Good feeling PV Oliver Cavallo

Oliver wasn’t all that nervous. He was hopeful, mostly. It was a calm day, with a saccharine blue sky, dotted all across with cotton-candy clouds of white. The wind was chilled slightly, but not enough to shiver, just enough for a pleasant temperature. He had heard a little about broom riding, and while Oliver was unsure of his own ability, he was sure he’d be able to pick it up decently. He was already pretty good with riding horses even though his feet could only barely reach the stirrup iron; hopefully the skills would transfer.

He listened intently as the flight professor walked up and down the line of first years, each with their brooms at their side. Oliver was starry eyed to learn anything that wasn’t off of paper. It was refreshing, and he was much better with physical things than writing or magic.

Finally, the professor gave the order to call up their brooms. Oliver put his hand over the gnarled wood of the device. “Up! Up!” he cried. The broom jerked slightly, but like the dying spasms of a squirrel that had been ran over by a car. “Up!” Oliver said again.

Then, his train of thought was interrupted by the dull smack of wood against flesh from down the line. Oliver turned to look at the Hufflepuff next to him who had just gotten their broom up before anyone else. He watched as the student grinned at their accomplishment, then tossed the broom down and repeated the process.

Oliver stared for a bit too long at the movement of the Hufflepuff’s hands, to see if there was something that Oliver was missing. Or, perhaps this Hufflepuff was simply very talented?

“I don’t know, you were the first. Unless everyone else here is horrible, that’s pretty good.”

"Huh?" Cecilia jerked his head up slightly and dropped the broom in surprise, eyes opened wide. No one in classes he had joined ever tried to talk to him, beside, everyone just literally shouted “UP” the whole time. 
After a short moment of processing the others words, he blushed, knowing that the other boy must have heard he talked and smiled to himself... and was probably thinking that he was crazy…
No. He was just thinking too much.
Cecilia didn’t recgonized the voice, not a Hufflepuff then. But he knew that the boy was standing next to him since the class began. He was silence during the whole speech, Cecilia could feel the exitement and his focus on the professor’s lecture since the beginning... Which was... absolutely opposite to Cecilia’s mood, he had drifted away from the lesson more than once with worries. Especially when the teacher talked about the rule that acquired awareness of the surrounding…

Cecilia still wonders why he got to attend flying class, of course he wanted to attend it. He could still awares of the people or things around him if he focuses, but after all, he couldn’t really fly without annoy or scare other. Well, at least he still doing okay, the flying problem must be forgotten for now.

“Thanks!” He smiled, tilted his head to the voice with his eyes opened but didn’t meet the others. “May I ask who you are?” Cecilia asked as he bended down to search for the broom he had dropped

Oliver keenly felt the lack of eye contact (he was always trained to look someone directly in the eye when he was talking to them). The fact that he was denied this made him a little uncomfortable, but, other than that, he didn’t notice anything off about the boy he was talking to.

“My name is Oliver. Oliver Cavallo. What’s your name?” He would have offered his hand, but unfortunately, his companion’s was currently occupied in holding a broom, and that would have made the entirely encounter rather embarrassing. Oliver could somewhat tell from the drifting expression on the Hufflepuff’s face that he was not entirely invested in this lesson, but, what did it matter? Oliver was still attending to his own attitude.

Wait, was that what he looked like during History of Magic class? That would be horrific, although common throughout the expressions of his peers. But, Oliver didn’t want to be like everyone. As Benjamin Franklin had so implied, he would not settle for a speckled axe with which to do his work. It wouldn’t be right.

Oliver was just so painstakingly polite and respectful that it often got hard for him to keep up when he was stressed, because he just wouldn’t let up his expectations for his own behavior for a moment. It would most likely result in breakdown some time or another, but that was a problem for the future.

 
Cecilia picked up the broom and carefully cleaned the dust that was stucked in the broom’s bristle and handle when he dropped it to the ground. As professor Barnaby said, you must alway show respect to the broom. And dropping it to the ground wasn’t anywhere near respect.

Cecilia smiled bright as he heard the other boy introduced himself with a really nice tone and voice. His name was Oliver, that was a nice name… Wait… Cecilia stopped his thinking when he sensed the uncomfortable in the others voice. Did he annoyed him? Did Olive came up to him because of it? No… as far as he knew, he did nothing to annoys other and Oliver’s compliment was honest as far as he knew... Or did something about Cecilia that made the other boy uncomfortable?

“Cecilia Deaux Le! Nice to meet ya' ”

Cecilia’s smile faded a little bit as he thought that the other saw his eyes and got scared or uncomfortable. Although he didn’t know how his eyes look like. But he knew that people got scared of his eyes a lot, the peers he studied with in middle school stayed far away from him if they’re not the bullies, even his cousin was scared and cried everytime she saw his eyes (Mostly because she was quiet, Cecilia didn't know she was even there to covers his eyes with a glass or just simply closes it). Although he still doesn’t  know why the boy was uncomfortable. But still, his insecurity kept kicking in.

But he still smile to the other and closed his eyes so as not to intimidate Oliver. Keeping the cool and cheerful tone, he asked: 


“How are you doing with the broom?”

Oliver was spell bound. His eyes were silver! Like dove’s wings, or snow. There was a reverence and horror in white. If anything, Cecelia’s eyes were the most truthful he had ever seen. Nature painted itself like a harlot, because all color came from light, which in its truest form, was always white. Without matter to work with, light would tinge everything with its pallid hue. White was the purity of heaven and righteousness of wrath. If man was a moral species by nature, he would need not shy away from the paleness of white, however, its infinite cleanliness strikes a chord within him that either draws in or repulses, depending on how the man has tended to his soul. Oliver had been diligent enough with his pursuits of moral perfection that he felt secure to look upon those crystalline silver-white eyes.

And, ‘Cecilia...’ That was a lovely name, especially when paired with the (presumably) French last name. He wondered what it all meant.

"Pleasure to meet you, too."

Oliver didn’t immediately answer Cecilia’s direct question. But, he finally shook himself out of his trance. “Oh, I don’t think all that well.” He shrugged slightly, then stuck his hand out over the broom again. “Up!” The broom limply wobbled. And Oliver huffed once more. “How did you get it so quickly?”

More brooms were beginning to leap into students’ hands. This discouraged Oliver slightly, but also prodded him forward, turning his attention to whom he perceived to be the more experienced of the people surrounding him. He’d get this. He was already doing very poorly in most of his classes even for how hard he tried, he wouldn’t fail this class that he should be able to get very easily.

The teacher was currently down the line, giving encourage to someone else.

Cecilia felt better when Oliver seems to be more comfortable, even… secured? Maybe Cecilia just made that up. Maybe it wasn’t the eyes that were the problem? He still closed his eyes slightly, just for sure. He still didn’t know what caused Oliver’s uncomfort and wouldn’t risk scaring him off just because his gut is telling him to open his eyes.

“Oh, I don’t think all that well”

Cecilia could realize a short moment of silence before Oliver answered the question, a slight hint of frustration that was hard to spot in his voice.

“Up!”

Cecilia could hear the broom’s impact with the ground lightl. Shown that the broom didn’t flew too high from the ground. T here seems to be a problem, he could feel the broom’s resistance, but why was it resisting Oliver?

“How did you get it so quickly?”

Cecilia just thought about it then, how exactly did he do it? He read some books that mentioned flying and how to fly in the library before get to the flying class. He followed some instructions, but not all of it (Since some of it even tell you to jump around the broom with an eagle posture… )
Back to the conversation!

“So, let’s see how I can help you!” Cecilia smiled lightly as he put the broom gently by his side “You should treat the broom carefully and with respect. Be confidant when you chant ‘Up’ too, you should belive that you could do it.”

“Also, I don’t know if this helps. But I thought of the broom not as a tool. But a companion who would lend me ability to do things that me myself couldn’t do it” As Cecilia speak, he became more focus and carried away “Respect it as a partner and appriciate the ability it gave you, and in return, it'd be happy to work with you!”

“Up!” He shouted and the broom flew fast to his hand, he smiled “ Now it’s your turn!”

Oliver nodded slightly. So, he should treat the broom as if he were attempting to mount a horse? He supposed that made sense. Many magical items had some sort of consciousness or presence, or at least, he assumed, with the way the man selling wands had spoken about them. If wands had the ability to choose wizards, have presence of mind enough to have a preference of personality, etc., who said that brooms, who seemed equally as magical as wands to an uninformed Oliver, couldn’t as well?

So, he called himself, focusing his mind and will on changing his perception of the broom. It was odd, but he did his best. The broom was no longer an object, but a companion, a helper. He did his best to put it in equal ground with the Cavallo Ranch’s horses, with their huge, expressive eyes, quirky personalities, wisdom, and grace.

He steadied his voice, making it sound confident and smooth. His voice never really became loud, he had a bad habit of murmuring and whispering, and his father often got frustrated with him when he didn’t speak up. However, he was able to make is sound commanding, as if he knew what he was doing. Which he mostly did.

He took a breath. “Up!”

And the broom jumped into his hands obediently. “Ah, it worked!” He grinned mightily at Cecilia. “Thank you!”

Cecilia seriously didn’t know why he was nervous as Oliver seemed to take a deep breath and started to summon the broom. But he was, he even kept his breath nervously when Oliver chanted

“Up!”

The others voice became much louder and confidant than Cecilia had heard from Oliver’s last failed attempt. But was big enough and soothing, it was like a gentle but determined request. He knew that Oliver has succeed summoning the broom, it obediently flew up to the summoner’s hand, made a soft wind noise.

“Ah, it worked!” 

He could feel the genuine cheerful in the voice

“Thank you!”

“It was nothing! I just gave some instruction, you did it yourself!” Cecilia smiled genuinely at the accomplishment Oliver had made
“I’m not even sure if my instructions have actual effect, it probably was just your own effort all along” There wasn’t any deceit in his words, Cecilia thought of how he had summoned the broom but he couldn’t explains it, he told Oliver what could have been the problem, even after Oliver succeed with the broom, Cecilia still not sure if it was him who helped Oliver or it was Oliver’s determination.

But overall, he was more than happy to help Oliver, the boy was nice and lovely. Also, Cecilia just love the gentle and soothing whisper sound of Oliver's voice.

“Without instruction, no one would be able to do anything. Do you think Einstein would have been able to do what he did if someone hadn’t taught him his pluses and minuses?” Oliver smirked slightly. He wouldn’t let someone dare to get away with undermining their own contributions. He would hunt them down, kicking and screaming, until they admitted how amazing they were. They had no choice.

Of course, the metaphor didn’t really apply when it was taken into account that Oliver was absolutely garbage at math, and really, anything that was on paper. But the concept behind it still stood. Oliver’s grip on the broom readjusted as he felt the sanded wood beneath his fingers. The growth pattern of the wood was just knobbly enough to be unusable for a building project, but it had found its way into one of the most widely-used devices in the wizarding world. Otherwise, it might have been ground up into chips for particle board or something equally as sad. Wood could always be made into something beautiful. Twisted trees had more personality, and had weathered through so much more than the others. The same could be said for people. Others might find no use for a twisted piece of wood, but the right person could make something ten times as beautiful with it for its imperfections.