Fall from Grace

There was something about this Jasmine Stitch that was not working. Several attempts in and it was not looking the way it had looked in the pattern she had. In addition to looking somewhat lopsided, this stitch was absolute yarn hog, seemingly devouring it with every yarn over. (Was there a spell to grow yarn?) But Maisie would not give up, even after she'd bothered to weave in one side to the other side of this blanket with a needle. Eyes down and fingers taut, she was going to figure it out as she sat up on the window sill off one of the school corridors between classes. But she nearly lost her place when—

BAM!

—a loud noise crashed about the corridor near the staircase side just beside her. She jumped slightly and looked up and out: there was a boy on the ground, his books strewn around him. "Are you okay?" she asked as she put the crochet to one side on the window sill. A hand extended, she would have helped him up, but he seemed to be just doing fine on his own. In lieu of this, she attempted to pick up the books nearest to her and pass them back to him. Hopefully, there'd be something interesting in here beyond the usual textbooks. "I think you have all of them," she said as she passed him a couple of books.

Blinking she looked around for his satchel or whatever he used to carry his things. But while hers sat quietly near the window, his seemed to be, well, absent. "Where's your...nevermind," she mumbled as she thought for a moment maybe his father hadn't gotten his article published this month (or whatever it was he did) and therefore couldn't get him a new satchel. She'd never want anyone to feel bad for their circumstance.

Instead, as she stood up, she could see his robes were a mess from the fall. He must have fallen from high up. "I can try to mend those for you, if there's any tears," she suggested with both a simple mending charm and a needle poised for the job. "And do you know the levitation charm yet? That might help with not carrying so many," she suggested speaking of spells.

Hopefully he wouldn't be weird about her wanting to help because unlike Saunders Napier and the other boys in her boat approaching the school last year, Maisie knew to help people. With a gentle smile, she introduced herself, "I'm Maisie," as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

@Percival Rocier

Percival crouched down to pick up his books as swiftly as he could, only to freeze when he noticed the girl had already picked up a few of them. His heart sank when he spotted his diary among the ones in her hands. His cheeks flared bright red as he reached out, carefully taking it back and tucking it underneath the heavier books before she had the chance to glance too closely.

“Th-thanks,” he mumbled, not quite able to look her straight in the eyes at first.

When she asked if he was alright, he nodded and tried to brush it off. “Yeah… I’m fine. Just a couple of bruises. Happens all the time.” He offered a weak smile, hoping it sounded convincing enough, even though his pride felt more battered than his body.

His gaze then shifted down to his robes, and he sighed. The fabric was dirty, the edges a little torn from the fall. “If you really don’t mind helping, I’d appreciate it,” he admitted. “I’ve never been very good at fixing things.” He gave a small, sheepish laugh, shifting the pile of books in his arms. “And no, I don’t know the levitation charm yet. So… this is how I’ve been managing.”

Realizing how awkward he must look, he adjusted his stance and cleared his throat. “I’m Percival,” he then said, the words sounding a little too formal in his own ears. His chest tightened as he dared another glance at her. He never understood why, but he always felt uneasy around girls, and Maisie was smiling at him. And then there was the way she tucked that loose strand of hair behind her ear-

-he blinked again, forcing himself to focus.

He seemed uncomfortable, embarrassed by his tumble. She did her best to offer him a gentle smile as they collected his books, several of which she recognized from last year's classes. One seemed seemed different—it lacked that textbook title—but she didn't pay it much mind. She had plenty of her own notebooks, filled with doodles of dresses and other designs.

He said he was fine, but also that there were bruises. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out how much truth was in that. But she was no healer. In fact, if you looked at her duelling record, it was clear as crystal that Maisie excelled in getting hurt rather than healing wounds. A brief thought occurred that perhaps she should take him to the hospital wing, but in reality, no one wanted to go there. Mylo and Avis had to drag there the first time, her body wiry from that stormcloud spell, and even then she'd woken to nurse who'd be unable to give her her books to pass the time. No, the hospital wing would only make things worse.

“I’ve never been very good at fixing things," he said.

With a chuckle she instructed him, "I think it depends what you're fixing. Now, hold still." Reaching into her pocket, she grabbed a hold her wand and held out a sleeve where she could see a tear. "Reparo," she cast, hoping to get him back to wear he needed to be. "If that doesn't hold, I can stitch it up," she said with a nod to where she'd abandoned her crochet kit on the window sill.

As she stepped away, he introduced himself as Percival. It struck her as a little formal—no one ever called her Margaret—but perhaps that's how he preferred it. Some people were posh like that. He didn't strike her that way though. He seemed kind, gentle, and comfortable to be around. He seemed more like...more like a Percy.

"Well, if you don't want to carry a tote bag around, Percy, maybe I can teach you the levitation charm. You might have heard of it—the swish and flick?" she said as she pointed her aspen wand towards the top most book on his stack, "Wingardium Leviosa!" And the book promptly hovered above the others. "Do you want to try? I think as long as we have one flying on the bottom, whatever is on the top should come along with it."

Nothing like a little charm-work in the afternoon.

@Percival Rocier

Percival stood completely still as instructed and watched while she raised her wand. With a bit of magic, the tear in his sleeve knit itself back together, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight He had seen his parents perform magic plenty of times at home, but it always felt different here at Hogwarts. Here, he was watching people his own age doing these things, and understood that he'd be learning to do the same!

When she stepped back a moment later and called him Percy, he blinked at first. Nobody had ever shortened his name like that before. A moment later, the corners of his lips tugged upward into a little boyish smirk. He quite liked the way it sounded, and if she wanted to call him that, he would certainly not complain.

She seemed really nice.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, when she swished her wand again, causing one of his books to float neatly above the stack. His eyes widened with excitement, his jaw almost dropping as he leaned forward to get a better look. “That’s brilliant,” he said, realizing this would mean he'd never have to carry those heavy books again. So, for the very first time, he seemed more excited than he was nervous.

“Alrigh, I want to try this. A swish and flick...” he muttered, trying to carefully copy the motion she had just shown him. Then he took a breath and tried to speak the incantation.

“Wingardiam Levioosa!”

The effect came fast... but wasn't what he had hoped for. The book at the top of his pile shot upward like it had been fired from a catapult and smacked him square in the face before tumbling back down onto the pile. Percival staggered, blinking at the sting on his nose as his face flushed bright red.

“Oops,” he chuckled, rubbing his cheek with one hand while trying not to laugh too hard at himself. “Guess I need a bit more practice.”

Percival sighed and looked her in the eyes, his face still flushed, "I do uh, really appreciate you helping me out."

@Maisie Gemmell

A few turns would do it. She walked around him just so to ensure his robes were looking as they had been moments ago. Percy was looking all stitched up as far as she was concerned. And more than that, he was excited to try a spell. It was a look she recognized because at home, she'd always wanted to do things her grandmother Celeste did with her magic. Her parents had created a household that employed both muggle and magic means equally, but her mother's mother had nothing but the brightest magic.

So, with a nod she encouraged him. He seemed to have the gesture down right, but the pronunciation—

smack!

—left something to be desired. "Are you okay?" she asked him for the second time today as she rushed towards him to get a good look at his face where the impact from the book had landed. It was, in truth, a nice face, if a little flush around the edges. "Is it...broken?" she asked referring to his nose, the unfortunate target of a spell gone wrong. Maisie was a sewer, not a healer and she didn't know exactly what it would look like if it were broken. But she did know that the Hospital Wing was one place no one wanted to be so she hoped it wasn't the case.

But his laugh gave her some hope. He wouldn't do that in pain, surely. "Oh no problem," she replied, "Maybe I can levitate them for you? I have some time. Where were you headed?" Maybe they were even going in the same direction. Her fight with the yarn could wait.

@Percival Rocier

Percival brought a hand up to his face and sniffed, half-checking to make sure nothing was out of place as he did. His nose definitely stung, and his pride maybe even more so, but at least it wasn’t bleeding or bent.

That had to count for something, right?

“I’m okay,” he said with a laugh, though his voice came out a little more nasally than usual. He then straightened up and tried to look a bit tougher, rubbing at the tip of his nose once more just to be sure. “It's not broken, I think. Maybe just… a little sore.”

Her worry made him smile, though, and when she offered to help, that smile turned into something even warmer. “You really don’t have to, but...” he paused, glancing at the stack of heavy books at his feet and the long way down to the Slytherin common room, “—well, I'd really appreciate it. It's a long way down to the Slytherin Common Room.”

Whose idea had that been? Or maybe he just shouldn't have lost his satchel.

Percival then bent low to collect the last fallen book, setting it back atop the others before looking back at her. “I also don’t trust my luck enough to try the levitation charm again after... well, that,” he said with a sheepish grin, before gesturing at the painful spot on his nose. “I probably need to practice a bit more first.”

"You’re really good at spells, by the way." He smiled and kept his eyes focused on her, clearly impressed. “How long did it take you to be so good at them? You made it look so easy.” He was curious because it's something he wanted to excel at, too.

@Maisie Gemmell

She breathed a sigh of relief when he confirmed his nose was not broken. Clothes she could mend, but not body parts. "That's lucky. You'd hate the Hospital Wing," she explained, recalling the numerous times she'd woken up there last year. No one deserved that.

"You'll probably learn it in class a little later in the year. Maybe that will help. Professor Fresnel is very good at showing how spells work, even if she's a little more colorful than the other instructors. I like that about her though. It makes things more fun," she explained. Charms was her best class and she enjoyed it very much, but she knew it wasn't everyone's cup of tea.

He was destined towards the Slytherin dungeons. She probably should have guessed that from his robes. He seemed a rather nice Slytherin, kind of like Avery, who had been up until now the only Slytherin she knew who seemed to have some kindness rather than just a self-serving competitiveness. "I think I can do that," she agreed while double-checking her watch.With a nod, she divided the books up and with her pile she cast a gentle, "Windgardium Leviosa," to get it floating just ahead of her. "I'll follow you," she said as she came up along side him.

"You’re really good at spells, by the way."

"Oh," she felt her cheeks flush as that caught her by surprise, "I'm not really. Theoretically, yes. But in practice? I'm a disaster on the block." Swallowing, she knew she should have felt more ashamed of her duelling record—and she was—but at the same time, it was public information by now. "My friend, Mylo, is coaching me though," she said as if this should help. And she really, really, really wanted it to help.

Time would tell.

@Percival Rocier

Percival nodded at the mention of the Hospital Wing. “Yeah, I don’t think I ever want to end up there,” he said, even though he had a feeling that he would and that he'd hate it. So, he rubbed at his nose again as if to make sure it was still fine, then smiled when she brought up Professor Fresnel.

That's a name he knew!

“I like her too,” he said. “She makes everything sound fun, even when it’s really complicated. I think Charms might end up being one of my favorite classes.” Together with defense against the Dark Arts and even Potions. “I want to be an Auror one day, so I’ll need to be good at that sort of stuff. ” His Dad had told him what it took to be one, so now he was determined to work for it.

When Maisie agreed to help him, Percival relaxed some more. “Thanks again. That’s really kind of you,” he said as they started walking. He watched her levitate half of the books, impressed again at how effortlessly she did it. He meanwhile held up a few of his own and followed beside her.

Then there was that blush at his compliment. It made warmth rise to his own cheeks, and he quickly looked forward again. “Well… I still think you’re really good at it,” he said after a moment, “I'm sure I could learn a lot from you.”

They soon reached the stairway leading down toward the dungeons, so Percival adjusted his grip on his books and turned to look at her. “By the way,” he said, clearly curious about something, “You were working on something before I showed up, right? I hope I didn’t interrupt too much.”

He smiled, hoping the question didn’t sound too nosy. He just genuinely interested in her now.

@Maisie Gemmell

"Nuhuh," she said, nodding. The Hospital Wing was not a fun place so she was glad that his nose was fine. For now, onward!

Wand up, she levitated his books with ease as she followed him down the corridor. "Oh, Charms is one of my favorite classes and DADA, too." Honestly, it wasn't a competition. Everything else was pretty boring in comparison. And no one was as cool as Professor Fresnel.

“I want to be an Auror one day, so I’ll need to be good at that sort of stuff. ”

Her eyes widened. This could be useful, especially if he could become an Auror quickly. (It wasn't like it took years of training or anything. Surely, he could become an Auror right out of Hogwarts.) "That's cool," she said, "So, hypothetically, if you were an Auror and another Auror, your friend, went missing, what would you do about it?" She deliberately waited to give him time to really think about it. If she and Avis were going to find Avis' father, they needed all the help they could get and a future Auror seemed like a great idea.

"Oh, it's no trouble," she told him as they walked. Kindness was easy; casting was not. "I still think you’re really good at it,” he reiterated and again she felt herself blush slightly. He had the benefit of only watching her do this one spell, but still there was something nice about someone else believing in her ability. The truth was, maybe he was the kind one.

“You were working on something before I showed up, right? I hope I didn’t interrupt too much.”

She was lucky she'd grabbed her satchel and things before they'd left. "Not interrupting. I think the yarn just didn't want to work today. I was trying out a new stitch for a blanket: jasmine stitch. It ends up looking like little stars. I can show you if you want?" she offered, only realizing in the seconds that followed that it was probably stupid. Most boys weren't interested in crafts.

But maybe he was different.

@Percival Rocier