• a chance encounter •

[constance barrington]

After spending an hour down in the dining hall for dinner and conversation, she returned to her room where she was welcomed by the silence and warmth that emanated from the fireplace. Constance had no plans for tonight or the rest of spring break for that matter. She was just glad that she had some time off and that tonight she could spend it not having to worry about grading papers or taking her students out to do some observations in the sky. As much as she loved her job and sharing her experiences with her students, it began to wear her down toward the end of school term. It was a good thing break had started awhile ago. She couldn’t wait for another vacation, even if she didn’t have any plans. Though she did sort of consider returning to England to visit her parents. Constance missed her mother and father, but it would be nice to see William since he was back into Quidditch, but she hadn't been keeping tabs on his games recently. She’d also like to hear word from Ainsley, if that were possible since he was still traveling around with Jillian.

Everyone had their own schedule these days and sadly Constance didn’t have one at all. She lived day by day just letting things come as they go. Though if she had a schedule of her own, it would be strict and boring, and very unlike the unexpected things that she comes across nowadays. Well if only she were that lucky to encounter such an occasion.

But alas she entered her room and closed the door behind her, slipping off her shoes to the side and crossing the room as every candle wick lit up to provide the room a soft visible glow. Constance took a seat at the edge of her bed where she then pulled off her black socks and tossed them in the hamper. She fell back on her soft comforter that enveloped her and she turned over on her stomach. She could have turned in for the night and lay in bed while reading a book, but as she looked over at her clock on her nightstand, it was still too early. If she had stayed in early then she was certainly old and had a boring and uneventful life. That isn’t true because she was still quite young in her mid-twenties and she used to have a lot of fun. Too bad she didn’t have her best friend here to go out on any night to the Grub Pub for a night cap. Her brother was no longer here either to share some of his old and yet interesting stories of playing professional quidditch. She missed the playful banter between the two and picking on his numerous exes that he collected over the years. There were a lot!

It really is a shame she had no one left besides her brother Joseph. As if he was great company, the little twerp! Constance and Joseph tolerate each other, but outside of their professional facade they keep for the school and students, they always fought. They mainly fought because she had to clean up his mess of pranks after dealing with them, also because he was cocky and went after her friends during their school days at Hogwarts. He really is a jerk.

“I have no life!” She grumbled into her pillow and went limp in her bed. She felt like some pitiful teenager that was depressed and all that she lacked was a tub of ice cream, cookies, and soda. Too bad she had already let herself go into all those sugary snacks the night before. Two nights in a row would screw up any chance of keeping the slender figure she has maintained all these years. However, there was another way to execute her dilemma and as she rose up from her pillow and looked back over her shoulder to the closet, a smile crossed her face. The astronomy observations may be over, but she could do some on her own. Also she could use the opportunity to fly on her broomstick that has been collecting dust over the months. She felt bad for not keeping it up in good condition when it was practically one of her prize possessions she's kept since her quidditch years at Hogwarts. A lot of good memories were made on that broom, mainly winning matches against other teams or beating her brother William at a race.

Constance dressed down more comfortably in a pair of skinny jeans, t-shirt, and sweater. It may be spring, but the weather was still a bit chilly-especially at night. Constance pulled her long tresses into a loose pony-tail and grabbed for her dusty broomstick. Good thing she kept a polishing kit just in case. After cleaning and maintenancing her broomstick, she took a smaller traveling telescope with her and left her quarters. Even though the school didn't have a curfew during breaks, she noticed how quickly students would move out of her way to be unseen. Constance really didn't care because no matter how much she would enforce rules or regulations on students, they were going to break them. Leaving the hallways and the school in a quick fashion, she mounted her broomstick and kicked off the ground hard, shooting straight up into the night sky.

It literally took her breath away, but as soon as she felt her lungs swell with air again, Constance sped off towards an open field. She hadn't felt this free in a long time, or this high off the ground. She steadied herself first, finding a comfortable position before she started using her telescope to seek the lasting meteors of the Lyrids. It's a shame that she had missed the peak of them last night, but getting just the last bit would be fulfilling enough for her.

---

tag: November Worth

[N, Worth]

November’s idea of diversion swept away off his hands, just by the time Nathaniel slipped outside of the dorm, leaving him all by himself within those imprisoning walls. His mate said nothing but farewell as he mumbled something about skipping sleep and heading outside of the Palace. Even when it was summer, curfew boundaries still linger amongst those who knew about breaking the rules, thusly, it was more of the tradition of doing it and the thrill than actually violating regalement. Worth stood still, sprawled on his bed as he contemplated the vastness of such, glancing at the pending coffin where his violin was kept, aiming a stare that was quite unable to be deciphered. As of late, November’s temper had gone from exultant to sullen in no time, and the principal reason behind it lied concealed in the depths of his thoughts, where no one could ever go or dare to step into.

For the most reserved bloke, November withheld such variety of secrets it was uncanny anyone could know what he was up to or why, thusly, it was best to not attempt to decode him and just let him be as he was.

The Sournois dormitories felt as deserted as his notion of satisfaction was, just tipped down towards his whims, which weren’t exactly pure and edged more towards lewd deems. It was that time of the year where the hormones struck every cell of his body, and where he couldn’t do anything but to resist the urge to shovel down his pants to release the tension. Nonetheless, there were other methods to ease the anxiety and to soothe himself down without it. Within the odds that surrounded it, November could just think of sprinting, jogging as far as his legs permitted and unleash the might that had been stored in.

“Fancy a running?” the twat asked to himself, crawling to the verge of the bed as his feet landed on the solid ground before nudging the dangling object by accident, causing it to sway back and fro before halting past a couple of spins. ‘This always makes me queasy, why do I even keep it there?’ having his musical instrument close was a penchant of his, but the need of an alternative way to do it was urgent. In his wish for absconding, the bloke rolled on a tight v-neck tee, which marked his slightly fit frame, as he maintained it from occasional trotting during nights. Not minding a hand through his locks, the bloke was pretty self-assured that his unkempt aspect wouldn’t drive attention to him, so he just left his mop intact prior to abandon the room, until his eyes were set on a practical object that for some bizarre motive they had always neglected as pertaining to the place itself. ‘Nate’s broomstick’ he mused, fixating his gaze upon it as he squinted lightly.

Eschewing the usual corridors, the bloke knew the route by heart as he skipped off through the floor attached to a slightly noticeable element he was carrying with himself. Novemeber hadn’t felt the rush of mounting a broom and soaring the skies, until now, and the sentiment had beset him in such a way that it just sufficed to make him grasp it and flee. If something ever happened to the Nathaniel’s precious possession he could just shake his head in denial at not admitting he was the burglar. He shrugged the thought off as he oozed down his path to the outtakes, catching the dashing glimpse of a familiar face in the move. November’s brows furrowed with disbelief as he watched the professor practically tiptoeing as the rest of the fugitives did. Such onslaught of curiosity couldn’t be overlooked at, so he just decided on persecuting her to wherever she was going to.

Past the exiting doors, the woman flew across the starlit heaven surmounted on her broomstick. It was pure luck that the bloke had attained his own, even when it didn’t belong to him. It was fickle for him to do such thing, as the last thing he had ever envisioned was himself on a flying contraption, but it served him well for his purpose now, thus he couldn’t deny the impulse of just striving at it.

Having a bash, the bloke put the instrument between his opened legs and hopped a little, expecting it to hover magically. The ancient youth had never felt the need to acquire knowledge as to flying, so it never occurred to him to instruct himself on the skill. Talentless, he almost barged to the ground as he intended to lift, causing the broom to shake violently and vigorously as it began floating just a few metres from the grass. If he was to lose sight of Constance, she would just escape out of tracking and he wouldn’t be able to know her whereabouts. The bloke took a tight grip of the hilt and just leant downwards to let his torso reached for the stick, as to clinging to it. It finally stopped from wiggling and stood still, just to turn upside down, plunking him down on earth with a heavy blow.

‘This is preposterous’ it plagued his mind as he rubbed the damaged parts from the fall, seeing almost no sign of Constance in the sky. Luckily for him, he saw the direction she was heading to, so he could just endeavour to find her somewhere in the same imaginary line, just wishing she was visible from the heights.

November scowled at the broomstick before sighing deeply and observing it land safely on the ground. For the strangest idea he could contrive, he moved forth and just shifted beside it, hoisting his hand as he randomly said “Up” as if such thing could work- which surprisingly for him, it did. Astounded, the bloke just tried to mount it again, having best luck at making it suspend itself at more meters from the surface, reaching a level that permitted him peek through the top of the trees, peering with detainment through the foliage. Somehow this made the broom to advance just a few meters ahead, making him fathom, or believe he had done so, the manoeuvres needed for flying. And so on, little by little, with short leaps of the hovering thing, he could make it to an open field, where, strangely was settled a human figure, which he assumed belonged to Constance.

‘Once you’re up… it’s never easy to go down… is it?’ the dolt hadn’t considered the need to lower his flight, as he just thought of going as high as the blooming thing would lift him. Kicking in a desperate way to oblige it to cede to gravity, the bloke began a frantic sequence of movements which hoped could aid him in his landing, causing him to incline downwards, precipitating rapidly into the chasm below, forcing him to readopt his former posture to make the thing to halt abruptly just practically about to collide, shoving him backwards to end up in the midst of a cluster of bushes - coming out of it as he witnessed the broomstick hitting the hard surface with a slightly cracking sound.

The Sournois rushed to its very position and let relief filled him once he saw there was nothing wrong with it, except some scratches he could easily vanish with a spell or two. ‘Nathaniel won’t even know’ it comforted him in a sort of cynical manner that only a scoundrel as him could mind as nothing.

Grasping it firmly within his grip, November could finally detect the exact location of his victim, standing a few meters in the distance, aiming a telescope upwards. This actually seemed like her, so there was no chance of error in here. Stealthily the bloke slid on his footsteps as he approached the sat lady, by coming from behind, embracing her from her back as he gently covered her eyes and craned her neck backwards so his lips could mould to hers, careful of not hurting her with the telescope she was clasping. This would make her infuriated, but as soon as she found out whom he was, she would let it pass.

“Hello, love…” he mentioned, her eyes still covered by his palms.