Family letters pv Flac Flintshire Closed

"Oh, no, you misunderstood. I do not own an owl. My mother has one and my father has one. They need them for their work, so I could not have one. But you are right, I have to use the school owls. That can be a bit difficult, sometimes, but works for now." Flac corrected. Then he just listened, till she introduced herself.

"I am Flac. Flac Flintshire. It's nice to meet you, Opeila. My mother was in Slytherin and she loved it." Bringing a bit of positivity into a conversation about houses could never hurt, he figured.

With that out of the way he moved closer to Opeila, offering her the bottled flame. "I think, you need it more urgently than I do. If you hold it, it will warm all of your body." Eager to comfort Opeila wherever it was in his power, Flac tried not to stare at her, but to find something personal he might complement. While checking for something like this he simultaneously thought about Opeila's words. He was not sure, wether it was a good idea to ask further questions, so he only offered an open ear, only, that his sentence did not went as smoothly as planned: "ehm... When, I mean if... So, if you want to... uhm... to talk or something..." He stopped, hoping, the girl would get it.

"Oh, no, you misunderstood. I do not own an owl. My mother has one and my father has one. They need them for their work, so I could not have one. But you are right, I have to use the school owls. That can be a bit difficult, sometimes, but works for now."
Opeila nodded, starting to understand. "So your parents are both wizards?"

She listened to him introducing himself. When he said that his mother was in Slytherin, Opeila looked at him surprised.
"Your mother was in Slytherin? How did she react on you being sorted into Hufflepuff? Mine was a Ravenclaw and she didn't seem to happy about me being in Slytherin."

When he offered her the bottled flame, Opeila was really irritated. She took it but the kindness of the Hufflepuff confused her. "Why? Why would you give it to me if you need it as well? I mean, thank you, but... Is this some typical Hufflepuff thing?"
Her confusion didn't stop her from putting her hands around the bottle. Pleasant warmth spreaded through her whole body immediately, causing her to hold on to it even tighter.
"ehm... When, I mean if... So, if you want to... uhm... to talk or something...", Flac asked her, seeming a little unsure.
Opeila froze for a second, shocked that she almost forgot about the letter for a moment. How could she?
Quickly she shook her head. "I don't. Thanks. The whole thing goes a little too deep for me to tell someone I only just met, even if it seems to be a very kind someone." Flac's kindness reminded her of her father a little, he probably would have been a Hufflepuff too.
But Opeila had learned never to trust kindness and she had learned it the hard way. That was the reason why she watched her words, as she talked to Flac.

"Yes, they are both wizards. I could not imagine to have a muggel parent. It's not, that I don't like muggel.", this part he added quickly and hoped to stress it enough. "But I can't imagine them not using magic around each other. And also we used to live hidden from muggel eyes, so that would have been problematic, too." Flac lost himself in imaginary problem for a moment. Then he shook his head and his eyes focused again, now on Opeila's face, that looked softer in the light of my flame, as most faces do.

"My mother was happy, that I was happy with my house." He paused for a second, starting to grin. "But then again, I never told her that I wanted to be in Hufflepuff and that probably helped."

He watched Opeila while she hold the bottle and smiled, as her posture eased a bit because of the warmth. "I don't need it that much. I am not really cold, I just wanted to see something despite it being dark now." He tried to explain. "I want it back when I go, though. So probably not a true Hufflepuff thing. But these things are really useful."

Her refusal to explain made him curious, but he did not ask further questions, as she stated she would not tell him anyway.

"Yes, they are both wizards. I could not imagine to have a muggel parent.
Opeila chuckled with a little sarcastic tone. "Well, let me tell you, it doesn't work. Wizards and Muggles don't work, at least they did not in the house that I grew up in."
She sighed, suddenly she was angry. Angry with her parents, who just couldn't pull themselves together, angry with her father who was to scared to give his wife's squib daughter a chance, and angry with her mother, who buried herself under her fascination with potions and now got her payback. Why couldn't she just have a normal family?
She took a deep breath to calm herself down.

"My mother was happy, that I was happy with my house. But then again, I never told her that I wanted to be in Hufflepuff and that probably helped."
That didn't help her at all. Now she was very angry. The last thing she heard of her mother was her hidden, but still existing disappointment. And now Opeila didn't know when she would be able to speak to her again. Or if she would ever be able to again. Tears pooled in her eyes, and in helpless anger she clutched the bottle more tightly.
"You are lucky, you know?" She said, trying not to let him hear, what his words were doing to her.

"I don't need it that much. I am not really cold, I just wanted to see something despite it being dark now. I want it back when I go, though. So probably not a true Hufflepuff thing. But these things are really useful."
Opeila nodded. "Sure, I will give it back." She looked at the slowly darkening sky. "We should go back soon, I guess. Before they start patrolling for curfew." Despite her words she didn't move a bit. Opeila didn't know if she could go back yet. She'd only need to see someone she knew a little and she would start to cry immediatly.

"I am sorry." Flac politely responded. "I didn't mean to remind you of something unpleasant. And I am also sorry, that you had to experience whatever you did to confirm my theory." He watched her carefully and felt bad, as she clearly experienced a lot in her family and he always wished his father would change and recognize him more often. A petty reason, he thought, to complain about family. And then Opeila implied she was in trouble for being in the house she was and his guilty conscience grew even larger. Slowly he searched his pockets for a hanky as he saw her eyes glitter with uncried tears. "I know... Or at least I think so." He tried to calm her a little.

Following her thoughts on leaving he nodded. "Probably you are right. But I don't think, that they will start to look for students in the owlery. And even if they find us, I will just think of a quick excuse and you can tell it. I am really bad at lying,", here, he turned a bit red, "but I think of excuses pretty fast. And you don't look like you want to go to bed now, am I right?"

"I am sorry. I didn't mean to remind you of something unpleasant. And I am also sorry, that you had to experience whatever you did to confirm my theory."
"I don't want your pity.", she said when she saw his look. Damn. She really didn't mean to be rude. Why couldn't she just control herself, even when she was angry? "I mean....", she added quickly, "Don't feel sorry. It is not like you could have known."
When he took out the hanky, Opeila just shook her head and quickly removed the tears with her hand. She wouldn't be one of those girls that get overemotional when talking of their rough times.

"Probably you are right. But I don't think, that they will start to look for students in the owlery. And even if they find us, I will just think of a quick excuse and you can tell it. I am really bad at lying, but I think of excuses pretty fast. And you don't look like you want to go to bed now, am I right?"
Opeila chuckled when he confessed that he was a bad liar. "That is a Hufflepuff thing, isn't it? Don't worry, if they actually find us, I can lie.
And yes, you are right. I don't really want to."

Quietly, Flac endured her anger, then waived his hand to signal her, that he did not mind her harsh words. Then he decided not to respond, as she seemed reluctant to speak about her family anyway.

He shrugged, as she also denied the handkerchief, looking at the pink fabric for a second. "It is not mine anyway, so if you need it, just say so. I will not miss it and your sleeves might thank you for not using them instead." He smirked at the idea of a sleeve's feelings, then got serious again.

"I don't know, actually. I mean, it is sometimes better for a friend or any person if you can lie. For example, when they ask, how they look or something. But it doesn't matter at the moment, right?" He was quiet for a moment, thinking, then he pointed at his scraped knee. "If somebody comes, I just ly down quickly and you tell them you were about to go to bed, when I ran in her, fell down and now my knee hurts to much to walk and you did not want to leave me here alone, ao you stayed. Are you fine wuth the story?"

"How can you stay that calm? I couldn't.", she said disbelieving. Opeila couldn't understand him just quietly enduring her anger and then even offering her a hanky. She had denied it, not only because of her pride, but also because she would have felt bad if she took it.

"It is not mine anyway, so if you need it, just say so. I will not miss it and your sleeves might thank you for not using them instead."
Opeila looked at her sleeves, a little amused. "Don't worry about my sleeves, they will survive it. Keep it, it's yours. I will only lose it.", she said, calm now. Again she searched the sky for an owl, but of course there wasn't anything. "What do you do when you get bad messages? How do you react?", she asked the Hufflepuff.

"I don't know, actually. I mean, it is sometimes better for a friend or any person if you can lie. For example, when they ask, how they look or something. But it doesn't matter at the moment, right?"
Opeila thought about that. "If someone asks you about his look, you are not supposed to lie. What if that causes the person to make a fool of himself in public? It would be your fault if you lied. If someone would lie to me in a situation like that, I would be angry. But yes, it doesn't matter.

"If somebody comes, I just ly down Quirin and you tell them you were about to go to bed, when I ran in her, fell down and now my knee hurts to much to walk and you did not want to leave me here alone, ao you stayed. Are you fine with the story?"
"Sure." Opeila smiled. "That's weird. You can't lie but you can act? Isn't that almost the same?" The Slytherin shook her head. "I don't get you, Flac Flintshire." She chuckled again.

"What should I do instead? Scream blood and murder? Be sulky like a little kid and not talk to you anymore? You did not say anything that bad, after all." Flac shrugged, then the topic was ticked of the list for him.

"Actually, it is Lark's. But I should give it back anyway, so maybe you are right." Still, to Flac, it felt not right to just let her use her sleeve, when he had a perfectly fine piece of fabric which only job it was to be used in this instance.

Her question threw him out of his balance for a second, then he answered calmly: "I think I never got that bad of a message. But one of my dogs died a few days ago and even that had me crying my eyes out while feeding the crows. So I think I would be a complete mess." He was not embarrassed at all to tell this to Opeila. There was nothing wrong with crying over a loss, he thought.

He had more problems confessing his lack in acting skills to her, but he did anyway, quickly adding: "But my knee actually hurts. Like, not a lot, but enough to convince someone that I am in pain, you understand what I mean?"

"I don't know.", Opeila said, when Flac asked what he sould do instead. "But most people wouldn't stay nice if they had to deal with an angry me for more than five minutes." She smiled a little.
"Lark? Can't say I've heard that name before.", she just said, instead of asking why he had another persons handkerchief.

It comforted Opeila a lot when he said how he reacted to the death of his dog. "Sorry to hear. Are you alright?" Suddenly she felt very bad. She was getting mad over some fear that was only partly getting reality while he actually had lost someone close to him. Opeila didn't know what she would do if Hardin died. He was the one who kept all her secrets, who she told everything that keeps bothering her.
She would be a mess.

When he said that his knee hurt, Opeila looked at him surprised. "What do you mean? Are you-? Do you need help? Do you want the nurse to have a look at it?"
She said a little helpless, feeling worse every second. Selfish little Slytherin girl, that's what she was, right? Worried she looked at the Hufflepuff, waiting for his answer.