Catch The Snitch

A 1 on 1 WITH JAE:

Sky had had enough of today, if you asked her. She was supposed to meet with that one Divination professor, always forgot her name…Cassie? Cassander? Cassandra? Eh, not important. But…she had some time to kill, so might as well spend it on a hillside. She laid back, kicking her feet on the grass as she continued reading her stupid Potions textbook. If there was one class she hated, it was that. Eventually she got uncomfortable and rolled onto her side.

After a few minutes, the pain pounding in her head grew too much, and she covered her head with her textbook, trying her best to take a nap. And Sky snored LOUD. Tossing and turning every which way, she tried to block out the brick banging against her brain in her head. Her skin had taken un an unusual pallor, and her hands couldn’t stop shaking. She could pray to Allah all she wanted, but there was no way her curse was going away before she had to meet with Unnamed-Divination-Professor.

Turning back to her beaker, she glanced at the ingredients list, then back at the beaker with a suspicious/inquisitive look. Getting the shit her father had listed….was easier said than done.

The cool wind tugged strongly at Nigel’s leather jacket and jeans as he gunned his motorcycle’s engine, and he raced across the sky back to Hogwarts. A pity nobody could see the Royal Enfield 250CC Type 11F that he had spent a long time restoring to its former glory though; a custom-made broom compass was clipped onto the right handlebar, granting the Muggle vehicle the ability to fly and rendering it and its rider all but imperceptible to others.

High in the sky, Hogwarts Castle and Hogsmeade looked like little toys or scale models to him. Bringing the motorcycle into a shallow dive, he watched the tiny specks on the castle grounds – the students, presumably – growing in size gradually as he approached. Quickly he scanned the area for a suitable landing spot, preferably somewhere with less people and less prying eyes; he had no intention of confirming anyone’s suspicions that he owned a flying motorcycle.

A lone figure on the lawn caught his eye. Flying closer, he recognised the person as Skylar Jones, a Fifth-Year. Even from this distance, he could see that there was something wrong about her body language: the discomfort that twisted her posture, the way she was cradling her head...

The telltale signs were all too familiar to him.

Without hesitation he dropped into a steeper dive, picking up speed as he descended. At the final approach, he pulled back against the handlebars, rapidly shedding off any excess speed before touching down on the lawn to a skidding halt. To Sky, it would seem as though something invisible had gouged into the lawn and kicked up no small amount of dirt and grass.

Jumping off the still-invisible motorcycle, Nigel popped back into view as he sprinted towards the student and out of range of the broom compass’s suite of stealth charms. “Are you alright?” he called out. It was a rhetorical question, of course, but he just wanted to check if she was well enough to respond.

Before long he was by her side. She was unusually pale, and her hands were trembling uncontrollably. “How are you looking so peely wally,” he said, concerned about her well-being. “Did you miss a dose or something?”

Sky wasn’t really paying attention, mostly because she knew she had to study. A certain someone would never let her live it down if she didn’t. And OWLs, no matter how far away they were, were her worst nightmare. Therefore, she was completely unawares of Nigel barreling towards her, and scrambled back with a yelp when he did appear. Her eyes were wide for a split second, before settling back to normal upon realizing it was her professor. He was good at his job, and they shared some common….trauma, but Sky didn’t know as to what extent she could trust the guy.

She slowly got up, dusting the dirt and grass off of herself, before seeing the professor and putting her hands on her hips with a lazy smirk. Nodding, she waved her pocketbook in the ear. “Just stu-“ She abruptly cut herself off upon hearing his question, raising her eyebrows, before bursting out in laughter. “Excuse me, Professor? I think you’ve got the wrong girl. You know I don’t take that shit. It’s just really tamping, tried it once, not doing it again.” A half-lie, but she didn’t think he’d care.

She never missed a dose of her anxiety meds, but she had indeed tried the Potion…once…sort-of. She spit it out before she finished it. Even sugar didn’t help. Someone could’ve kindly informed her as to that before she decided to do so. Especially since her dad had to lie and jump more than a few hurdles to get the ingredients.

Cracking her knuckles, she glanced back up at her professor with an anxious look on her face, a rarity for Skylar Jones. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but supposedly my father says he’s been hearing chopsing about introducing anti-werewolf legislation again, that ain’t true, right?”

Nigel’s sudden entrance must have caught Sky unaware, for the student yelped in surprise at the unexpected interruption before recognising him and calming down. His concern was met with indifference, which was oddly the best outcome he could hope for: given how she was able to dismiss his concerns with a laugh, and even say that she didn’t take “that shit” and wouldn’t try it again, she was not evidently as ill as he had initially feared.

Still, Sky wasn’t in perfect health either, and she probably hadn’t taken any Wolfsbane Potion over the past week. “I could tell you how difficult it is to get one’s hands on that potion, and the lengths some people would go to just to procure ample doses of it,” he said, knowing full well that his words would probably fall on deaf ears. “But you already know that.”

Abruptly, alarm flashed across Sky’s eyes, and for a split second Nigel hoped against hope that she had come to some kind of realisation that she needed to take the advice of those around her more seriously. Alas, her mind was on something else altogether, although it was admittedly a legitimate concern for her. “You know that wouldn’t fly in the Ministry of Magic,” he replied calmly, even as he sighed inwardly. This wasn't the first time in recent history where someone was pushing for new anti-werewolf legislation, and it most certainly wouldn't be the last. “I’ve heard some rumours, but I assure you things will not change for the worse.” Nonetheless, he made a mental note to check in with his contacts about what he had heard through the grapevine; after all, this was as important to Sky as it was to him – or more specifically, his father.

He turned the topic of discussion back to Sky again, not wanting to let her off the hook until she was able to give him a satisfactory answer. It was for her own safety and well being, and it would be remiss of him as a professor if he didn’t ensure that she’d be safe when the full moon rose later that night. “Are you going to be alright tonight?” he asked gently, keeping his question vague so that he wasn’t pressurising her into accepting his help if she didn’t want it.