Unwavering Ambitions Finished

Ariana’s concerns did not fade when the weary Slytherin boy rose to his feet. His delayed reaction time was evident, the boy’s speech slowed and only fragments of words arrived through his lips. But his mind did not part with the urgency of his status. Ariana was right, he needed medical attention before he lost consciousness. In the case he did, the girl would have to get creative in transporting him back to the castle from such a far distance. So Thomas would fight the dwindling vision to nod at her proposal to fly them back.

For the first spell Thomas has cast outside of a classroom, the boy was still riding a high from his success. He subdued the usage of magic under the belief he was not the most capable with a wand. Perhaps a false understanding, but a notion that would have him more open to using spells in the future. “I'll fly us back” Ariana declared, making the decision for Thomas and herself. He fought the desire to use the repaired broom, submitting to Ariana’s choice with a slight nod. His confidence in using his wand may have increased, as for a broom, not quite as much.

“All clear, ma’am.” As consciousness continued to depart, his humor was still intact. Ariana’s insistent tone was met by a hint of sarcasm from the boy, and a wry smile. But it did little to deter the boy from the gash in his leg, the flow of blood was not quite as heavy but still enough to seep through the fabric of his clothing, leaving a dampened dark red spot near the source. “Half-speed, maybe?” Thomas would offer one last cheeky remark, well aware of Ariana’s impressive speed and control atop her broom after she easily caught him earlier that evening.

The boy drifted to her side, taking his place behind her to mount the broom. Too preoccupied with his own dilemma to take note of the vibrating broom, or the grimace on the part-veela’s visage from her own pain. Thomas stared at the back of her head momentarily, before a realization occurred. I’m going to have to...hold on. Like, physically touch her. Icy blue eyes narrowed, as he spoke on the thoughts traveling through his head. “Can I..I-I’m gonna have to...uhm, touch you.” Assuming Ariana would verbally approve, the boy would reluctantly bring his palms to her shoulders. Fingers curled to grip the fabric of her clothes in an attempt to hold himself steady. “Ready.”