The Eagle and the Snake

He slipped his hands into his pockets as they left the relative warmth of the castle, making their way downt he gravel path that led to the Black Lake. They ambled at an easy pace, neither of them particularly willing to divert from the little distraction from school that they'd created. Truth be told, the library was beginning to become oppressive anyway. He was beginning to associate it with hours of tedious research now, rather than a place where he could come to escape from the crowds of people. The Ravenclaw common room was usually a quiet place, but it was always busy, particularly around their own private library. It wasn't really as comfortable as it could be either, certainly not as nice as the Gryffindor common room, from the one time that he'd been in there during his brief tenure as a prefect.

Finally, they sat themselves down, the grass still dry from the week of good weather that they'd had. The last vestiges of their Indian summer were now fading, but they were going out with a fight, that was for certain.

"It's fine." He glanced around, appreciating the stillness and tranquility around him. There wasn't that ubiquitous buzz of chatter that permeated the corridors, nor the frenetic pace that followed people around everywhere they went. He felt as if this was a place where he could just...be. "I like it...it's quiet, relaxing."

He followed her cue and leant backwards, lacing his weight on his elbows with his legs stretched out in front of him. They seemed to have an understanding that neither of them particularly wanted to return to the world of OWLs and History just yet, but simply relax, perhaps in each other's company. They did seem to be getting on well enough, which was rare these days. So many people were polarised, they simply failed to just see people as people. It was always with labels, unfortunately. Slytherin, Gryffindor. Light, dark. He was just Charlie.

"It's lovely, for November. I expect it'll be getting colder soon though." He agreed, surveying their surroundings again. "You know...I never actually thought to come round this side before. Strange how you can miss things that are right in front of your eyes." He grinned as she mentioned Pince's hawkish eyes, thankful that he wasn't the only one that thought so.

"Yeah, she's not going to win Witch Weekly's most charming smile award, that one. You have to wonder what makes a person so bitter." He cleared his throat, turning his head to look at her. "So, Amara Wolfe." He began, "While we're procrastinating, tell me something about yourself."

"Of course," He replied, returning her smile. "Places like this are hard to find." It was true. So much of the world was so frenetic these days, so little time was dedicated to just...being, rather than doing. For Charlie, moments like these mattered more to him than things which typically defined people's lives. He didn't think that life turned direction in the ways that matter when an exam result was received, or a job offer accepted. It was moments like these, in his view, that people really made their decisions. That people really reflected on themselves. That they really shared moments with another person.

Of course, he had a tendency to be a bit of a romantic like that. Not that he'd ever say it out loud, of course, but that was just him. He glanced at her offhand comment about people's general perceptions of Slytherin students. Granted, the stereotype was reinforced by a not-insignificant and very vocal minority...but he often wondered if that was a reaction in itself.

"That's just rubbish, though." He said quietly. "I've had family members in Slytherin, friends in Slytherin." He shrugged, picking a blade of grass and rolling it idly between his fingers. "Does that make me horrid? The Sorting Hat hummed and hahed about placing me there, but I'd like to think I'm not a bad person. People just like to believe what they hear, more often than not I think. Not what the reality actually is."

He sat in silence as he listened to her speak, content to absorb what she was saying to him as the lazy, dying light of the afternoon laid its glow over them as they lay in the grass.

"That's the reverse, I suppose." He said, as she talked about her family's prejudice. "Every group of people has their bigots. I've never seen anything much different between pure, half or otherwise, in all honesty. Too much focus is put on labels, I think."

Vaguely, he wondered why he was finding it so easy to talk to this girl. He wasn't antisocial by any means - he actually had quite a lot of friends from all the Houses, but he rarely talked politics or lifestyles with people. He found the subject too divisive, particularly in the current climate. In all honesty, Charlie was happy just to get on with things and stay out of other peoples' wars as far as he could. He supposed Amara just had that effect on him. Quite why, he'd puzzle out later. For now, he was glad of the company (and of course, it didn't hurt that she really was quite beautiful).

"Who is Charlie Ender?" He chuckled, bringing one leg up and bending the other around it, leaning all of his weight on one elbow as he turned towards her slightly. "I dunno, depends how much you want to hear I guess. My father works in the Ministry, legal departments. He should be sitting on the Wizengamot really, but it's an unspoken rule that it's a Purebloods-only club. He might get an invite soon though, we're probably more pureblood than most half blood families out there, in as much as it actually matters." He said the last part without bitterness or resentment, just a slight tiredness. He'd never been one to deny who he was. He wasn't a pureblood, that was for certain. His mother and father were both about three parts wizarding bloodlines, and one part muggle, so they weren't quite in the upper echelons of society, despite the family name. In the same vein, they were a bit too high in the social order to be fully trusted by the muggleborn factions as well. He supposed that was an odd situation, but they'd all given up being bothered by it a long time ago. People could like him for who he was, not his blood heritage.

"My Mum...she left when I was young. We never really knew what happened to her, she just vanished about eleven years ago. I've got a sister named Kathryn, she started this year. Gryffindor, like my Dad." He paused for a moment. "My Mum was Slytherin, I'm Ravenclaw, my grandparents were both Hufflepuff as I remember. We're nothing if not a family of mixes." He tossed the blade of grass away finally, glancing up at her with a slight smile.

"Me? I play Quidditch from time to time. I'm not on the team or anything, I was never that good. I just like it. Kenmare Kestrels fan. You follow Quidditch at all?"