The Stands

The stands are empty, save one boy, perched on a bench directly behind the Keeper's goalposts for the opposing team. It's chilly, but his silver and blue scarf is tucked tight around his neck, keeping him warm. His glasses are sliding down the bridge of his nose, but he doesn't seem to mind, instead he's focusing on his Charms book, which is open and in his lap.

He moves to get comfortable and turns, lying on the bench now, leaning the book against his thighs and tucking on arm behind his head.

He yawns and continues to read.

Atticuc treads lightly over the field, noting the slight crunch of the frozen blades of grass under his worn loafers. He zeroes-in on the Ravenclaw, walking a bit faster, pulling down his black and yellow scarf to free his reddened face. The cold was never kind to his complexion, and the heat was usually worse. Atticus heavily dropped himself down on the bench next to Rowan, hoping that would at least catch his attention so he wouldn't have to say anything. He does anyway.

"Good read, that?" he asked, sniffling when he thought he could feel his nose running from the cold.

Rowan's grin slips into place before he even realizes it. He sits up slightly, leaning back on his elbows to peer at Atticus over his knees.

"Oh yeah, fantastic," he drawls, teeth still showing as he drops the book. It falls to the floor of the stands with a thud as it hits the wood. "Did you come to save me from my ever dull existence? I came out here to 'study,' of course. Ever the diligent little Raven. But if there was-" he pauses for a second and pushes his glasses up, "-something you'd be interested in getting into, I would, by no means, complain about it."

Atticus snorts and jokingly mocks Rowan's intelligent tone, "You wouldn't catch me dead down here otherwise." Grinning, he bends down to retrieve the book, now a bit damp. He wipes the wetness off with the outside of his jacket and then flips through it's pages, pretending to be interested.

Rowan's grin turns into a smirk and he's sitting up completely now, swinging his legs down and placing his feet on the ground.

"Well then," he starts, and begins fishing around in his robe pockets, "I have something here you might just be interested in."

When he finally pulls his hand out, there's a small vial with something dark and green in it and an orange rectangle next to it that reads 1 1/4 in large text. Rowan waggles his eyebrows at Atticus suggestively.

Ah, another mysterious vile. Rowan's suggestive look makes him almost afraid to ask. "You always make me uneasy when you give me that look," he cocked an eyebrow, "Especially when mysterious substances are in question." Atticus crosses his arms and legs, another mocking gesture.

Rowan is laughing now, really laughing, and he takes a second to calm down afterwards before he takes out the cork. "You love it, though. Always in for a good time and you know it."

Rowan opens the orange rectangle and slides out a piece of pale paper, then he's pinching off little pieces of the green stuff, spreading it along the paper, and rolling it between his fingers, running his thumbs along the edges. As he licks it closed, his eyes drift away from the joint and over to Atticus.

"Wanna know what it is yet, or do you want it to be a surprise?"

Atticus was, literally, getting a little hot under the collar. He unraveled his scarf and placed it on the bench next to Rowan's book. "No, no, don't tell me, let's just get it over with before I over-think it." Then he hesitated. "Nothing too crazy, though, right? Should we be doing this somewhere else?"

*Down goes my post quality because sleepy.*

Rowan rolls his eyes and bats a hand at him. "Please. You think I'd let you get into any kind of trouble I couldn't get you out of, Atty?"

He points the joint in his mouth and uses the tip of his want to light the tip, staring down as the paper ignites and curls in, turning black, then fading to gray as the cherry moves closer towards him with each puff. One. Two The smoke rolls out of his lungs in cloud, spiraling out in oddly geometrical shapes that float idly by for a few moments before dissipating.

"You like the smoke effect?" Rowan grins proudly as leans over, offering the joint to Atticus. "I spent a long time developing that."

Atticus scrunched his face up at the nickname.
He took the joint between his fingers while studying the remaining smoke, grinning slightly in awe. Magic never stopped being cool. "So you just... smoke it like a regular cigarette then?" He'd smoked cigarettes a few times before, back home with his adoptive father, but it left a bad taste in his mouth and made his throat sting.

"Yeah, just suck hard, pull it all the way down, you know, into your lungs," Rowan gestures with his hands, motioning down his body, "and then hold if for a while. The longer you can, the better, but don't worry if you can't hold it for long."

Rowan looks quite pleased himself, lips curling. "I made it taste like the ocean, it's a little salty, but clean and. . . I can't even explain it, you'll just have to see for yourself."

Atticus gave a slight shudder at the thought of the ocean on a cold day like today. Pulling his wand from jacket, he placed the tip of it to the end of the joint and whispered "Incedio," creating a spark only large enough to do it's job. Atticus inhaled quickly, maybe too much so, but managed to keep the smoke down for a few seconds until he went into a coughing fit.

"Hmm," Rowan frowns, reaching a hand out to pat Atticus on the back, fingers firm against the fabric of his checkered the jacket, the one Rowan remembers him having worn for ages, "I'm going to have to work on that. I thought I worked out the coughing altogether, but apparently not."

He waits until Atticus stops coughing and takes the joint back, replacing it in his pocket. "It should only be about five minutes until it kicks in. Designed to work after one good drag.

"You wanna know know what it is, or you just wanna roll with it?" Rowan raises his eyebrow.

"I feel a bit light... headed." Atticus says, steadying himself on the bench. He let his eyes wander, attention caught by the glitter of the frosted lawn. "Huh..." It was sensation similar to that of being an animal, he noted to himself (or maybe he'd said it out loud, he couldn't really tell). Not really thinking, hyper-aware as far as the senses went.

"An animal, huh?" Rowan looks at his hands and wiggles his fingers experimentally. "That's a good comparison. It's supposed to be kind of like a toned down mix of Muggle Ecstasy and pot mixed together. All the senses heightened like the E, but nice and calm and relaxing like the pot."

He suddenly stands and looks down at Atticus, who's sitting there bewildered. "Want to go lay in the grass? It's looking awfully fantastic right now."

Atticus mentally slapped himself, but feigned a small laugh. Despite the high he still felt too embarrassed to admit that he had no idea what 'E' was. Not that he could even comprehend an explanation at the moment.

"It's wet, innit?" He bit his lip. This might be getting a little too intimate for him.

"Mmmm, you're probably right," Rowan admits, placing his hands in front of him as he stretches. "It only lasts about thirty minutes, so, honestly you should be okay. This is the second time today I've done it, I'm trying to get the spell work perfect."

He hops down do the next bench, lifting his arms out to balance, before turning around to look at Atticus again. "What's your next class?"

A tall, tanned girl draped in Hufflepuff wear walks across the damp field towards the stands in search for her fellow housemate. Ugh...my loafers are getting soaked. Gross... she thought to herself. She ran her fingers through her short, bright teal hair and sighed.

As she walks towards the stands, she sees light wisps of smoke rise from the visitor's goalposts and two blurred figures. She starts to trek over towards them.

"Ah, well," he hopped down as well, lightly patting Rowan on the shoulder, "Well done." Before he could answer he spotted his house colors in the distance. Atticus didn't suspect a member of his own house to rat him out (if caught, that is), but for Rowan... well, 'Just, loyal, and fair', right?

****

Rowan watches Atticus's eyes dart behind him as he speaks, completely disregarding the question Rowan just asked. Frowning, he turns and follow his gaze, trying to spot what distracted him.

"Fucking fuck," he mutters, leaning forward and running a hand through his hair. "You know, if it was last week, I couldn't be worried, but after I kicked some serious Hufflepuff tail on the field last week, I'm not exactly looking to test my luck."

Rowan sighs and bites his lip, gaze trailing towards the castle. "You know them? If you do, I'm gonna head on to Charms and maybe you can bandage the situation. You know, you guys could sit known and knit some socks or something, isn't that what Puffs do together?" Rowan still winks when he delivers the jab. But, honestly, he's not looking forward to a detention right now.

Furnell made him fucking write lines last week that had made his hand cramp like a bitch.

She saw her house colours and her face lit up a bit, That has to be him. I hope he remembered he was gonna help me with my Transfiguration. She slipped her damp flats off and walked across the wooden planks. As she approached she saw a Ravenclaw she's not sure she recognizes and Atticus.

She felt comfortable around her fellow Hufflepuff, but was unsure of this other character. Abigail had always been sort of quiet, yet did not give off a shy demeanor. She easily recognized the scent of the Muggle drug in the air. It didn't bother her though, it hurt no one and it was just like any other plant being used and boy did she know plants. "Hey Atticus, were you uh...still up for helping me with Transfiguration...?" she let out, her gaze falling towards her feet.


**No worries. Herbology students know where it's at.
**

Atticus forced a pleasant smile in the newcomer's direction, latching a death-grip on Rowan's shoulder. "If you think I'm going to take the fall for this, you're sorely mistaken." he said through his teeth. He hadn't been caught yet, and taking off would make them look more suspicious, he gathered.

Atticus loosened his grip when the figure became recognizable, but then turned around and punched Rowan in the shoulder at the knitting comment.

Oh thank Merlin, it was just Abigail.

He'd always get a twinge of pity or guilt in his gut when she'd look down like that. He wasn't the most confident wizard himself, but Transfiguration was one of the rare skills he held pride in. And he'd completely forgotten that he'd promised to help her.

"Oh, Abby, I'm so sorry." he said, putting his palm over his face at his own thoughtlessness. "I completely forgot."

**ghjsghgbfhdh /dying**

"Aha," Rowan interrupts, putting his hands on Atticus's shoulders and pushing the boy towards her, peering at her over Atticus's head because Atticus was so much shorter than him. "So you were the one he was talking about earlier."

Rowan leans forward, much to Atticus's disgruntled expression over being touched, and extends his hand.

"Hey there, Rowan O'Bradain. Childhood friend of this," he cocks his head towards Atticus, "fine, upstanding gentlemen. Grew up in the Land of Saints and Scholars together, we did."




**

Abigail grabs Rowan's hand and shakes it firmly. Childhood friend, huh...If Atticus trusts him I think I might be able to. "Ah uh thank you. We have had a lot of the same classes and are in the same house, so we end up running into each other quite a bit." She smiles warmly down at Atticus.

"Don't worry about it too much. Always happy to see people interested in Herbology." She tries to comfort Atticus teasingly. She worries that he'll feel guilty.

**Poor Atticus, surrounded by tall people.
**

For a split second Atticus wonders how he accumulated such tall friends. He was not jealous. Not at all. He keeps it real.

Rowan's going to embarrass him, he just knows it. Now it's his turn to flee. "Wow, look at the... sun. I guess we better get to studyin' then, eh?"

As if.



**I just looked at our heights. You guys SUCK
**