't as much a part of the discussion, but he was listening and following along, though his eyes were almost always on Keavy, rather than the speakers.

The warm comfort feeling from Thistle's finger tips brought some level of ease in Keavy's anger. But she still didn't sit down until he asked her to; not that she didn't want to anyhow, nor did she care that she didn't show either Professor a single spell. What would be the point? Part of her felt she had taken her words too far on Professor Potter, but the other part she felt justified in defending Thistle's side. Perhaps, she should have thought a bit more carefully on her words and at least been a bit more polite to a man who is not only a teacher but, someone highly respected in her father's field of work on top of that.

Either way, Keavy cannot take back what she said- nor will she want to. It did give the students some courage to give their voice of concern as to how Professor Potter jumped on Thistle's Wand and even made him apologize for it. Much to Keavy's satisfaction at this result then felt a tingle from her thigh; Thistle's hand. His hand was giving her a soft rub that made her smile, partly wishing it would go higher and higher. But no sooner than she had those thoughts she pushed it to the back of her mind. Knowing such... Playful thoughts would only cloud her mind from the lesson.

She looked back over at Thistle with a smile, her leg bumping his a bit as if to test him a little before she placed her attention back to the Professors. It seemed Lupin then took over once introductions finished with everyone. "With what Professor Potter was talking about knowing your wand, we are going to do a little bit of- well classroom participation. First, we're gonna team you up with a partner. Then, you're gonna switch wands."

The class began to talk in excited tones mixed with worry. Most if not all the students had never used another person's wand! But it did tie into their previous questions being put into practice. Professor Lupin had quieted down the class as he went around the room, teaming up the students and putting each pair facing the other at a short distance.

"All right, I want you to feel their wand, actually try to. Do you trust it? Does it remind you of it's owner? Do you feel capable of using the other's wand?" Professor Lupin questioned as he walked around, watching the students look down at their partner's wands. Keavy, having paired up with Thistle, held his wand- the Swamp Mayhaw, the one with Rougarou hair. At first, the crooked stick felt like any other wand. There was nothing special about it. Her mind flashed to the first day that she met Thistle.

Keavy refused to look up as she walked in the Court Yard of Ilvermorny, clutching her potion book tightly to her chest. She just wanted to get by without being noticed by anyone or hearing the words Erin.

"Well- well where do you think you're going? Without saying hello?" A large boy drawled out just as she thought she was free and clear. Keavy's heart sank to the bottom of her belly as she felt the same clenching dread that preceded the bully's insults. Before she could respond he came forward and tugged a strand of her soft red hair that has escaped from the haphazard bun atop of her head, making her grimace in pain.

"Ouch! Stop it!"

"Honestly Erin, Erin-go-braless if you spent half the time with grooming than stuck your head in books you wouldn't be a half bad hag!" he said in a nasty voice.

"Hey shut up! Why don't you leave her alone and go insult someone else? Like look in a mirror and insult that?"

She fingered the wand, examining its every curve when she then felt it. Warm. Fuzzy. Like fur. Yet, she felt more than that- It was soft too. She looked up at Thistle, her eyes wide, Keavy didn't know how to voice her partner on how she felt it. But she had to try, "Your wand, I can feel strength from it. Like I should be afraid of such animalistic dominance, yet, I'm not. I feel so safe, like home. Protected. It's almost like I belong."

Thistle stood there, holding Keavy's wand and facing her, while around the room, all of the desks had been shoved aside so students could stand paired up and ready.  He smiled as he heard her reply, thinking that it sounded like him.  Dangerous, and in protectively love with Keavy.  In reality, he probably wasn't nearly as dangerous as the creatures that made up the wand he'd used for the last 6 years, but a 16 year old's sense of self worth usually ran in that direction.  Keavy may have thought he was adorable, but he liked dangerous better.

He hadn't felt anything yet, not at first, but he began to notice there was a cool breeze and a woodsy scent of ancient forests as the wand acknowledged him.  No, not like a wielder, but like a ... like a friend of a friend.  Charms were being shouted all around the room, but in general, most of the students were unable to make anything happen with their companion's wand.  It made sense, the wands had grown attached to their wizards and witches, but he had expected more.

"The difficulty you are experiencing,"  Professor Lupin began, walking among his old classmates, "Stems from the fact that you haven't earned the wand's respect.  You haven't won it, in a duel.  A wand that has a partner, requires the stranger to prove themselves worth.  Generally.  If you lose your wand in a fight, you can't just snatch up any old wand off the ground and be sure of victory.  Oh, you could wish for the best ..."  Just then, Tali attempted a Levitation Charm with Rowan's wand.  Three desks shot up into the ceiling like rockets, shattering on impact and crashing down into the floor.  "But ... as you can see, even best case scenarios can be more dangerous to you than to the intended target.  How about some gentler magics from now on, yes?"

"Lumos," Thistle whispered and the tip of Keavy's wand began to glow a soft, emerald green.  It hovered there, and then drifted slightly from the end, like a will-o-wisp dancing through the air.  Thistle, having used the wand, could have sworn her her childlike laughter and the sounds of distant music, "Your wand is as beautiful as you are."  He commented softly, and a few neighboring students giggled at his awe-sounding admission.  "It feels like ... like fae folk having a celebration in a woodland glen somewhere.  Nox"  The light dimmed and went out.

"Those are very specific descriptions."  Lupin was commenting, "More than most should have received.  We're looking for, a feeling of light, darkness, sun, rain, simple energy from the wand that reminds you of something."  To Keavy, he commented, "Have you been able to use the wand?  If Thistle had, and you can, it is possible your wands are recognizing the bond you both share."  Thistle had approached Keavy, intending on giving her her wand back, but at Professor Lupin's words, he stopped to let her try and cast something.

Keavy looked over at Professor Lupin, hearing his comment making her blush as she looked down at Thistle's wand, "I can't help but describe what I feel." Looking back at the Professor when she was told about being able to do a spell since Thistle was able to do so on her wand. Her mind going back to the previous night as her lower lip slightly curled. Perhaps their wands knew that they had more of a bond that was beyond than just mere friendship? "Well, let's see if Thistle's wand trusts me," Keavy stated with a smile, turning to Thistle his wand pointed right at him in her hand as she swished and flicked fluently. "Incarcerous."

The binding that flowed out of his wand was sweeping around him, able to bind him as the class laughed, even Professor Lupin had to give a small chuckle at the sight of Thistle being bound around his arms and legs. "Interesting choice of spell Keavy. Why did you pick that one?"

"It's used a lot for when we help my mom out with the Hippogriffs that she fostered for Hagrid back when I was a child. Although we were taught to do so lightly. Like you see here in my example. Plus, I think this wand remembers too."

Lupin nodded, looking over at his godfather with a smile. Watching him tend to other students before returning his attention back to Thistle and Keavy. "I take it that you two know each other very well?"

"Yes. Oh! Sorry, Thistle. Relashio," Keavy released Thistle from his magical binding, giving her dear friend a giggle as he handed him his wand back. "We've been best friends since our first years in  Ilvermorny."

Thistle was laughing as he rubbed his wrists where the bindings had been a bit of a surprise, rolling his shoulders and moving his body, now that he wasn't wound up with magical ribbon.  "Yeah, but we haven't seen each other since I left, four years ago, so we're reacquainting ourselves."  He didn't have to say just how thrilled he was to have Keavy back in his life.  It was written all over his face.  He held her wand out towards her, a single eyebrow lifted in silent question as he waited for her to take it and give him his own back.

When he looked up throughout the rest of the class, he kept finding people staring at him and it made him uncomfortable.  Potter, Lupin, other students, all for different reasons, but still, all watching him, or him and Keavy.  He stood a little closer to Keavy, unintentionally, but most wouldn't have noticed or would have thought the reason more illicit.  As the class wound down, the desks were put back to rights, the broken ones mended using the Reparo Charm, and the students began to collect up their things.

"No Homework for the whole week!"  Rowan was practically jumping up and down with excitement.  "Isn't that fantastic?!"  Tali, who was standing beside her, was beaming at her enthusiasm.

"Yes," he began, "But then, the other classes make up for it, don't they.  Especially Transfigurations.  New guy is kind of a ... well, a pompous jerk."

"Yeah!"  Thistle suddenly added, "I thought so too, but did you notice how uncharacteristically enraptured the rest of the class was?  Fucking weird.  I'm going to fight through it, but it's going to be a long class."

"Oh, come on now, boys."  Rowan was nudging Keavy conspiratorially, "I know you both think the new Runes Witch is gorgeous.  Let us enjoy the Transfigurations teacher."

Tali shrugged, "I don't take Ancient Runes.  No amount of sexy is going to help that boring ass subject.  Thistle only took it for the teacher."

"Pffft!"  Thistle blew him off, but laughed, "I had no idea who was teaching Runes before class began, and besides.  I'm spoken for."

"I FUCKIN' KNEW IT!"  Rowan hissed out in a whispered shout, "I fuckin' knew it!  Levitating feathers my arse, Dunwich!"  She was laughing as she said it, and beamed a smile at Keavy.  "You two deserve each other, that's great.  And if you break his heart, I'll ... well, you know."  They were moving out in a group, and she took hold of Tali's hand in hers as she began walking towards the Great Hall.  Looked like they were spoken for as well.

Thistle leaned against Keavy as they walked, very much like how her leg had leaned against him in class.  He let her and Syvanna talk, but when their conversation lulled, he spoke softly to Keavy.  "So ... After lunch I have like three hours downtime before ..."  He pulled out his schedule, it wasn't like him to forget a class.  "Oh.  Uhhh Interpersonal Relations ... Whatever that is.  We've never had this class before.  With Hufflepuff, so at least we'll be in it together."  He shrugged, stashing his schedule in the cover of a textbook.  "Was going to get some studying in before then, but was wondering what you had this afternoon?" 

Choir he wouldn't be able to watch, but if she did have Quidditch practice, he could study in the stands.  It was hard to know, this first week, which classes weren't active yet.  "Oh!  And you had said you got Seeker?  That is great, by the way.  I meant to say Congratulations to you for that, before." 

Keavy couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Sanguini being enraptured, "I just enjoy his lessons! I mean come on, so he's... wise looking." Keavy said as she brushed back some hair off of her face, trying her best to hide the smile that was shown on her face. Giggling all the more when Rowan nudged her on the side. "Sorry boy's but she does have a point. Although- I am looking forward to my Alchemy class tonight. Professor Frixell should be another interesting teacher to have too. She's learned under Famell!"

When Thistle had stated that he was spoken for Rowan as expectedly of what Keavy thought she would react, not only congratulated but told her that if he had ever broken his heart, making Keavy shake her head. That was not in her plan or in the future. Syvanna however, smiled as she cleared her throat, "As Rowan has stated, I too am happy for the both of you, but remember what I have said girly."

Keavy nodded, giving Syvanna a wave as she watched her friend walk off to the Library knowing she needed to pick up something before lunch. Hearing Thistle talk quietly she felt her cheeks redden slightly. "I do have Frog Choir but that's not til three. But that does leave us with two? Gryffindor screwed us over for practice and Sterk isn't happy at all. So, hide me?" She smiled softly leaning over to give him a soft kiss as she whispered, "Thanks. It was a tough call but I can't wait to see us on the field again."

_+_+_+_+_
Lunch was light for her, a simple juice and some soup as she talked to Syvanna about the morning's classes. "I still can't believe you did that Keavy," Syvanna stated with a small stern in her voice as she read through her book on wand lore from Ollivander. "You could have been sent to the Headmistress for that kind of disrespect."

"What do you mean? He was suspecting Thistle of being a damn dark wizard for fuck's sake Syvanna. How could I not say anything?"

Syvanna turned a page before placing a finger over it and closed her book gently. Looking at her friend, "Look, I don't know how American wizarding schools work but here, there's a way to talk to Professors and the way you did it was not the way. I'm just saying, there's being right and then there's being right but being respectful too."

Keavy sighed, "I guess, but you gotta admit, I think I started the second revolutionary."

Syvanna only shook her head but smiled. "Of course, leave it to the American. Next thing you know you're dumping tea into Black Lake. At least the merpeople will have something to drink."

"Cheerio." Keavy stated, earning a small hit on the top of her head with Syvanna's book.

_+_+_+_
"Thistle, where are we going? I mean, if we can't go to Hagrid's office then where?" She seemed to be walking with Thistle for nearly ten minutes on the same floor. Although most of the time was spent talking to him about the morning's classes she still couldn't help but wonder just where they could go.

Thistle didn't see it.  Sanguini looked like a mummy to him, without the wrappings, who wouldn't, or couldn't, stop wandering around acting like he was a pharoah surrounded by slaves.  Or slaves with Downs.  No, slaves with leprosy.  He didn't argue though, as it had been pointed out already that the Runic Witch was quite pleasing to the eye, so who was he to ... no, wait, he was spoken for and clearly uninterested in the Runes teacher.  Still, he didn't press it.  He was rewarded with things to be hopeful four, namely, hours with no where to be.

"Sterk is always unhappy about something."  He grumbled.  "Just wait until he finds out about us."  He hadn't meant to say it, and wished he hadn't afterwards, closing his eyes for a moment to mentally curse himself for being so obviously jealous.  "I will, of course, always be glad to hide you."  He added, attempting to move on.

*****************************

Lunch passed uneventfully, but easier than it had been.  He and Keavy traded secret glances and smiles, but Thistle was much more in the moment now, feeling better about them now that they had agreed to be an item.  It was funny, he never would have thought himself one for labels.  He hated labels in general as the minute you identify something as one thing, it becomes harder to see it as anything else.  Still, something about thinking of Keavy as his girlfriend put his heart at ease, even as it caused it to flutter.

Mostly, plans for the try outs were discussed, Rowan reiterating that EVERYONE had to try out, even herself, and that Professor Flitwick, the Grey Lady, and Headmistress McGonagall would all be assisting to keep things fair.

"T'ain't fair," commented Billy.  "Grey Lady' sin love wit' Thistle."

"Don't be a twat, Billy."  Rowan cut him off from continuing.  "Thistle's taken, and the Grey Lady seems to like Keavy."

The entire table got silent.  Thistle, who had been swallowing a spoonful of soup, suddenly looked up and around the table to the sound of crickets.  All they were missing were a couple of tumbleweeds.  "What?"  He said, defensively, looking around.  "Really?  Guys, I've talked about her almost constantly for three years."

"Thankfully not,"  Rowan said with a nudge, "Or you'd have no friends and be known as the guy with the imaginary girlfriend.  But," and she directed her words around the group of them, "Some of you don't know him that well, being from different years, but trust us, his friends.  Keavy is not a new facet to that which is Thistle."

"Maybe not," Cerridwen FitzLochlan spoke up, she was a 3rd year, and Tamlin's little sister.  Long locks of spun gold were back in intricate braids into a ponytail, tendrils framing a young face, pale, freckled, and skeptical. "But, I feel bad for her.  New school, new place, and she's locked into a relationship, with Thistle, from day one?  She'll be known as 'Thistle's Girlfriend.'" 

"So then don't call her that, Cerri."  Tamlin chided her, "Call her Keavy, and let it go.  All of you.  No one talks about this, around the school, do you understand me?  They can go public with it when they choose to."

"Ooooh shite, Thistle,"  Rowan swore, "I just realized I spilled the fuckin' beans on that one.  I'm sorry."  She patted his shoulder, but he shook his head.

"Don't be,"  Thistle frowned, "We're not hiding it, we're just not advertising it.  People will figure it out eventually."  The group got quiet for a few moments, no one saying anything at all, until...

"Well,"  Tali beamed a smile, "Rowan agreed to go out with me.  Maybe we can double up sometime."

"Yeah, Tali," Clive was laughing, "but we all saw that coming from last year.  Took you guys long enough, if you ask me."

Thistle blinked, looking around, "Well, I didn't know."  And everyone burst out into laughter.

*****************************

"We're just heading up to the Owl's roost through these doors over here,"  Thistle commented loudly to answer her question, as there were other students passing by.  He threw an arm around her, low, saying his hand was on her hip would have been misleading, but then, in her robes, not many would realize he'd found where the curve of her ass begun, hidden by the clothing.  He whispered softly, "With Hagrid's Office in an area that's too populated during the day, we need another place to study."  Hahaha, sure.  Study.  "Just focus, really hard, on what you want.  A private place to be alone, where we wont get caught."

Not only was there suddenly a door against the far wall, that Keavy was sure hadn't been there before, but she would have been fairly certain she watched it appear.  "There it is."  He said, sounding pleased with the results of her wishing.  "This door has our name written all over it.  This should be the Room of Requirement.  Go ahead, open it."  And he explained what little he knew about it as they approached the doorway.

Keavy felt unsure just what he meant by focusing on what she wanted. "A private place? Heh, please what you think if I thought of my bedroom it's just suddenly going to appear?"

As if on her proclamation, she watched before her eyes; further down the hall on the far side of the wall a door had suddenly appear. Thistle, however, was unfazed at the shift that had taken place before them making Keavy even more unsure as to what was going on. "Room of Requirement? Thistle? Just what did you do? Like, I know schools have their own little magic mechanics and all that but this is a bit freaky even by my standards." She stood silently by Thistle for a few moments, not wanting to go near the door. Curiosity ate at her fear until eventually, she found herself before the door taking the cold handle and opened the door.

When she walked in she felt her shock grew into surprise and mix into stunned. The room was... Hers. Not just hers but her bedroom specifically. Well- the pieces of the furniture. The elegant silver, green, and cream colors danced in the room as she found her bed on the left side of the room, just as she had left it when she came to Hogwarts. Made neatly with several pillows piled neatly and tucked under the heavy cover. At the end of her bed, she could see her small loveseat with smaller pillows that matched her covers elegantly.

The floors and walls had the same stone touch of Hogwarts with its large hearth burning bright to keep the rooms warm. She stepped in carefully, looking around as her hands robotically took off her robe, tossing it over a green seat that she had close to her vanity on the right side of the room. "Thistle, how? This is amazing!"

She slipped off her shoes, dashing over and with a giggle lunged into her bed as she hugged her pillow, laying on her stomach. "Hmm, just like home. Oh! Right, I should read some of the other wand lore just for future reference. As much as I didn't like how Professor Potter treated you this morning." She stated, raising herself up on her hands and knee's looking over her shoulder to Thistle. "It's just not right that he said that about your wand."

"Looks like Hogwarts is having a bit of fun with you," Thistle commented with a grin as she mentioned it actually BEING her bedroom, just as she'd joked.  He followed her into the room slowly, letting his eyes follow her movements until she was on her bed and snuggling her pillow.  Then he turned to look around, making sure the door was closed.  "It's a room that becomes whatever you need it to be, but it's supposed to be only when the need is great.  Honestly, I didn't even think it would work."  He chuckled softly, "Oh," he paused and looked towards her, "Are you homesick at all?  Perhaps that is it.  No, no, I think this is one of those little quirks that convinces me Hogwarts itself is, at least somewhat, semi-sentient."

He removed his shoes by the door, dropped his messenger bag beside it.  A pair of books were all he held as he moved to join her by the bed.  He almost made it, too.  "Looks like the alarm clock is correct, at least, that should hel ..."  The power cord was comical, plugged into the stone as it was, but it wasn't why he'd just suddenly stopped talking.  Keavy had just raised up on her hands and knees, turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, and Thistle's brain went south, quickly.  He opened his mouth to reply, but words failed him as he stared at her there, skirt-barely-covered ass up towards him.  His books had bounced once upon striking the floor.  His eyes closed as he told himself to focus, deep breath in, deep breath out.  "Potter, yeah."  He said, regaining his place in the conversation. 

"I don't think I blame him."  He sat on the end of her bed, facing her on display for him, though most likely unintentional.  His hands rested upon her calves, and while he was doing an admirable job of making eye contact, he was clearly enjoying his current view.  "Over the summer, I was privy to lots of street talk down on Diagon and Knockturn Alleys.  There has been a significant increase in dark magic users recently and the Aurors are finding themselves overworked and without a source for the change.  Strange wands, tomes, objects, they're all being watched closely."  His fingers moved slowly, stroking her skin softly, but insistently, traveling up the backs of her thighs.

He had such strong hands, slightly calloused tips moving, but with a sure grip, as he experienced the moment as long as she didn't move.  His hands, slowly crept higher and higher towards where the skirt hung like a presenting curtain ready to be whipped off the surprise merchandise.  His words were dreamy, "Azkaban is filled, meaning more Aurors are stuck there as guards and less are out on the streets, and yet, they are no closer to knowing why," but, who cared about any of that when Keavy was right there in front of him, so warm, soft, smelling amazing, and seemingly waiting for him to take advantage of her.

So he did.  It began simply, with his hands continuing up under her skirt this last time, not stopping.  His thumbs brushed against all of the intricate and supple flesh folds between her legs, accidentally.  In truth, he was grabbing her ass with both hands, as splayed fingers proved, but his thumbs, they were close together, centered, and discovered where Keavy had been touching herself the night prior.   

The more that Keavy was listening, the less she couldn't understand the words he was saying. Yes, she was facing him, and making eye contact but his soft calloused fingers were touching her. Making her think of the previous night, of how much Thistle could drive her to the brink of touching herself in front of him, wishing that it was his fingers that was driving into her instead.  When he finished talking a thick silence soon followed, but she couldn't bring herself to speak. Or at least she couldn't think of anything to say that would bring a worthy note to the conversation. Other than what she truly was thinking.

When his hands touched her ass, she watched her skirt move up little by little as she hitched her breath. Revealing her simple blue laced and cotton thong, his thumbs so close to her labia as she moved her face to bury in her pillow. "More, touch me more. I-It feels good."

Keavy didn't know how to voice herself without sounding so awkward, yet the previous night she didn't have any trouble at all. Was it because of how aroused she was? Perhaps if she could get herself into that state again. She swayed her hips slowly as if trying to entice him to go further, and bolder into her.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she stood up on her knees. Her heart thumping as she unzipped her skirt, letting it fall down her knees before Keavy grabbed the pillow and fell forward again, burying her face. Leaving Thistle to do what he wanted, or what he didn't want to do.

Thistle's hands moved to fondle her without any encouragement, but as she leaned forward to bury her face in the pillow and swing her hips, her backside presented to him, he unwrapped his gift.  A quick flick of his wrists and her skirt was tossed up to fall back against her, revealing her to him.  " ... "  He gasped at the sight of her, swept away and speechless as the sight of those curves and those panties.  He leaned closer to her, the tip of his nose and parted lips brushing against her sensitive skin, right along the crease where her thigh begins to swell out into her rump, though currently stretched some due to her positioning.  "If you say ... 'rickshaw,' I'll stop," but he didn't wait for her to reply or acknowledge his offering of a safeword.  Before the words even had time to register, his tongue slipped free of his lips to travel up and over, all the way to the inside-out hem of her skirt.

Instead of telling him to stop, she rose upright, her skirt tumbling back down to cover his head within as he moved across those plump cheeks, brushing over her skin with a curious air and nuzzling his face up against the soft plushness.  With her upright again, her secret core was once again more hidden, but his hands seemed content to squeeze her bottom as his face moved over the contours and his lips placed sucking kisses, teeth grazed her flesh, and his tongue lapped out against the skin.  Clearly, he loved her ass as much as he had her breasts.  He heard the unzipping of her skirt and pulled his head free as she dropped it to her knees and bent back over again, hiding her face in her pillow once more.  "So shy.  Still so shy, even as brave as you've become."

He watched her with a smile, hands returning to fondle her, but fingers hooked against the band of her thong, slowly sliding it over the swell of her rear to reveal all of the delicate intricacies that had been hidden from him thus far.  He pulled them past her lips, seeing the glistening wetness that had just begun to touch the material, and continued them down to her knees and the skirt which had been atop it.  One knee at a time, he moved just enough to get the clothes out and slid them down and off of her completely.  He was fascinated with what he'd discovered, not having seen it before, even in books, though he had read a description a time or two.  Hell, their first sex-ed class, which he didn't even realize that's what it was, wouldn't be for a few hours yet!  He climbed more onto the bed, similarly on all fours, though much lower to keep her entirely in view.

Gently, oh so gently, he reached up with his dominant hand and let a digit trace the line where her lips met, feeling their softness against his fingertip.  Just the slightest bit more pressure, and they parted like flower petals, enough for him to see what they protected.  He watched her as well, drawing back to look towards where she hid her face, to see how she reacted to his touch as he stroked her labia, following them towards their peak where they met, followed between them over a hood of flesh that felt firm from what hardened beneath that he'd yet to discover, and then grazed across the opening between the fleshy lips.  Her reaction to that hardened spot, urged him to check it further, and he found that there was a swollen nub hidden somewhat, that the hood revealed more when lightly tugged down.  He moved to touch it with his finger, curiously, just a feather soft brush of the roughed skin against that sensitive button.

She heard his words, and tried her best to remember the safe word in which she could say. Even just the slight pressure of Thistle's hands against her rear, it was making her entire body tingle, her head turned from her pillow,  gasping as she felt his fingers touch her thong, pulling them down and off of her. Clutching the pillow more she tried her best to keep her breathing even, not wanting to say anything out loud. As if she would break any wonderful spell he was weaving.

Keavy gasped when he touched ever so lightly on her parted lips, not realizing just how wet she had become in such a short amount of time. Or was it from stroking her legs before moving to her pussy? Still, his feather-like touches never stopped, but when he touched her small clit she found herself bucking slightly letting out in a moan.

Keavy knew just by Thistle's touches that his desire was palpable, even when he moved more on the bed and closer to her she couldn't help but just guess that he was growing more in desire as much as she was.

His fingers were controlling every single tingle that ran through her body, and every little sound she made, whether she was moaning or softly begging him for more. Her hands clutched at the pillow tightly, her hips moving closer to his fingers. But, even as she raised her hips to get more, Thistle was in control.

"Oh god... Thistle, please. It's good. Too good."

Her mouth parted slightly, giving him soft pants as she continued, "Ever since you touched my thigh this morning I wanted you to touch me all day..." 

Thistle's warm breath washed over her, his mouth opening, teeth biting against her curvaceous backside as his hands joined forces between.  No longer watching her, or even what his hands were doing, he had to guide himself by touch and judge her responses by sound.  Luckily, she made that second bit really easy for him.  His left hand gripped her inner thigh, one finger held apart to rub at her swollen clit.  He rolled it around his finger tip, stroked it vertically and horizontally, trying to determine which pattern she preferred he continue for further actions.  So confident, as she made it easy to be, his movements were firm and sure, only fumbling slightly when he was too rough against such a sensitive spot, and had to lighten his touch up.

His right hand was more sideways, palm still up against her, as center three fingers played against the soft flesh that guarded her sex.  He simply massaged the loose skin for a time, his main focus on both learning how best she liked her clit touched, and her his mouth now moving over her rear end, as he seemed to be suckling his way slowly closer to the line between her plump cheeks, and that puckered star that, because of how easily her legs were now spread apart, was no longer hidden.  Her wetness, coated his three fingers however, mouth having to pause, gnawing the soft skin and nuzzling, so he could pay attention to how the lips parted around their tips. 

It was so wet, the opening to her yawning for him hungrily, and he could no longer delay slipping a single finger tip inside of her.  Just to the first knuckle, as he was always extra careful not to hurt her, but it was enough to cause his teeth to bite against her a little harder all of the sudden.  It felt like she was sucking on his finger, her walls so close and wet, clinging to his finger as he moved it out and back into her.  So, this is what she had been doing to herself last night.  His finger, knowing she'd been able to manage, slowly delved deeper with each stroke, though, his fingers were thicker than her own.  Soon, he was stroking her clit and fucking her with his fingers, remembering how she had done it so he could base his rhythm on what he'd felt beneath his hand.

He was so hard within his trousers, the pants bulging at the crotch with his full, throbbing erection.  He wanted to do more, but he dared not go so far so fast.  Oh gods, he wanted to!  But he held back, enjoying what he was doing enough that it wasn't even that difficult.  Her sounds and squirming made it all worthwhile, and it was fun in and of itself as well!  He wanted to release himself, to reach down and stroke his firm length, but he seemed to need both hands at the moment, not being skilled enough yet to do this one handed.  But then, an idea popped into his head, and his mouth detached from where it had been latched.  Moments later, his tongue lapped against that sensitive button.  And then again, repeatedly, licking her like a dog who'd missed his owner as his finger rooted deeper inside her, stretching her walls to accommodate it's thicker width and a second finger played around the opening, as he became curious if he could fit a second inside of her.

Keavy thought she was wet before, but now she was dripping. her pants getting louder as she started to slowly roll her hips to his teasing fingers. Her hand reached over to her right breast and roughly massaged it, unable to stop herself as her eyes kept closed, cutting off her sight for a second to feel his breath on her heated skin before she opened them, "Thistle." She moaned.

When she felt his teeth on her skin she gave him a soft gasp, "Oh shit." She reached out and grabbed another pillow as if she had to hold on, her body slowly simmering. That was until she felt his finger enter her and her gasp turned into a loud moan of his name.  She could feel his breath again on her wet pussy now more than ever, his tongue running along her lips and clit. Her back arching so much that she was grinding against his mouth lightly and dripping into his mouth and tongue.

Her hands clutch tighter, as her legs parted more for him, raising her rear higher even. "Thistle, I-I need. Add another finger! Oh god, add another!" She mewled, squirming under him. Feeling a familiar tightness in the pit of her stomach that she so desperately tried to hold back down. Never wanting to end the edge of pure bliss that was happening to her. Feeling her head swimming in the same fuzzy haze that she had the previous night. And this time it was Thistle that was causing this noise that was emanating from her throat. How can someone who she had known for so long, loose contact after a period of time, and then gain it back could even remotely make her feel like this?

"H-harder, fuck me harder." She found herself moaning. Unable to stop herself from saying what was on her mind.

Thistle grinned around his licking tongue, his finger slipping free from her to give room to the fleshy, mouth muscle as it lapped up a heavy line from her clit up through, between her lips.  When his finger returned, it was joined with a second.  "Awwww, my Keavy.  As sweetly as you beg me, how could I not?"  He said, and then both fingers pushed their way inside of her.  His rhythm picked up speed, that sucking flesh of hers so slippery they had no trouble withdrawing to enter her again, at speed against the clinging walls.  He realized at some point that he could use his thumb on the same hand, remembering how she had done so, though he hadn't understood what he was feeling at the time.  Two fingers rushing in and out of her, his thumb rubbing small circles, his second hand was now freed, though currently braced against the mattress as he worked out the rhythm.

Instead of reaching for his cock, however, when his hand finally lifted, it was to grope one of her soft cheeks, spreading her backside apart, as his thumb found and rubbed up against her tailhole.  It was so tightly puckered, he couldn't risk trying to enter it and hurt her, when everything was going so well elsewhere, but, the fluids dripping down his hand gave him an idea.  His thumb collected up that moisture and massaged it against the dryness, not trying to enter, but just to place pressure on her, the natural lotion making it a simple matter to rub small circles against it.  His mouth was all over, biting and sucking as her cheeks around that exploring second hand, or licking and suckling at her labia around the first. 

"That's it, good girl."  He murmured, getting really into the dominance of Keavy, the control, the taking what he wanted, even if she was the one gaining the pleasure, he couldn't help but feel like somehow, she was conceding whatever he wanted to him.  He felt powerful, and skillful, each moan off his name boosting his ego dangerously.  "Good girl, Keavy.  Moan for me, baby.  I want to hear you cum!  I want to feel you cum against my hand and mouth."  His thumb moved off of her clit and his mouth traveled low, attempting to suck the little nub into his mouth, stroking his tongue against the strange weave of supple skins tucked away in that valley of flesh.  Luckily, they had hours available to them, and had jumped straight into this, since neither one of them had looked at the clock for quite some time.

Keavy didn't know how good it could be for someone else's fingers to be inside of her,  the simmer on her skin now feeling like a boil. His second finger slipping into her now soaking pussy was just another fuel to her fire. Each time he was rubbing her in all the right places she felt her hips jerk into his fingers, the tightness in her lower stomach needing to burst. Wanting to. Her face was slightly burning from the pleasure she was getting from it all. She took a deep shaking breath and tried to not turn her head any further towards Thistle, slightly afraid if she did she was surely going to cum at the very sight of it.

She bit her lower lip, never feeling this sensation before. Being kissed, licked and softly bitten on her skin in such a way that would be making her pussy throb around Thistle's fingers. Oh, Lord, her walls were throbbing around his fingers! She felt her breath become shakey, knowing she was coating his fingers and hand in her juices at this rate. When he was talking once more she felt her voice return in a choked whimper. "N-No I-I can't they'll hear us. I shouldn't moan too loudly."

Keavy tried her best to cover her mouth to keep from getting louder, not knowing just how this room worked or even if anyone could come around to the fifth floor. All she knew was that this room appeared and here they were, getting their brains fucked into an eternal bliss. And they hadn't even been here for over an hour yet! She bit into the pillow when she had to clutch the pillow again, feeling her throbbing pussy grow more prominent. "Thistle, I'm going to- to cum. I can't stop it! I can't!"

The pace in her hips started to reverie off rhythm from her usual roll of her hips, with her mind just screaming for the need to cum as she moved her hips faster with his fingers. "I need it harder! F-Fuck me harder!" Keavy screamed into the pillow, nawing on it as she felt her body shake and shivered. Keavy started cumming, rushing through her body as she rolled over, arching her back with a loud moan of his name.

She bucked her hips into his fingers, shoving his face back down onto her clit, ranking her fingers through Thistle's hair tightly. Keavy's high soon came down with her body shivering but feeling the need for more as she looked down at Thistle. "Thistle, that was... God, you trying to not make me walk?"

Keavy couldn't help it but give him a little praise, it was far better than any of her fingers could ever have given her! Not only that but just what gave him so many ideas to do all of this on her? Did he have a previous girlfriend or a fling? No, no- he would have said something if he did. She pushed that ugly thought out of her mind. Knowing better than to ever think that Thistle would just be a type of man who would hit on a girl just for their body.

Thistle had learned most of what he did today from paying attention.  He was always a quick study and the night before had shown him much of what he'd needed to know.  He didn't understand how her womanhood worked, exactly, but his hand had laid upon hers the night before and felt her actions.  Then today, he'd watched her, learning what she liked, where she liked to be touched, he'd learned it all from her.  His fingers asked the questions and her moans and quakes had answered them.  Her moans, her verbal barrage of his name and compliments, warmed him and made him chuckle.  "I would feel proud of myself, if you had difficulty walking."  The only thing he'd done on his own had been playing with her backside, something he had been wanting to do for as long as he could remember and planned to explore more in the future.  For a teen-aged boy like him, the curves that stuck out the most, they were the most obvious sexual features, and so they were the ones that most drew him in.

That was why, when she collapsed against the bed shuddering in orgasm, his body lay alongside hers, and his hands and face were drawn towards her ass and breasts once again.  The post orgasmic snuggle, pre-orgasm for him, which is what kept him so aroused, found his leg thrown over both of hers, hugging them close to him like a body pillow, his raging hard-on a throbbing, heated weight as it pressed to, and drug against, her leg like a humping dog.  His face rested on her plush cheek, gnawing gently upon the skin, nuzzling and licking it.  One hand was toying with the other side, the other arm stretching up under her shirt to fondle at the closest of her breasts through her bra.  He lay with her, as she panted that way, her curvaceous body seeming like a giant chew toy for him, her wolf, and he couldn't have been happier playing with her.  He could still feel her hand in his hair, pulling on it to control his head, could feel her pussy being shoved against his mouth, and the phantom sensations, memories of it all, mixed with his rampant lust, kept him moving against her bare lower body. 

As long as she lay there, he would continue to caress her shapely form, nuzzling his face across her bared skin so sweetly.  He clearly did not care about her sweat or other fluids, as this was all his Keavy, and there was nothing gross about relishing her, meaning they would both need baths again, and he would need a change of clothes for sure.  What he refused to vocalize, his overly-strong feelings for her, his sense of ownership over her, were plain as day in that all-too animalistic affection.  Each pass of his parted lips or cheek against soft flesh reminiscent of a cat marking their owner.

It may have looked rather pervy of Thistle to be snuggling up to the point that he appeared to be softly making out with Keavy's backside, but aside from the raging need that kept him softly humping against her legs, he couldn't have looked happier, especially after making her shake and shudder, crying out his name.  He held a wildness to his affection, as if his mind had stopped being sentient.  As the Ministry of Magic determines categories of Creatures, Thistle had been, like everyone else, classified as a "Being," but in this moment, while Keavy had collapsed down onto her stomach, allowing Thistle free reign to play as he wished, he could have easily been mistaken for a beast.  He was basking in the moment, enjoying her fully, or as fully as he was allowed, but his mind kept drifting into the past...

The first week of 1st years at Ilvermorny had been rough for both Thistle and Keavy, who had not met as of yet.  He was still reeling from his father having remarried, never having gotten over the death of his mother from three years prior.  He wasn't social, hiding in fictional books constantly as a form of escapism, when he wasn't studying, which he was most of the time.  Thunderbird House had taken him in, and the others made an effort to be social, but he didn't understand it.  He could interact, and even laugh, seeming to have fun, at times, but there was always the sense that he was waiting for them to move along so he could pick up his books again.  Within days, after classes and during free periods, he began to leave the castle, hiding amidst the trees of the surrounding forests with his books, sometimes, dangerously oblivious to the passage of time.

It had been the weekend after their first week of school and Thistle was doing just that, when he'd heard a scream, and sobbing, followed by other kids' laughter.  He had been perched in tree, and in looking down, found himself watching as a red-headed girl his age had been backing away from a group of five girls, all with their wands drawn.  She had hers raised, but as the bullies moved in and out, she had no clear target.  She was a very pretty little thing, slightly overweight perhaps,  fat.  In fact, most of her extra weight seemed to be plumping up a chest and backside that really aught to have been on an older girl.  With the tips of their wands, they jabbed and poked at her breasts, or her ass when she turned to guard her chest protectively.  A sexually suggestive torment, though the threat of spell casting was always a threat.  Perhaps that's why they were tormenting her, jealousy of how attractive she was, even if heavier, because of how prematurely developed she was.

At the time, Thistle didn't think that way, to him, she was just a scared girl being tormented by her peers, and if he found her attractive, it made it all the sadder for a boy who reads about heroes.  He was going to leap down, wand out, and send them off crying with a barrage of spells he shouldn't have known yet, but he wasn't the type to go picking fights with girls, even the overly cruel ones.  He'd had a package of Bellowing Beast Biscuits with him, though he hadn't eaten any, and had sorted them curiously a bit ago, but then promptly forgotten.  In the light of the full moon, he'd almost forgotten about them.  A quick Amplifying Charm whispered, he stuck the tip of his wand against his throat and popped a wolf biscuit into his mouth.  Loud growling and snarling were suddenly coming from where he hid, shaking the foliage as the cracker was already wearing off.  The five bullies were fighting each other as they struggled to get away, none wanting to be left in the back and vulnerable.  Another wolf eaten and he was howling a mournful cry even as he stepped out beside the shaking girl and lowered his wand.  "Quietus."  He said softly, and the amplification spell ended.

"Shhhhhh, it's okay now.  You're ok, you're safe.  I've frightened them away,"  He said with a friendly grin, holding out the bag of magical animal crackers to the crying girl.  She was peaking back over her shoulder at him, much as she had when she'd been on all fours today, but back then it had been fear keeping her from opening up to his arrival, rather than an embarrassment over an overwhelming lust.  "I'm Thistle."  He said, and he lifted a third wolf he'd separated earlier to show her.  "I won't let anyone hurt you.  I promise."  When she reached into the bag to draw out an animal cracker, she looked at it skeptically.  He looked slightly sheepish as he admitted, "I know, they're for smaller kids, but I really wanted to howl today.  My mother used to tell me that when you're angry or upset, to take all of your emotions and pain and ball em up and shove 'em into your howl."  He paused, looking down as he nudged a rock with his shoe.  "School hasn't been what I thought it would be.  Not for you either, I'd bet, huh."  He glanced back up into her face, she really was quite pretty.  His cerulean blue eyes sparkled as he said with a grin, "Well, you have me now.  I'll look out for you."

That first meeting was immediately interrupted by teachers rushing out of the school, searching for werewolves.  Thistle stood beside Keavy with his arms around her, letting her cry into his shoulder as he explained what he'd seen and what he had done.  The teachers thought it was a genius way to handle bullying, and began to call Thistle 'the Puck,' behind closed doors, named after that mischievous fairy from A Midsummer Night's Dream, but not Keavy.  To Keavy, he would forevermore be 'her wolf.'  She refused to be separated from him that night, clinging to him and crying when the staff tried to separate them, so they let them stay up a few more minutes.  He read to her, until she fell asleep, and then she was carried back to Pukwudgie house by the Headmistress herself.  From then on, Keavy always found her wolf, and he was always there for her, until the end of their second year, when he'd had to say goodbye for longer than just the summer.

But now, here they were, together again, finally.  Nothing was going to keep them apart. 

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(Side Note:  Funnily enough, Keavy's parents would explain as much, with a very similar version of this memory, to a certain Hogwarts Professor, later on that evening.  The conversation, of course, eventually turned to Thistle's mother, and the three classmates remembered Siobhan Faolan with warm fondness.  Professor Potter would treat Thistle and Keavy quite differently in the days to come, entirely placated by both their stories and Sadhbh's emphatic insistance, "That boy's loyalty, before anything else, is to our daughter. Always has been. He almost gave up his future to stay with her, Harry. Truth be told, even with the job at the Ministry, Keavy finding Thistle again is the greatest thing about this move back home. Do you understand, Harry? He's a puppy dog, not a werewolf.")