Daring To Fall PV Avis Greymond Finished

Avis whistled a familiar Irish folk tune to herself as she walked up the path toward the Quidditch Stadium, her Comet 180 bouncing along over one shoulder. She was in good spirits this evening as Friday had finally arrived this week and Merlin's Beard, it had been a long one. Herbology was kicking her quite soundly in the arse and if she didn't find a way to free her mind from the clutches of magical plant biology, Avis figured she was well on her way to going stark mad.

Luckily, she'd had enough time after dinner to participate in one of her favourite stress-relieving activities: flying. With homework and assignments at the back of her mind, she breathed in the brisk October air and exhaled, watching a cloud of condensation float out of her mouth. She smiled to herself. The weather was finally getting a bit chillier and although she wasn't the biggest fan of frozen toes and snowballs to the face, Avis was looking forward to the changing of seasons and the imminent excuse to wear sweaters and hoodies everywhere.

She entered the tall stadium doors and instead of continuing out onto the field, she paused at the entrance as someone briefly caught her eye. A Slytherin boy was disappearing into the bottom of one of the spectator stands, a broom in hand. Odd. Most people took off from the grass pitch below the arena. Was he planning on taking a dive from the top to start off a flying session? It wasn't a bad idea. In fact, Avis rather liked it. She hoped he wouldn't mind her stealing his plan as she impulsively turned to follow him.

. . .

Minutes later, Avis found herself trying to catch her breath after dashing up most of the wooden stairs below her. She wanted to see the boy fly off the spectator stand. Maybe he was a Seeker and wanted to practice pulling out of a dive? The Ravenclaw didn't plan on disturbing him. In fact, she was hoping he wouldn't notice her at all but as she reached the top step, she froze. The boy was sitting in the front row of the booth, peering out over the pitch, his Nimbus 1700 lying still and unused on his lap. Curious. Avis moved to one side of the open door and peeked around the edge. What was he waiting for?

After a few minutes of impatient waiting, Avis sighed to herself. She hadn't climbed up all those stairs for nothing. She'd simply have to walk right past him and dive off the stand herself. She'd taken dives on a broom plenty of times, especially when she and her older brother Will would have contests at home trying to claim the title of "surviving the steepest dive". Unfortunately, they'd been outlawed from playing the game after Avis had tried to best Will (who happened to be 5 years her senior) in a particularly risky contest. Long story short, Mam had had to use a bone mending spell on Avis' left arm and the two siblings had been grounded (quite literally) for 2 months.

Avis shook her head at the memory and was about to start forward when the boy pulled out his wand and gently waved it in a calculated movement, whispering an incantation to himself. A monarch butterfly emerged from his wand and it flitted away as he watched it wistfully. Bollocks, was this strange boy alright? As impressed as she was by the second year spell, Avis figured it was best to leave him to his thoughts. She took a breath and marched forward, broom in hand.

"Evening," she said, in her best nonchalant voice as she walked past him to stop at the edge of the stand. She peered over the edge and grinned at the drop. Perfect spot to practice a dive from zero acceleration. Avis backed up to clamber onto one of the front row seats and mounted her broom, preparing for the leap over the barrier and hoping she didn't look like a complete psychopath.

Many times growing up around his father who loved an anecdote and phrase he had been confused about the expression jumping out of ones skin but on that chilly Friday night he learned it in all its facets. For when a random first year comes out of nowhere startling the living daylights out of you a person tends to quite literally jump and in this case almost stumble right off the edge of the spectator stands. Perhaps it would have been just the tool necessary to teach him how to let go of his fear but frankly the boy would rather not have that particular theory tested. Brain having lost all control of his mouth he hear the words rip from his throat as he tumbled back over the edge, "Jesus Christ!"

Throwing his body weight forward to prevent him from the impending doom of gravities annihilation he just about managed to steady himself, face a picture of surprise that flashed momentarily with irritation when it settled on the girl. Stilling his anger knowing she didn't mean to kill him, at least he hoped she didn't, he watched her rise upon the edge of a stand and witnessed as she had the audacity to grin at the drop below. Matthew needed no more confirmation to know that whoever the first year was she was clearly very comfortable with a broom and so surmised she had grown up in the wizarding world. He found himself wondering if she knew how lucky they had it but this was simply a first year a conversation about their socio-political stances was not exactly in the cards.

Watching her with an intoxicating curiosity he quirked his brow and interjected quickly anticipating that the crow was moments away from throwing herself off given she had mounted her broom, "You're not going to jump from here are you? I know you're a raven but isn't it a bit high?" Everything about his interaction so far painted him so clearly as a muggle born, from his reference of the Christian saviour to his clear discomfort and lack of knowledge on flying. Sometimes the boy wished he didn't have to overthink every interaction but no matter how much research he did he would always be at a disadvantage, a visitor to this culture. Still nothing could quell his intrigue at her confidence. Matthew had thought he detected an Irish accent but was too distracted with not falling to his death to really maintain concentration.

Wondering what it would be like to feel the air atop the stands he continued to stare at the girl who's mid-length dark brown hair picked up upon the wind blowing behind her revealing the rosy rouge of her cheeks where freckles dotted towards her nose. Her wide smile spoke of not just confidence and comfort but of the pure exhilaration of the experience and it inspired him to be brave. Gripping his broom in his hand he closed his eyes and stepped up allowing his bundle of curls to blow wildly into the air. Still adamantly refusing to mount his broom, she hadn't inspired that much craziness, he slowly opened his eyes and resisting the urge to throw himself down on the stands took in the beauty of the freeing sensation. Up here everything seemed smaller and the longing sensation to fly pulled upon him more than ever. Yet fear was a difficult obstacle and tight clutching fingers began to loosen as the Nimbus dropped to the ground and he slumped back against the stands once again defeated.

Mentioning @Avis Greymond

Reducio

Don't be I love to read all the detail!

Avis lifted onto her toes, readying herself for the drop to come when the startled boy interrupted her concentration. She sank back down onto the balls of her feet as he spoke.

"You're not going to jump from here are you? I know you're a raven but isn't it a bit high?" he questioned in a clear Glaswegian accent, his eyebrow quirking up in light confusion. Avis mirrored the look, reveling for a moment in the familiarity of his accent as her best friend had the same one. This second year had his own Nimbus and he was asking her about flying too high? She gave him a wide smile and patted her own broom underneath her.

"That's what this is for," she joked and turned back towards the edge. She stared out over the pitch, anticipating the freedom that would flood into her nervous system as soon as she lifted off the ground. A light gust of wind rustled her hair and for a moment, she regretted not tying it up, but the moment passed as the comfort of the crisp breeze over the Quidditch Stadium kissed her gently on the nose.

A small sound to her right caught Avis' attention and she glanced over at the curious boy. He'd climbed up next to her, his eyes closed and his dark curls catching the breeze as he seemed to be experiencing a similar type of elation. His broom still lay useless in his hand, but he seemed to be warming up to the idea of taking flight. Perhaps they could take a few laps together?

Avis watched as his eyes opened slowly. He looked out over the pitch and the Ravenclaw was about to suggest they take off when the relaxed expression on his face faltered and he slumped back down onto the seats, looking utterly defeated. His broom clattered to the ground and Avis cocked her head in confusion. Moments later, she followed suit, her plans of diving off the edge abandoned for the moment.

Curious at his defeated expression, she couldn't help herself.

"Is something wrong?" she questioned, hoping she wasn't prying too much. His mood had changed so suddenly and she couldn't help but think she'd done something to affect it.

@Matthew Campbell
WC: 374

Demoralised his dark eyes watched as sunset continued to fade past the mountains and moors of the Scottish highlands. His broom lay beneath him littering the stands with wasted potential. He should be embarrassed for owning such a fancy model when he didn't even have the courage to use it. That's when he heard the gentle footfall to his left and watched as the girl once poised to soar now sat watching him an expression of curiosity or potentially nervousness shaping her features.

Frowning mostly to himself he answered her question in a defeated tone that matched his demeanour perfectly, shoulders slumped to match, "It's nothing, I don't mean to keep you if you want to fly you should go for it. I just... well I just wish I could join you but I guess well no I know... you see I don't really know how." Eyes drained of their usual rich warmth he looked down towards the discarded broom and then up to the girls eyes before continuing a deep sigh hovering between them. "I can't fly. I tried in first year but growing up flying was reserved for superheroes and well wizards, I guess, and I just suppose I never expected that to be me." Wringing his hands together as he did so often when nervous he found them raised up clutching at his collar where the ring lay under his dark green Slytherin hoodie.

Even despite the melancholy their was still a solitude to the space that the girl hadn't broken in fact it felt quite nice to be up here with someone. It reminded him of Genevieve and the astronomy tower. A small smile tugging at the corners of his lips he recalled memories of those days and wondered how a boy who's favourite area of the castle was the tallest could be afraid of flying. Then laughing softly to himself over the stupidity of his own fears he turned to her and said, "I'm Matthew by the way, Matthew Campbell, Second Year, Slytherin if you couldn't tell." Playfully gesturing to the clear house insignia on his hoodie. "I can't believe that I can get an outstanding in the hardest theory classes on the planet but flying is where I'm going to fail." Despite the light brevity of his response it was clear the failure irritated him as he rolled the broom under foot something that would likely destroy a quidditch lover's heart.

Still worrying he was keeping her he smiled as brightly as he could and with an awkward thumbs up he spoke, "Sorry you don't need to listen to me babble, I really don't want to keep you from your fun." Standing slowly he began to look down below him once more letting his body adjust to the lack of control and diminishing any notions of vertigo. Leaning against the boxes edge he waited to see what the girl would do, perhaps even if he wouldn't fly today he could admire another's skill.

Avis listened earnestly as the Slytherin stumbled through his sentence, obviously quite disappointed with himself. Everything about his body language screamed defeat and Avis felt a small fire of determination light inside her chest as his hazel eyes met hers. She was much too competitive a person to let someone give up so easily, especially at something that brought her so much joy.

"I can't fly. I tried in first year but growing up flying was reserved for superheroes and well wizards, I guess, and I just suppose I never expected that to be me," he continued. Ah, he was Muggleborn. The Ravenclaw gave him a sympathetic smile as he clutched nervously at some sort of necklace underneath his sweatshirt. Shoving down the urge to ask him more about 'superheroes' and making a note to ask him later, Avis thought out a response as the wind stilled around them for a moment.

"We all start somewhere," she reassured him. "I know a lot of wizards that don't like to fly or never learned, so you're not alone! I just happened to get shoved onto a broom when I was really little because my brother wanted someone to practice his Quidditch shots on," she chuckled, reminiscing for a moment. The quiet of the Stadium between their brief lines of chatter was as comforting as a blanket and she reveled in it for a moment before the boy next to her broke the silence with a soft laugh.

"I'm Matthew by the way, Matthew Campbell, Second Year, Slytherin if you couldn't tell," he joked, gesturing to the insignia on his hoodie. "I can't believe that I can get an outstanding in the hardest theory classes on the planet but flying is where I'm going to fail." Avis shook her head, a smile still on her face.

"Avis Greymond. First year," she replied, neglecting to mention her house as she happened to be wearing house gear as well. She began to absentmindedly fiddle with the bottom of her oversized Ravenclaw sweater at the thought. "And don't worry. I'm barely passing Herbology and I've been a witch my whole life," she said transparently and grimaced, "Imagine not being able to do plant homework."

Despite her efforts to make the boy feel better about his supposed flying failures, Avis could see that his light friendly attitude was clearly just a ploy to cover the fact that he was truly feeling a bit down. She wished desperately that she could help (and perhaps rescue the one of a kind broom that he was now rolling around with his foot like a useless toy) and thought back to when she was learning how to fly. Unfortunately, Will had simply placed her on a broom and shoved her off the edge of their family's cottage. It had been terrifying, but it had worked seamlessly. She sighed. Well that wouldn't be helpful in this case... unless...

The impulsiveness fanned the flame of determination to help Matthew experience the joys of flying and she gave him a sidelong glance with a less-than-safe idea forming in her head.

"Sorry you don't need to listen to me babble, I really don't want to keep you from your fun," he was saying and stood to once again glance over the edge of the spectator box. Avis frowned and narrowed her eyes. That's it. He was learning to fly today, whether he knew it or not.

"I don't mind. It'd be more fun flying together anyhow," she chirped and bounced up out of her chair, a smile slowly forming on her face. Picking up his rejected Nimbus from its place on the ground, she shoved it into his hand and clambered up onto the edge of the spectator box, her legs swinging out over the Quidditch pitch below as she sat on the short wooden wall.

Avis glanced over her shoulder and gestured for him to come closer. "First thing we can do is face your fear! If you can lean out over the edge like that, you can sit on it too. C'mon. Perfectly safe," she said, patting the surface of the wall next to her and then reaching out a steadying hand in case he needed it.

Avis may have only been a first year but she had a remarkable way of easing the tension that settled in every creek of his bones. He couldn't help but find himself smiling a little brighter when she mentioned her brother and inability to master Herbology. The girl seemed suspiciously driven to help him and while last year he would have observed it with scepticism and worry the girl had a genuine quality about her that inspired his trust. Making a mental note that he would have to help her with Herbology if she really did teach him anything he began to wander over to where she had indicated Nimbus uselessly in hand.

Leaning was one thing but expecting him to sit on the wall he became more and more assured in his belief that she was clearly some kind of thrill seeking adrenaline junky. Who in their right mind would willingly perch on the edge, was she some kind of bird, well of course she was she's a damn Ravenclaw; the joke making his mind ease of worry. Watching her clamber onto the ledge his mind conjured the imagery of the story she had told about her brother whom he surmised must have been older if he was playing quidditch before her. Growing up with no siblings he had never been introduced to sports in that way but for a moment he pondered the life he might have had growing up in a wizarding household. Donning a broom as soon as he could walk and being inseparable from the air, he would never have that past but why allow that to deny him in the present.

Avis was either avidly confident in her ability to get him to fly today or completely delusional but with the notion that sitting perched hundreds of metres above the ground was "perfectly safe" he reasoned it was likely the latter. Despite that, he found himself invigorated by her nonchalance and somehow calmed in the way he usually inspired in others. Handing her his broom for if she thought he was doing this one handed she had another thing coming he mentally prepared for the completely moronic decision of joining her but before his brain could interject he shut it off and forced his body into compliance. Lifting a violently shaking leg he clambered halfway over the ledge biting down on his lip to stop to the near thundering heart palpitations that were breaking from his chest as the world below him came into sight.

Hands gripped like claws on the wood of the wall he gently swung his other leg to join until they dangled over the precipice completely untethered to the ground. Taking a few slow breaths he laughed slightly a nervous timid thing, "Are you sure wizards aren't crazy? This definitely feels crazy. Maybe I'm just one of those wizards who isn't meant to fly you know." The panic in his voice was palpable and yet endorphins summoned themselves filling his heart with a rush of childlike joy like a disobedient child doing something he shouldn't. Letting one of his hands go he ungraciously accepted his broom back. This was a great new marker for him but he still had absolutely no intention of flying I mean if he couldn't from the ground their was not a chance in hell he would from up here. "This was a fun experiment I should probably head back down now though to be safe, wouldn't want to fall." The pathetic excuse for a laugh he attempted at the end was practically a cry for help.

Avis clutched Matthew's Nimbus as she watched the boy shakily climb onto the wall, finally swinging one last leg over the edge and plopping down to right. She could hear him desperately trying to control his breathing as he allowed himself a small nervous laugh.

Avis, in turn, laughed at his statement about crazy wizards. She supposed they all were a bit crazy if one truly thought about it, but the Ravenclaw really had nothing to compare it to, as she'd grown up around magic her whole life. "Maybe the magic does get to your head I guess," she joked. "And I think everyone, wizard or not, was meant to fly. Mam always said I was, at least. My name means 'bird' or something in... Latin, I think," she rambled, trying to plan out her next move. She'd finally gotten him up on the wall and handing him his broom back, she noted that he had everything he needed to stay afloat. Just missing a bit of confidence. Avis figured he'd have to gain some quick if her plan worked.

"This was a fun experiment I should probably head back down now though to be safe, wouldn't want to fall," Matthew said, the panic in his voice evident. The laugh afterwards did not help his case. Avis gave him a mischievous smile, which she supposed was something one did not want to see as they were sitting on the edge of a long drop.

"But..." she said softly, turning towards him, "What if you fly?"

Quickly, she reached out and gave him a light shove, but it was just enough to get him teetering off balance and tipping towards the drop in front of them. "Don't forget to think up!" she said hastily, giving him one last piece of advice and reaching for her own broom.

Matthew was quite sure that given a thousand lives he would never be able to burn the look of mischief from his brain that she had watched him with. It reminded him of himself only he would never in a million years have pushed someone off of the goddamn quidditch stands. I mean crazy was one thing but full on homicidal was entirely another. Maybe it was his comeuppance for trusting someone again, maybe the ministry had made a clerical error and he had never been meant to be a wizard, the magic he produced was just a placebo of some kind. These were just some of the many grievous thoughts that flashed into his mind as the ground came barrelling towards him at breakneck speed.

All of a sudden breakneck speed felt quite literal as he was surely facing death at any moment. He supposed in those final breaths that he had just longed moments ago to be back on the ground and at the very least he would get that wish fulfilled. As the green moved closer and closer and screams that had drowned out all other noise began to fade into oblivion he suddenly tuned into the vibration of his heart and in its pulsing found a stillness. Adrenaline was causing it to race thoroughly but deeper within it lay a calm beneath the storm a kind of energy others said he emanated, the special quality he had never been able to access before passed down by his mother.

Suddenly a world that was moving infinitely fast slowed and he saw the glowing polished wood of his broomstick falling in unison next to him. The Nimbus 1700 that practically begged to be given the opportunity to fly. With outstretched hand he leant forward and dove to retrieve it from the airs grasp. When steady desperate fingers caught the touch of smooth wood underneath he hurled himself with all his might until he was positioned above and just as the world was about to transport him into the next he spoke softly, so softly even the air itself had to quiet to hear, spoke with hope "Please, up!" Like the name it was given his broom shot into the air like a piercing bolt of fire ripping through the winds and leaving a scattering of autumn leaves flung airborne behind him. Had he really been that close to the pitch.

Now aerial he felt the rush of energy as the wind picked up his hair and danced gracefully over every fibre of his being in a glorious waltz. Then he settled his gaze on Avis once more. Matthew should have been angry Merlin knows he should have been furious but she had done it. The entire experience was undeniably terrifying and it was very clearly not without major risks but here he was suspended above the air riding on a broomstick surrounded by an entirely new perspective. Exclaiming every proclamation of joy possible he began to unsteadily fly towards her. The command up had seemingly done the trick but he was still fighting for balance with dear life. "I did it, I mean you did it, I mean screw it we did it! I'M FLYING" Those last words ripped from him as if they were the first words he had ever spoken, unyielding and entirely brimming with joy.

Smiling towards the girl who had helped him so he smirked a mischievous smile great enough to rival her own and laughed heartily as he said, "Well don't just sit there, aren't you going to fly or are you now too scared!" Knowing that she would of course fly laps around him was of no consequence to him, his elation had already reached peak and now he simply wanted to goad her for fun. Light revenge for nearly ending his life. Filing this under one of the stories he decided not to tell his father about Hogwarts his smile grew exponentially and he pushed forward on his broom beginning to steady in the knowledge that even if he fell he would fly. She had given him that, 'There can be no hope without fear, and no fear without hope.' the quote coming to his mind. Avis had believed in him and in doing so forced him into choosing hope over fear.

Avis watched in shock as Matthew plummeted towards the ground, his broom flying out of his hand. She gulped. The girl really had no idea what had come over her. She'd been planning on helping him all along but she'd never actually come to terms with pushing him over the edge until she just... did.

In horror, she saw him reaching desperately for his broom and she cupped her hands over her mouth.

"UP, Campbell! Think UP!" she screamed, but her desperate words were drowned out by the once enjoyable October wind. Avis grabbed her broom and shot to her feet on top of the wall. She was about to dive after him, cursing her impulsiveness for once again making a mess of things, when a strange sense of calm came over her, steadying her wildly beating heart. She watched as Matthew dove for his broom, the scene almost playing out in slow motion in front of her. Somehow, she knew he was going to be alright and just as the strange calm feeling had predicted, the falling boy managed to grasp the polished wooden handle and pull himself up onto the Nimbus. Avis let out a half-excited, half-terrified whoop of relief. "Thank, Merlin," she gasped to herself.

She readied herself for the torrent of anger from her almost victim that she definitely would have let loose on him, had the roles been reversed, but it never came. Matthew flew towards her, wobbling like a newborn horse standing for the first time, but afloat nonetheless. His face was a picture of overwhelming joy and she couldn't help but grin.

"I did it, I mean you did it, I mean screw it we did it! I'M FLYING!" he announced happily. Avis laughed, the adrenaline finally starting to die down within her.

"You're flying!" she shouted back, pure joy rising in her chest. He was finally able to experience the feeling she valued the most and Avis had been able to give it to him... through questionable means, sure, but there he was, alive and well and... taunting her? She made a face at him.

"Getting a bit cocky, are we?" she laughed, clambering onto her own broom. With that, she pushed off the edge, suspending herself in the air for a moment of exhilarating freedom before shooting down towards the green pitch below. She narrowed her eyes against the piercing wind and pulled up moments before crashing into the ground, gracefully swooping up into the sky to pull up next to her new student. "Thanks for making it out of that one unscathed," she joked breathlessly, "Was a bit nervous about my spotless criminal record."