Before It Takes Wing PV Ellaine Weatherby Finished

Hex: #855B51 Mentions: @Campion Taylor

Notes: Word Count: 458

Watching in silence from the corner was Ellaine. She’d just been standing there, heavily leaning against the walls of the Owlery with a book in her hands, taking sanctuary in the coldness and relative silence of the space.

She’d walked up the stairs of the tower, intending to send off Arius – her owl – with a letter homewards. It was not until the moment she stood in the Owlery, with the winds wildly blowing at her like a madman through the open windows that she actually processed a very important fact: that today was a very, very windy day. Ellaine quite felt that her brother wouldn’t mind her late response, in any case, and so she decided to send it tomorrow instead.

Why she decided to stay here of all places, she didn't know, but maybe she was just going a tad bit crazy. Her plans derailed, Ellaine ended up leaning against the walls with a book pulled out of her satchel, occasionally feeding Arius while she read. The mad little owl would stare at her, offering reading advice with her little coos and whistles here and there.

She was content there for a while, and then – Ellaine was distracted away from her book when she noticed a fellow student’s struggles right in front of her. It seemed that she—? was having trouble acquiring owls to send off today.

No wonder – thought Ellaine ruefully – who'd want to fly, in a weather like this?

Sure, it wasn’t that unpleasant, but she thought that that was her “reader’s bias” for moody, cold weather talking there. The owls certainly weren’t having it. Though, at least they weren’t biting the poor sod’s fingers off, mused Ellaine to herself.

After a great amount of internal debate taking place all in the span of a few seconds, her conscience simply wouldn’t allow her to stand still. She ought to be trying to help – if only because they were fellow Hufflepuffs, of the same dungeons, of the same House. Ellaine considered her hands quite adept at tying knots and letters to owls, and she figured that an indignant tawny owl couldn’t be that far off from wrangling with a temperamental Arius on the worst of her days.

She strode forwards at a quick pace, not giving herself much time to rethink her options lest she convince herself to run away. Standing to the back-right of the stranger, Ellaine gave voice to the script she’d improvised in the few seconds it took her to approach. It was sudden, and had no greetings preceding it, but she really did not want to think of such tiring social constructs right now.

“...Would you like help?” A pause, barely a second, then she adds, “—with tying that knot, of course.”

Speech: #a38b3e Mentions: @Ellaine Weatherby

The owl was intent on being a menace. Campion was beginning to feel guilty at the prospect of sending an unwilling party out into the weather. He hesitated and sighed. "Mate, it is time sensitive. If you really don't want to go, I won't force you. I would appreciate it, though." The owl gave him an inquisitive look as if considering Campion for his manners.

Then, at once, a girl behind Campion spoke and he nearly dropped the letter in surprise. He turned to face the girl quickly, and the movement combined with a gust of wind caused his robes to flare outwards. Strands of hair blew wildly in his face, and he brushed them aside with a hand, blinking against the wind. Campion recognized the girl to be a fellow first-year Hufflepuff. He'd never spoken to her before, but had seen her around. It was Ella... Emily... something along those lines.

"Oh-!" he exclaimed. The owl gave Campion a hoot and fluttered its wings. Whether it was meant to be encouraging or mocking, he wasn't sure. Surely the owl had seen the girl in the Owlery. Campion glanced at the owl. He could've sworn the little bugger had a glint of amusement in its eyes.

Campion stressed for what felt like an hour, but in reality was only a few seconds, over the girl's name. Neither Ella nor Emily sounded quite right to him. He knew it started with an 'E' - at least, he was fairly certain. He could be wrong. What if her name was Bella? That was awfully close to Ella. Or something completely different, like Heather. Campion stared at the girl with wide eyes as he tried to think of her name, seemingly running through every name in existence. Eventually, and hopefully without her notice, Campion cleared his face of all anxiety and tried to smile at the girl.

"Oh, if you can convince it, yeah?" he said. Campion gestured to the owl with a wave of his hand. "It doesn't really want to go, and I can't blame it. The winds are pretty strong. I was just hoping to get this letter out quickly, but it might have to wait until the wind clears up."

Campion stepped aside to let the girl have access to the owl and offered the envelope to her. "You can have a go, but no worries if you can't get it. If the owl feels so strongly about not going... well, I'd feel bad forcing it."

Hex: #855B51 Mentions: @Campion Taylor

Notes: Word Count: 420

Finally catching a glimpse of the other student's face, Ellaine felt doubt beginning to bloom. Even if her memory is Not Reliable™, she felt like she'd have remembered seeing her face if she was in the Girls' Dormitory… Mentally, she scrapped all previous assumptions of the student and decided to just go with the flow.

She didn't remember their name. To be fair, there is a very high number of students in Hogwarts… Ellaine was pretty sure that they won't blame her for not remembering their name. Maybe. In any case, they seemed to be a kind person, if their attitude towards the owl's comfort was anything to go by.

Half-shrugging, she said to him, "Well, it's worth a try."

Gently taking the envelope with her right hand, Ellaine opened her satchel with the other, digging deep into the magically-enhanced space. Soon, she had three owl treats in her hand. After all, bribery worked well with her owl, and her brothers. Why not this little guy?

Upon closer inspection, she realised that she'd seen the tawny owl before – from the time when she forgot that Arius was already away delivering the letter she'd sent just yesterday, and ended up hanging here for what felt like an hour, handing treats over to the few owls who approached her. This was well to her advantage, she decided. Maybe it would feel more inclined to let her tie it?

Carefully, she fed the tawny owl a treat, then the second, and the third when it nudged her palm again. Hands now empty save for the envelope, Ellaine stared at the owl. It gave a hoot, and continued to stare at her. She felt like it was asking for more treats.

…What a greedy owl!

The name Raven, for a ravenous owl, she decided. Pulling out her fourth treat, Ellaine gave Raven a Serious look.

"…please?"

The owl made a last hoot, tilting its head to the side, almost as if laughing at her, before seemingly acquiescing. Ellaine finally tied the twine around the envelope, then secured it to its leg. She noticed that her hands seemed a bit slower than usual. Ellaine had always found that side effect of being around strangers quite pesky to deal with, and successfully ignored it this time again. Finally done, Ellaine stepped back and turned to them, carefully not looking into their eyes.

"Well—" she started, but fell silent. The awkwardness grated at her, but she couldn't think of what to say. Maybe she should've introduced herself?

Speech: #a38b3e Mentions: @Ellaine Weatherby

Campion watched on with blatant amazement at the apparent owl-whisperer before him. Apparently, he should have come equipped with some sort of snack for the ornery owl. "Uh-" he started, and stopped. What should he say? Obviously some sort of 'thank you' or utterance of appreciation was warranted. "Thank you," he said. Campion felt rather silly.

A memory popped into Campion's head without warning. In the common room, maybe in class... yes! The girl's name was Ellaine! He'd heard someone say it, once. He breathed a sigh of relief at this acquisition of knowledge. "You're Ellaine, yeah? I'm Campion. I don't believe we've spoken before," he said kindly. Then he thought, and considered the fact that his hair was still long. It would certainly have to go. How to subtly imply that he's a boy... "I spend a lot of time in the dorms, with the other boys. That's where I do my studying normally, if I'm not outside, so..."

And... it was awkward again. Campion could feel the heat rushing up to his face, his Irish complexion betraying him instantly. His hands were like burning furnaces, and he stretched his fingers out at his sides to catch some wind. Campion half-turned now with his back against the wall and Ellaine to his left. He looked towards the open window. Wait...

"Do you mind, like, sending that letter?" he remarked to the tawny owl. "I don't have anything to bribe you with like she did." The owl cocked its head and gave Campion a small 'hoo' before begrudgingly taking off out the window. It would likely return with a response by breakfast, if not sooner. He watched it fly off until it was no longer visible amongst the darkening clouds, struggling somewhat with the wind but holding its own. That's good. At least it was a strong owl.

"Well, thank you for your help," he said again. Campion shifted his weight between his feet. He still avoided looking at Ellaine, taking the opportunity to watch out the window instead. With every gust of wind, his body swayed with the force of it. It was calming, though - like being rocked. "So, what are you doing up here? Do you have a letter to send, as well?" Campion eyed the owls around him. "Unless you have more of those treats, I'm not sure you'll get any of them to cooperate."

Speech: #855B51
Mentions: @Campion Taylor
Word Count: ~350

Upon hearing his thanks, Ellaine smiled faintly and nodded his way. Campion. Ellaine thought hard about the name, scrutinising the – the boy? – in front of her, trying to attach the name to his face. Knowing that he simply remembered her moved her so, and she felt that it would be easy to remember him. This first meeting was quite a memorable one; at least it was in her books.

Curiously, she watched as Campion sent off the owl on its way. She tried to discreetly observe how his pale complexion pinked – seemingly in embarrassment. Fascination overtook her, but she pushed it down in favour of feeling the wind on her face.

Hearing him thank her again, she felt compelled to respond this time. “It’s quite alright,” she said, fiddling with the wristwatch on her left hand, in lieu of anything else to do. “It was a fun thing, even.”

Pausing, Ellaine thought on how to explain her presence, and settled for the truth.

“Well, I was going to send off a letter with Arius – the one over there, raising her left wing—” she gestured at the Great Horned Owl not far away, chittering at them, waving her left wing erratically. “—but I’m sure my brother won't mind waiting a day for the weather to soothe down. Not like he’d notice anyway.”

She said the last part with a shrug, a light chuckle escaping her. “And then I got too lazy to go down immediately, so, why not read?”

Abruptly, she fell silent, awkwardness leaving her off-kilter, feeling distinctly like she’d shared too much. Ellaine scrambled for a way to leave this odd discomfort, and took the advice her mother had given her not too long ago. When someone asked you a question, you ought to ask them back – something along that line, she was sure.

“What about you?”

…A moment later, Ellaine regretted the question. It had a very obvious answer, and said answer had just left on an owl-flight a minute ago. She hoped that he thought she meant it another way, for she didn’t quite care to rectify it.

Speech: #a38b3e Mentions: @Ellaine Weatherby

Campion observed the owl — Arius, Ellaine had said — wave her left wing almost in a humanly manner. He raised his brow at the owl then raised his own hand in greeting. Good to be polite, right? Especially if the owl were sentient. Then again, Campion had encountered a fair few owls since his arrival at Hogwarts; many of them did seem to have a certain... intelligence to them. Best to be safe.

This interaction was most horribly awkward, and Campion was growing increasingly flustered. He found it difficult to stay still and shifted between his feet, trying not to make it too obvious. Then, he realized she could see that and assume he had to use the toilet. Campion stiffened his limbs and tried very hard to stop himself from fidgeting. He had to calm down. Campion took a breath and released it by the time Ellaine finished speaking.

"Oh, um... just for the letter. It's a lot of walking and stairs to get to the Owlery, honestly," he said, feeling like he was saying too much but his tongue would not cooperate with stilling. "Well, I do a lot of walking so it's not that bad. I mean, to classes and stuff. And I walk around the grounds a lot, so..." Campion slipped his right hand into his pocket where, hopefully, Ellaine wouldn't see it so he could fidget with his hands. He rubbed his thumb along the pads of his other fingers, up and down.

"Yeah, um..." he continued, having lost the battle with his tongue. "Uh..." He was making the awkwardness worse. He needed to find a way to soothe it — calm down. Small talk was a bore, perhaps it would distract. "So, what's your favorite color? Mine's green, like moss." Or... just make it worse.

As though to rescue him, a strong enough burst of cool wind caught him off balance and set a few owls swooping as they lost their grips on their perches. Campion caught his balance well enough and quickly enough to duck just as one flew near his head. The moment was over as soon as it had come, and Campion regained his bearings, satisfactorily grounded due to the burst of adrenaline.

Campion laughed. "I have an uncanny feeling the owls don't like this wind."

Speech: #855B51
Mentions: @Campion Taylor
Word Count: 358

For a moment, Ellaine felt grateful that Campion had indulged her little question. Her eyes never strayed far from her owl – a part of her wanted to seem preoccupied, so that he wouldn't be able to see the way her eyes could never meet his, always skittishly jumping around to find somewhere else to fixate upon. But then again, thought Ellaine as she consoled herself, he sounded just as – nervous as she was. That was one thing, she supposed. Was this what she usually sounded like?

"So, what's your favorite color? Mine's green, like moss."

Outwardly, she didn't make much of a reaction, but inside, she debated on what to answer. Well, what was there to answer? Just a month ago, she'd have said red, and the year before, red, but they all change with the season. Colours were a seasonal being, to her. Or maybe it was just the fact that she tended to associate them to others. And now, she supposed that mossy greens would remind her of the awkwardly kind boy who happened to be in the same House as her.

A cold wind blew across her face, sending owls over their heads. She blinked, hands already up to her face, pushing up on the bridge of her glasses. To her right, Campion ducked in a jerky movement, just as an owl reached down to fly where his head once was.

"I have an uncanny feeling the owls don't like this wind."

Looking over at him, Ellaine replied, "Can't imagine why. It's a perfectly reasonable weather, I'd say." She… wasn't sure what she was trying to say. "At least it's not thundering outside, yes?" Though it was drizzling right now. To her, it seemed to make the skies more – Mysterious? Lovely? Who knew.

The silence, though lasting for only a few seconds, disturbed her enough to rush the words out of her mouth, not unlike how flowing water bursts out uncontrollably after having their blocked path opened.

"I like the colour of pale gold – the one nearing peach, I think. Roses are lovely in that colour. My gran loves them, too."

Speech: #a38b3e Mentions: @Ellaine Weatherby

Campion glanced outside as Ellaine responded to his own sarcastic comment. It was a rainy, dreary day. Not incredible for going outside, but that had never stopped him in the past. Every opportunity to be in the world instead of surrounded by walls was a good one, regardless of weather. Ellaine was right, though. There was no thunder, just strong wind and a bit of rain. That at least made it safe to go outside if the weather persisted after dinner, when he often walked the grounds.

He was still gazing out the window when Ellaine said her favorite color was pale gold, like some roses. At first, he was just grateful she'd answered the question in the first place. The question posed was clearly an awkward attempt at conversation. For some reason, he liked talking to this girl he'd only ever seen around school. She seemed nice.

"Roses?" he piqued. "Rose is going to be my little sister's name, when she's born. She's due next month. Mam and Dad say she'll be the last child but it's difficult to believe them. Pretty sure they said that after me, too." He gave a playful side-eye to Ellaine. "They say I was a difficult wee one."

Campion didn't give Ellaine the opportunity to respond immediately. "My favorite flower is the campion flower, obviously. It's what I'm named for. It's native to Europe. There's lots along the coast in Ireland. What's yours?"

An owl hooted nearby, clearly someone's needy pet. Campion strode over to it — not a long distance, maybe a pace — and offered a hand. The owl dipped its head under Campion's hand, encouraging him to pet it. "Well, you're sweet," he said to the owl. "I wish my mam would let me get an owl. She won't even let me get a puffskein and the lady at the pet store said they're practically invincible." Campion stroked the owl's head affectionately. "You're lucky to have a pet. I have chickens at home, but they aren't allowed inside."

Reducio

Hex: #855B51 Mentions: @Campion Taylor Word Count: 671

Notes: Whoops! better post it soon, I suppose not that I have any room to speak I haven’t finished mine …

Ellaine was strangely happy. She liked talking to Campion, his funny demeanour and all. A kindred spirit in their shared awkwardness, mayhaps, but she didn't care much to dig too deep into her own reasoning. She didn't like being too self-aware, that was all.

“Roses? Rose is going to be my little sister's name, when she's born,” said Campion.

Ellaine perked up at the mention of younger siblings – she was delighted in the common things she shared with people, and the topic of younger siblings always made her smile. And Rose! What a lovely name, she thought. If she was to be born next month… Around late May, then. The last month of spring, a herald of summer. Something tickled at her brain, and she tried to remember when roses bloomed… was it summer, or was it spring?

Although, after taking a longer look at his content face, it was sad, she decided, that Campion had to wait until the summer holidays to see his little sister. So deep was she in her thoughts, that when Campion looked sideways at her, she just instinctively turned towards him and stared at him fully. Almost unnervingly, she’d been told. Not that she realised it. That was a thing she did when she was thinking, quite different from her usual manner of shifty eyes. Perhaps it was the absence of the conscious decision that made it easier for her.

“They say I was a difficult wee one,” Campion added, and with that Ellaine finally registered the playful nature of his side-eye.

She wanted to giggle at his words, trying and failing to imagine a tiny Campion throwing tantrums. Or maybe it was something else – maybe he was constantly running away and disappearing from sight. That would have been funny – but she didn't know what to say, and so she kept silent and listened as he jumped on the topic of flowers.

Campion flower – so that was why his name rang a bell. She might've stumbled upon it once in one of her searches, but she couldn't for the life of her remember what they looked like. She pouted, and was promptly distracted by the question of her favourite flower.

Roses, Ellaine wanted to say. They were pretty, and it was easy to leave it at that. But she liked them all… She followed Campion over as he went to the owl. Watching him pet it, listening while he rambled, she quickly lost her train of thought.

“You're lucky to have a pet. I have chickens at home, but they aren't allowed inside,” he said to her, and Ellaine raised her eyebrows in a well-intentioned humour.

She didn’t think twice before she said, “I should hope not. It’d be a nightmare to wake up to a chicken screaming good-bloody-morning next to your head.”

Her mouth shut. Ellaine wanted to rest her forehead on her table. Any table, really. Her humour was odd at times, and she was not looking forward to see his reaction anytime soon, a wish she quickly accomplished by continuing her words.

“Arius was originally meant for my mum, and there was me, so she chose a well-mannered one. Easy to take care of. It was when I was – what, five?” she murmured, her eyes flickering towards where Arius perched, preening her feathers without a care for the world. “She’s something of a household favourite,” she added instead of asking the niggling question inside her head – why did his mother not want owls?

“And your chickens? How is it, having them?” Her father had said that he once had a rooster when he was a child. …She remembered him saying it died and was given away for his neighbours. She half-sarcastically wondered why.

Her eyes landed back on Campion, his hands still on the owl’s head. An affectionate owl, then. Curiously, she reached out her hand to gently touch the owl’s chest. She started to lightly stroke the feathers there, watching for any signs of displeasure.