Where We Glide PV

𝓒upping her hands around her mouth, Ruth Fairchild blew out a gust of air, watching it mist before her, swirls of white against the bright blue sky, before the wind carried them away. It had been slightly more than a year since she had ventured to the Black Lake with the motives of skating, the first time having been slightly more traumatic than memorable. However, that had been with @Amelia Garnett. Now, she was with @Pamela Graham, whose gifted skates would suggest that she would be a better skater than the aforementioned. Maybe.

But the possibility was on her side. Considering the number of times her best friend had lamented, begged, gone on and on and on about visiting the lake to skate, it was most probable that Palm Sugar had tricks under her sleeve that even she knew nothing about.

"You need a hand?" Ruth glanced down at Pam, who had already gotten on her knees and laced up her ice skates, white laces looped into pretty little ribbons. Her enthusiasm was apparent through the grin that spread across her face, an almost-feverish glint in her best friend’s eyes that hinted at how much she was itching to get onto the ice and skate her heart out. Swallowing the sudden flashbacks from the 21st of January, 2025, Ruth gathered her wits and rolled her eyes playfully. “I think I’ve got it, thanks,” she teased back before following suit.

The soft ice seeped into her pants, a wet patch blooming across the fleece as the Hufflepuff gathered the two ends of the rope and tightened it at a casual pace. To anyone else, the rate at which she was going may have caused them to wonder if she had ever worn skates before. To Pam, it might be otherwise and simply showcase her reluctance. That wasn’t what she was exactly planning to do – get caught. After all the attempts to avoid telling Pamela about what exactly had happened last year, she couldn’t fail now. So she angled her body away to some degree, sped up her tying. Just a little.

“You can go first, if you want,” Ruth offered to the other. “I’ll catch up.” With a hand, she waved Pam to go ahead, causing one lace to fall back down, undone. Anything to decrease the time on ice, really.

It wasn’t that she was particularly opposed to skating. It was more the mere fear of re-ennacting what had happened, though half of the stumble was not her contribution. What a pity, to feel the familiar sensation of anxiety sneaking up her spine, crawling over her shoulder towards her chest. And on such a fine day as this. Ruth squinted up at the sun, its rays dancing across the frozen lake, sending enticing sparkles scattered across the surface. It was a day that was cold enough to feel the faintest breeze tickle one’s skin, yet warm enough not to need hot chocolate or a crackling fire to thaw.

It was also the rare discomfort of letting her best friend down by displaying antics that should be banned on ice, clown-like behaviour that Ruth was surely going to perform. After a year’s worth of not slipping her feet into the soles of her ice skates, the Second-year was unsure of her ability to ground herself and hold steady, much less glide. Despite wanting to set forth after the event, activities and dilemma held her back, including the impending feeling that she had found something of her heritage that could be important. It was important.

Speech -- Thoughts

The lake glittered quietly under the winter sun.

Pam pushed herself upright, brushing snow from her gloves before stepping forward. The blades of her skates met the ice with a soft scrape, settling into a practiced glide as the frozen surface welcomed the weight of her first steps.

The day truly was perfect. The sunlight scattered across the ice in a sheet of sparkles.

Pam could not linger on that thought for too long.

Her attention had shifted somewhere far less poetic— namely to the painfully slow progress Ruth was making with her skates. For someone who confidently claimed she "had it", Pam could also confidently say that she did not, in fact, have it.

Pam herself had gathered an enormous amount of patience when she'd found out Ruth wasn't a good skater. Which meant she was going to be responsible, and not do uncontrolled, careless jumps and spins which could make her smack into Ruth and send them sprawling across the ground.

It also meant that she was absolutely not going to "go first" and let Ruth "catch up" to her.

But she was itching to properly get on the ice. Even teaching someone how to skate meant she’d still get plenty of time to skate herself.

Her gaze dropped.

One of Ruth's laces had come undone again.

As for the other one, the black-haired girl was still at it, looping the lace carefully and— was that a cow?— "You can tie it the way you tie normal sneakers—" Pam skipped over, kneeling in front of her, "It just needs to be tighter so your feet doesn't dance around inside the shoes. And a double knot will ensure it doesn't open midway." She tapped Ruth's hands away, smoothly picking up from how far she'd gotten, "Let me do it, I'll be faster."

She stood up after she'd finished, eyeing her handiwork approvingly. Then she held out her hands to her friend, "Shall we?"

𝕽ats. Pamela had seen through Ruth's snail-like attempt at procrastination. “Hey!” She squeaked, an unnecessary wince escaping her lips as Pamela smacked gently at her hand, causing them to part like waves away from the laces. Her best friend's fingers replaced them instantly, forming loops similar to those on her custom shoes. Ruth's forest green eyes followed the movement, her gaze drawing up as Pamela finally stood to gauge her handiwork with pride. She then proceeded to watch Palm Sugar extend both hands towards her. With a soft, resigned chuckle, Ruth accepted the help graciously, hefting herself up off the ground.

As she mindlessly patted against her pants, brushing away what snow remained, Ruth took one last survey of the lake. They had come around the time when cold spells had been consistent throughout the past few days, and the ice had a polished, untouched sheen.

“So,” Ruth began, dragging out the syllabus, “Yep. Here I go.” There was no way of escaping this. The girl took in one long, deep breath, exhaling out wisps of condensation, then took one step onto the ice.

And slipped.

Jokes! An interjection escaped her lips as her right blade slipped out from beneath her, causing Ruth to flail. In a split second, she had dropped on all fours back onto the ground, hands and knees crushing into the snow, resulting in what she felt was a pretty successful rescue from the pitfall of swollen buttocks and aching backs.

A sheepish grin made its way across the Hufflepuff’s face as she blinked up at Pam, before it wallowed out into an expression along the lines of ‘I told you so. This sport just isn’t for me. Please let me go.’ But a small pinch of her (perhaps a little bigger than a grain of salt) felt the responsibilities of being a good best friend towards the other. This was accompanied by a much larger pint of guilt that curdled in her insides, the drink freshly brewed from the knowledge that her family had given her those skates to use rather than rot in a storage closet.

After all, it was unlike Ruth to give up. It was part of what made her such a badger.

Ruth straightened up gradually and dusted the snow away from her stinging palms. “Second time’s the charm,” she reassured her best friend, half wondering if that was truly how the saying went, before bringing the second blade onto the ice fluidly. Well, that went well. Ruth found that celebrating too early didn't always go great, but it was the little things in this case that spurred her on. Gathering both blades such that the stanchions clinked together, she pushed off gently on one foot, then the other. Funny how the one less willing was the first to move further into the ice.

With each step she took, Ruth shook a little less, beamed a little more. Her hands hung loose by her sides, occasionally rising to balance herself as she slid with her left, then right, then left.

If petals could bloom from the soles of her skates onto the ice, it might -- or at least, that was what the Hufflepuff felt like. To anyone else, her movements may have been closer to a hobble than a glide, a chicken than a swan. But what mattered was that she was beginning to remember that last time's attempts hadn't been as unfortunate as she had remembered. In fact, Ruth was starting to realise that the very day she had cruised along the ice, she had left with a lightened spirit -- the exhilaration at being able to learn something new, the pride of overcoming a challenge, the eagerness to creep through the kitchens and snag a cup of hot chocolate.

With each step Ruth took, she began to dislike skating a little less.

Speech -- Thoughts

Something told Pam that her best friend really did not want to be here. Nevertheless, Ruth seemed to have resigned herself to her day's suffering, accepting Pam's hand and pulling herself up.

Pam was gonna offer to help Ruth onto the ice but the words were left unsaid as the latter stepped onto the ice.

And slammed into the cold on all fours.

"Are you alright, Rue?" Pam couldn't help but sound worried for the girl. However, Ruth simply blinked up at her, a sheepish smile gracing her features, conveying something along the lines of 'This isn't for me' and 'can I go home now'.

But Rue— Pam had to give it to her— was not someone who gave up too easily.

The girl was up in a while, and Pam laughed at her words, "I believe the saying goes 'third time's a charm' but the idea is the same nevertheless."

The other skate joined it's pair on the ice, and Pam watched fondly as Ruth pressed onwards, away from the snow and deeper into the frozen lake. Her form was... terrible, if Pam was being truthful. But atleast she hadn't fallen again. Yet.

Slowly, she was improving. Pam could tell that Ruth's confidence was gradually increasing as she failed about in random bursts of attempting to not fall on her face or any other part of her body.

Pam glanced away from the girl and towards untouched stretch of ice in front of her. Barely a foot away.

Lucky her. She'd forgotten what she'd come here for.

She shifted forward at long last, one skate sliding into the ice with an easy scrape.

Oh.

That never got old.

Her weight settled comfortably between her two skates as she glided forward easily. Cold air rushed part her face, sharp and chilling, and for a moment, Pam just moved.

The metal hummed warmly under her as she gathered speed, letting herself forget about the world around her for a moment and revelling in the familiarity of her surroundings and the activity she was currently engaged in.

The sunlight bent around her, and Pam laughed, unrestrained, unable to help it.

She hadn't realised how much she'd actually missed this.

The distance between her and her best friend had increased considerably since she'd stepped onto the ice, she noted once she'd stopped spinning.

Ruth was still making her slow and valiant journey across the lake, arms jerking outward occasionally in an attempt to maintain balance.

Pam was overcome with a sudden urge to attack the girl with a hug.

Which, considering the place they were would not be welcome.

Nevermind then.

Pam caught up quickly, gliding around her friend in a half-loop and coming to a stop in front of her, at enough distance to not startle the girl or bump into her.

"You're still alive." She declared the obvious, voice alive with unbridled joy, "I'm proud of you Rue. Inspirational work happening here. Really."

𝓣here were several reasons why Ruth gravitated towards @Pamela Graham, one of which could be seen as soon as her best friend swept past her on the ice, her blades catching the light.

For a moment, Ruth forgoes the flailing arms and intense concentration on balance to simply stand still and stare. The Hufflepuff carving through the ice had glitter in her blonde curls. She had sunshine in her grin, music in her laugh. For a single moment, Fairchild was breathless at the sight.

Palm Sugar was in her element.

How do you achieve such grace? Inquisitive, guiless questions arose within Ruth as she dipped her gaze back to her own skates, watching them coast one after the other. Soft plumes of cold air slipped past her increasingly chapped lips with every exhale, a visible sign of her unconscious breathing. The trees flanking the lake offered shade on a small portion of the natural rink, an area in which Ruth was unfortunately located. Her motivation was spurred by a yearning to reach the light, where Pamela was currently sketching circles into the untouched ice.

Left, right. Left, right. A silent mantra took shape in her mind as she listened to her blades scratch across the dark surface. Beyond the lingering fear of splaying all over the place, there was a certain calm that took over. The sensations of her skates thrumming, the biting cold nibbling at her cheeks, the distant sound of Pamela’s chuckles and the whisper from the movement on ice.

This momentary bliss was swiftly broken by the flash of white that circled Ruth before stopping short a few metres away. Ruth lifted her gaze from where she had been staring down at Pamela’s skates to meet the smile on her best friend’s face.

“Goodness me, thank you so much,” Ruth replied with a smirk of her own, the reply dripping with teasing sarcasm. “I’m surprised myself.” She glimpsed past Pam to take in the fine lines of white contrasting with the blue. “You could hardly contain yourself, could you?” There was undisguised wonder and admiration in her voice. To further emphasise, Ruth stretched her arms out wide. “I want to learn how to twirl and spin too – put these skates of mine into good use, you know. Could you teach me? Please?” While the path she found herself taking contained ambiguous risks (involving more flailing), you couldn’t stop the badger from her eagerness to learn new things.