(1939-01-28) Fly Like A Pro
Details for Flyi Like A Pro
Summary: Angelus finishes practicing when Adam, Lucretia and Madeline arrive. Leoric shows up while Angelus is in the air.
Date: January 28, 1939
Location: Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts

There’s a chill in the air, and everything is still wet by the rainfall in the morning. But the lunch hour has brought out the bright sun. No club meetings, caught up on schoolwork, Angelus is dressed in his quidditch gear as he flies down from above. When the ground is only inches below him he lets his quaffle drop to the ground and is soon dismounting his self. Propping his Cleansweep Three against the stands with care, he pops open the container and drinks, taking the time to survey the field. He’s alone now – one of the last people left practicing.

Adam comes running onto the pitch, his school robes flapping behind him. He stops on the field, panting, and looks up at the sky and then around him. Upon seeing Angelus, he hurries over to him, out of breath. "Did I miss it?" he asks. "Were people practicing? Are you going to continue?"

Lucretia has her shoulders hunched around her ears as she walks out from one of the archways that separate the pitch from the grounds beyond. That she's not in the happiest of moods might likely be gleaned from her posture even from a distance, but as she draws nearer to Angelus and Adam, it'd be the look on her face that's the telling thing. Mouth pinched into an unhappy line and with her arms wrapped about her waist, she draws to a halt near them and exhales a slow breath. "Gel. Irving." And that's it, the silence filling the gaps that her words don't as her ponytail defies her mood and whips enthusiastically in the wind.

Angelus spies Adam before he’s finished drinking. The flicker in his eyes is the first response to the Hufflepuff, but the cold dislike barely lasts a second and when he lowers the container he’s smiling pleasantly at the younger boy. “Afternoon, Irving,” Gel greets with a polite dip of his head. “Just me here,” he answers with a simple shrug. “Do you have a…” A brow arches lightly as he regards Adam. “…Broom?” The third year is well aware that first years aren’t allowed to bring their own brooms to school (it was an issue in his first year after all) but is that a slightly bragging tone in his voice? Before he can say anything more, his royal blue eyes flicking onto Lucretia and his smile brightens considerably. “Black, isn’t it just a delight to see you.” And he arches a brow as his smile fades, letting out a soft hum. “Problem?”

"Hi," Adam says, beaming at Angelus and missing the look of dislike entirely. He shakes his head. "No, I have to use the school ones if I want to fly. I was just hoping to watch you practice! Unless you want to let me borrow your broom?" He looks at Angelus, hopeful, but then turns when Lucretia joins them. "Hello!" he says, but his good cheer disappears upon seeing her expression. "Oh." He bites on his lip, glances at Angelus, and shuts up.

Lucretia tightens her arms about herself, her cloak billowing a little with the next gust of wind and filters across the pitch. "No. Yes. I don't know. Do you ever go out of your way to help someone, only to be left feeling both like a third wheel and that your efforts aren't even appreciated?" The smallest frown shadows her brow and she looks at Adam, a bite of her lip given. Surprisingly, she doesn't comment on his broom or lack of, nor does she snap his head off for thinking he might borrow Angelus'. There is a slight hint of coldness in her eyes, but other than that, nothing.

"Adam! Hey Ad- oh, hi Angelus. Hi Black," Madeline greets the other two slowing down abruptly from the run at which she had been entering the pitch. Of course, she changes from a run to a /skip/. "I think I'm getting closer," she whispers to Adam when she's close enough, "To getting the piece of cloth looking right." All pink and sparkly and everything!

Angelus casts a quick glance around before he smirks. “I wouldn’t settle with those old brooms,” he states as he shrugs his shoulders lightly, as if the school brooms weren’t a pretty good quality. They certainly don’t meet /his/ satisfaction though. A brow arches at Adam and Gel hums as he considers, tilting his head lightly to the side. “See, I /could/ let you borrow my Cleansweep Two. But,” Angelus glances around again and he gives a grand gesture, “I don’t have it here.” There’s no regret in his tone and he simply smirks. “Oh well.” The arrogant, self-important statement he might have spoken about watching him practice never comes, because he’s looking back to Lucretia as he lets out a sigh. “I could name a few cases,” answers the youth. “Not everyone is as noble. Who?” he asks curiously. A sigh escapes him, but he turns when Madeline approaches and offers the girl a simple wave. “How’s it going, Evans?”

Adam watches Lucretia, unsure of what to say. He shrugs. "Well," he says, "sometimes I try to be nice to people who don't appreciate it. That doesn't make me feel very good." He hesitates. "But, er, who are you trying to help?" He grins at Madeline as she joins them, but his smile turns a bit sickly at her words. "That's great," he says, though he sounds less enthused about it than he usually would. He turns back to Angelus and points to the broom leaning against the stands. "What's that over there?" he asks, not recognizing the difference between a Cleansweep Two and a Cleansweep Three. "Can't I borrow that one?"

Lucretia shakes her head to the questioning. "I'd not be a very good friend if I told you who, I'm just hoping that it was just a mistake. You know. An oversight on their part and that they didn't mean to do what they did." A half shrug is given, along with a glance Madeline's way. Again. Nothing. There's no hostility today, but there's no warmth for the first year either. She turns back to Angelus. "Is that something warm you're drinking? I feel frozen to the bone."

Madeline gives Adam a nudge. "Oh, come on! It's going to be great!" she encourages him. She nods her head up towards the stands. "I'm gonna go work on it some more, up there. You can join me if you like." Madeline beams at Lucretia, adding sincerely, "I really hope you can help your friend, Black. If there's anything I can do, I will!" She waves to the trio, then starts moving up towards the stands.

Angelus shifts his gaze to the broom propped against the stands, and soft ‘heh’ escapes him. He smirks as he brings his gaze back to Adam. “I don’t think you can handle /that/ broom. It takes someone as skilled as me.” A hum escapes him as he regards Adam again, and he shifts slightly as he reaches out to lift his broom, twirling it around in an impressive show. “Are you a big quidditch fan, Irving?” asks the youth, though his eyes remain on the wood of his broom, checking that its condition is still grand. “Oh, what am I thinking? You didn’t grow up with the sport, did you? Oh,” Angelus adds in as he looks to Lucretia, but he nods his head understandably. “Admirable,” he states. “Especially given that apparently they aren’t being a good friend back. Just water,” he answers. “Sorry.” But he does set his broom down again and lift his hands to un clasp his outer quidditch cloak. “Here.” The fabric is light, due to making it comfortable for quidditch, but he offers to drape it over Lucretia’s shoulders. “I’m done practicing if you want to head inside.”

"Okay," Adam tells Madeline, grinning despite himself. "I'll come up in a bit." He turns back to the pair of third-years. "I'd be happy to help too," he says to Lucretia, giving her another uncertain smile. He looks back to Angelus, not sure if he's being made fun of. "I love Quidditch!" he says. "I didn't have to grow up with it to be a fan. I want to learn to play!" He eyes the Gryffindor's broom. "I could handle it. I'm really good at flying. I nearly won a race!"

Lucretia steps closer to Angelus so that the cloak easily drapes about her shoulders. "Thank you. And I don't mind staying out a little longer. I came out here to escape the castle for a little bit so if you want to show Irving just how a proper wizard handles a broom, that's fine. I'll watch from down here." There's a shift of her attention Madeline's way when the girl bounces off again and she can't help herself, but a small roll of her eyes is given behind her fringe. "I wish she'd stop trying to be my friend. You'd think she'd have got the message by now."

“As skilled as me,” Angelus repeats himself as he rolls his head back to look at Adam. “You aren’t ready for such a broom, sorry.” He nods to Lucretia, offering her a genuine smile. “Oh, I can show off my moves.” His smile widens into a grin, flashing in his eyes. “But poor Irving,” Angelus says, as if he were really feeling terrible when he looks back to Adam. “He’ll see how an actual pro rides and it might dash whatever hope he has of joining a team next year.” Humming out softly, he arches a brow before he grins and picks up his broom again. “That’s what makes being us so difficult,” comments Angelus as he looks to Lucretia. “Having to deal with all the lower classes wanting to be in the presence of someone so brilliant.” Angelus smirks, swinging a leg over his broom before he zooms off into the air.

"I am a proper wizard," Adam mutters, folding his arms across his chest and assuming a defensive posture. "And Maddie's just trying to be nice. So'm I." He glances at Angelus, disappointed, but he smiles at first. "I'd like to see," he says. But as the other boy goes on, he starts to look as though he has just been punched in the stomach. "I…" he begins, but he can't think of what to say, and he watches Angelus ride off, a pained expression on his face.

Lucretia squints her eyes to follow Angelus up into the skies, head tracking left to right as he does a circuit of the arena before she looks back to Adam. "Trying to compare pureblood wizards with muggle-borns or even half-bloods is like saying that a mongrel dog is as good as a pedrigree one. There are similarities, of course there are, but when you really think about it, they are completely different. That's not to say that you're a bad person, any more than a mongrel dog is a bad dog, it just is what it is." A small shiver is given and she turns her back to the wind, letting in run around her like a river around a rock. Immovable. Implacable.

Adam and Lucretia are standing on the quidditch pitch, Lucretia quite subdued from her usual self. Angelus has just taken off on his broom and is circling overhead, allegedly showing Adam how a professional, and pureblood, handles a broom.

Nicknames have a way of taking on a life of their own, and Leoric is owning his today. As Angelus flits into the air, the older Selwyn twin storms through the sky at high speed, skimming past Angelus just far enough away to be safe as he zooms past in a rapid, tight spiral towards the pitch and an eventual landing.

Angelus’ grin is wide as he flies through the air; the chilly wind breezing past him and making him shiver a little. The icy air is a bit more biting with the lack of his outer cloak, but he doesn’t fuss about it. But the youth is intent on really showing off, so he all but blurs through the air as he speeds. He doesn’t go fast for long though, because the control gets more difficult, so once he manages to veer around the hoops, and spins as he grips with his knees and dives through the goal he slows down considerably. Slow while he gets his slightly wobbling broom back under control, his blue eyes flick after Leoric when he snags his attention. Lifting a hand he offers him a wave, flashing a grin, before he’s holding on with both hands again and flying. He manages to pull off a couple other moves in the air, but all the same he has to re-steady himself and even once inches at a crawling pace as he nearly slips off.

When Angelus touches back down on the ground, his face is red by the cold and he pushes a hand through his tousled hair to get back some order. He grins widely at both Lucretia and Adam, a sparkle in his eyes. “Consider yourself fortunate, Irving, to get a special peek on a Star.” His expression is pleasant and happy, as if what he said before didn’t matter. It’s just a matter of truth, after all. But inclines his head back and looks skyward again, seeking out the boy he saw while he was flying.

Adam watches Angelus fly, his arms still wrapped tightly against his chest. He doesn't look at Lucretia when she talks, but her words bite into him all the same. "I'm not a mongrel," he says, his voice quiet and strained as he watches Leoric fly in as well. When Angelus comes back to the ground he just jerks his head in a nod. "Yeah, great." There are tears in his eyes, but he does his best not to let them fall.

"I didn't say you were a mongrel," Lucretia says quietly, "I was pointing out the difference between your blood and mine." There's a glance over to Adam as she speaks, and when she notices the suspicious glitter of wetness in his eyes, she rolls her. "Oh good golly. You don't have to get upset over it, it’s just the way that it is and if you haven't realised that after a term and a half at school you likely never will. Here." She pulls a cotton hanky from her sleeve and passes it to the Hufflepuff, just as Leoric comes in to land, followed a moment later by Angelus. "Leo!" Her grumpiness seems to melt a little and she even manages a smile. "Nice flying. For a moment there I thought that you and Gel were going to collide mid-air."

Leoric swings in for his own rapid, curling landing with a flushed face and a smile. "Thanks much, Lu. I'm glad it impressed, I WAS showing off a touch." He looks about a moment, waving at Adam with a silent, puzzled look, and back to Lu. "Say- mind a walk, Lu?"

Lucretia casts another look at Adam. There's a sort of helplessness in the look she gives him, as if he's a fish flopping around on a riverbank, knowing it’s going to die yet not quite having the heart to kick it back to where it belongs. What's wrong with her today. She sucks in a lungful of air and gives a small wiggle of her fingers to Angelus. "I'll see you soon Gel, I'm going to take a walk with Leo." And without really waiting for anyone to reply, she follows the fourth year.

A hum escapes Angelus as he arches a brow at Adam. A sigh brushes past his lips, head tilting slightly. “Irving,” he states in a questioning manner, as if silently asking about the tears. But before Gel continues on he pauses and glances to Leoric, and then to Lucretia. “Oh, right,” Angelus offers a soft smile, dipping his head to Lucretia. “Enjoy,” he offers, sweeping his gaze to Leoric again and offering him short bow of his head. “Selwyn,” he says formerly, greeting now that they’re on the ground. But as the two walk off, a smirk slips over his lips as he glances back to Adam. “Feeling insignificant?” he queries on a sigh, beckoning out his hand for him as he steps near, reaching out to clap a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “It’s going to happen if you try to compare your skills with mine. Sorry, mate.”

Adam takes the handkerchief from Lucretia without thinking about it, but he doesn't use it right away. Instead he watches Lucretia walk off with Leoric and tries not to blink. He glances at Angelus when the Gryffindor says his name, but then looks away again. Flinching when Angelus claps a hand on his shoulder, he shrugs it away and stalks off, calling the older boy something rude under his breath.

“Whoa,” escapes Gel as he lifts his hand, poised with it raised for a second as he regards Adam. A hum escapes him before a smug smile slips over his face. “Oh no, Irving, I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings,” he says after him. “Now I feel just terrible.” He raises a hand to touch his palm to his chest. “Little bit of advice, don’t show Fiona you’ve been crying. She hates when a little boy cries.” Angelus shifts his broom, rising it up to support it on his shoulder as he uses his foot on the quaffle, and then bending the rest of the way to pull it up into his arms. The container he picks up after tucking the quaffle under his arm.

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