September 11th, 1890 — Hogwarts Corridors, near the Great Hall

Late to sleep, early to rise—it was the worst type of day, and one that he'd expected to not have to deal with until September's end. He was used to being carried through the first few weeks of school with unrealistic optimism and adrenaline, but it seemed fifth year was the cutoff for that boost. Maybe he'd gotten too used to being back at Hogwarts, which was a strange enough thought in itself.

Upon second thought, he may have managed another hour of sleep, if not for the startling pain he'd awoken to that morning. He'd made it to the bathroom quick enough to see the streak of blood down his cheek from rubbing his face, and within ten minutes he was cleaned up, dressed with a list of complaints.

"Biiiixbyyyy," he called from the down the hall, spotting the tiny brunette in the group of students that were headed towards the Great Hall for breakfast. "Sloane Biiiiixby," he called again, just as she slowed and the group of students carried on down the corridor without her. As he approached, he gave her a serious look that was quickly broken by a half-smile.

"Look at my face. Look at it." He pointed to the red streak down his cheek with a raised-brow expression that said you should know what this is.

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Sloane Bixby

  

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Sloane was not a natural morning person, but the first couple weeks of school, with the excitement and the newness, even in fourth year, was enough to propel her from bed and to the great hall for breakfast. With a long braid swinging behind her, she'd joined Wally and his friends on the walk down to the Great Hall, but was interrupted by the call of a familiar voice, yelling her last name across the hall. She must be in trouble.

She paused mid-stride, passing her brother a bemused smile as she waited for Cameron to catch up. Well that was quite clearly a cat scratch. Reaching out, she brushed her fingers just beneath it without thinking. "Splash? Sorry, I'll try and cut her nails." Not an easy task, as the cat was going to be half her size by the time she was fully grown, but, she'd try. Maybe Alice or Sisse could help.

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The following 1 user Likes Sloane Bixby's post:1 user Likes Sloane Bixby's post
   Cameron Gillenwater

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Though not at all uncaring, "tender" was not a word that fitted Sloane's typical fiery disposition in Cameron's opinion—hence his surprise when her fingers reached to brush against his cheek. He had expected a witty comeback, a smart ass comment about how he must have deserved it, or even a question of what it was; instead he was greeted with an apology. He almost felt guilty for approaching her with what seemed like a complaint, because he'd only intended to start a conversation the way he knew best: with light banter. Now he was all too aware of the tingling on his skin where she'd touched his cheek, and for a brief second he could do nothing but stare at her with parted lips. Fortunately he was able to recover his senses without looking like a fool, though he still felt like one.

"I don't know why she decided to take refuge in the boy's dormitory that early in the morning," he said with a chuckle, unsure of what other way he could respond without sounding embarrassed or pathetic. "You'd think Selwyn's presence would unnerve her." But now that he thought about it, maybe he could train Splash to unnerve Selwyn; he chuckled at the mental image of Selwyn creeping through the dorm as Splash stared at him with teeth bared and claws out.

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"Mischief and mayhem, that's about all she's good for." Since rescuing the kitten a couple of months ago, she had proved to be a feisty little spitfire- not entirely unlike her primary caretaker. Sloane was hesitant to call the fluffballl hers as it had been a group effort to save her from the lake, but Splash did spend the majority of her time in the girls' fourth year dorm. When she wasn't terrorizing the boys, apparently.

"I bet Alice could patch that up, but I didn't see if she was still in the room before I left or not, so you'll have to track her down." While Sloane hunted the cat down for her trim. Later of course, classes first, the only real drawback to school, despite it being their entire reason for being there.

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"She fits in just fine, then. Maybe we can train her to channel that energy to our enemies," he joked, smiling despite the fact that he could feel the sting of the scratch while doing so. It would be a painful reminder until he could find Alice (if he remembered to do so by the end of this conversation. He wasn't too worried about her at the moment.)

"I was going to breakfast, anyways. If anyone asks, I'll tell them I got grazed by a rogue quidditch player at last night's tryouts," he explained, gesturing with a hand for them to continue walking to the Great Hall. "I'm sure they wouldn't be surprised considering that lot." He'd been determined to find a chaser that fit in; they'd have to work with a pair of step-siblings who were maybe a little too in sync from backyard games of quidditch during breaks. There had been a few firsties—his little sister among them—along with more familiar names. Alcyone. Selwyn. He still needed to talk to Lilywick about everything.

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That was the truth. Splash did fit right in with their little ragtag group of friends. Sloane doubted they'd be able to train her to do much of anything, other than snuggle. That she was good at. "Maybe she thought you were Selwyn." Normally the cat was curled up at the end of Sloane's bed in the morning, but clearly she'd had other things to do today.

"Yeah me too, Wally was off with his friends though." She fell into step beside him easily enough, short legs trying to keep up with his longer strides. "You can blame me," She smirked, looking up at him out of the corner of her eyes. "It's equally as believable." Their friendship was full of lighthearted teasing and easy punches after all, nobody would even second guess it.

"How do you think tryouts went, captain?" Finding their third chaser really was instrumental to their success this year.

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Cameron made a face. "Perhaps I should be offended, then." Selwyn was taller and broader than him, and admittedly Cameron wished he could look a little more like him instead of his lanky self, but Selwyn had an air to him that repelled Cameron to the core. There was something about the way he tried to fit in despite belonging somewhere else entirely—or maybe it was undeserved cockiness. He couldn't pinpoint it. "The silly catfish needs to remember who saved her to begin with." Saved being somewhat of an exaggeration. He'd done little more than fling the kitten into the water, but hey.

His eyes followed the sound of the boy's echos down the hall. Though most of the Bixby boys were nice enough on the few occasions he'd talked to them, Cameron avoided them whenever possible. It was normal, right? He only imagine what he'd think of boys that were overly friendly with Greta, so he could only imagine what they thought of him (and Ned. Can't forget him).

"What shall I say I did to earn it this time? Maybe I rested my elbow on your shoulder," he teased, looking her up and down. She may have grown a few inches since first year, but he'd grown a whole foot. He briefly wondered if she'd always be so small. "Or maybe I tugged on your braids and asked you to turn them pink." With a quiet laugh he reached out and gave one of them a little tug.

"I think it went fine. We'll either get a friend, a foe, a family member, or a first year as our chaser. Not a lot of unfamiliar faces. I'm only wondering how Hufflepuff tryouts went. Haven't you been wondering who their new seeker will be?"

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"Yeah, me!" She chirped, laughing it off. Perhaps Splash had heard too much of her grumblings about Cameron during their last fight for her own good. Retribution from a cat. Wouldn't that be something?

At the mention of turning her hair pink- she did just that. "Hey I can do that on my own now, thanks to Ned's book, thank you very much!" It was a vivid pink too, something right out of Honeyduke's. She then concentrated and changed it purple, then green before letting it fade back to brown. "I can do my eyebrows and grow a mustache now too!" She was pretty proud of the last one, it looked absolutely absurd.

Talk of quidditch was always enough to distract her though and she sighed thinking through their choices. "Well as long as it's not Selwyn, hopefully Lilywick can sense he's bad for the team." Soane was still adamant Coach didn't have much of a say in Selwyn's initial appointment to captain. The rest of the potentials would be fine, as long as they could get in tune with Cam and Maddy.

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Cameron smiled at the sudden change to pink, but was startled—almost disappointed—at every subsequent change. Pink, purple, green, and then back to brown. It was an arrangement of colors that had never existed together before now, and Sloane's words confirmed the obvious: she could control it now. Torn between pride and the sudden tightness in his chest, he mustered a slight smile.

"I'm proud of you" he said, mindlessly touching the braid once more as if it might feel different after having shifted through a series of colors. "And how... thoughtful of him." Though his grin remained, the smile fell from his eyes. He could not help but focus on the book. Had it been a birthday present? He should have assumed she was talking to Ned over the summer, and they'd probably had a better time than he and Sloane had. Perhaps he'd given the book in person close to her birthday, and he'd given her the book. Way to be more useful than a silly bracelet! He should of gotten something similar (or at least more practical)!

The talk of quidditch was a good distraction—or it might have been if he wasn't now concerned about his own judgment. "Yeah, or else I'm going to have to deal all year with Selwyn reminding me that I'm the one who put him back on the team."

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Sloane was, either willfully or unintentionally oblivious to the subtle change in Cam's demeanor. It was hard to tell. She'd promised herself to try and not read into things too much anymore. Every time she did that, they fought and they'd agreed to work on that too. It registered certainly, but she was too busy being excited by her success with the meta changes to give it much thought. "Yeah! He sent me this homemade book for my birthday from his neighbor who is like me." It had been a thoughtful gift, something she could use to contain the changes she'd had minimal success with before.

As they entered the Hall, Sloane veered off toward the end of the Gryffindor table, though there she couldn't see any of their other friends right off the bat, so chose an empty space and reached for a plate, continuing on with the quidditch conversation easily enough. "I doubt it, he can't catch worth anything." If she remembered right. Or maybe she was just putting her own opinion of Selwyn on his inability to play anything other than beater. Either was possible.

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How much did Ned know of Sloane that he didn't? Ned was so responsible, so effortlessly nice, and—from what Cameron remembered—he'd never fought with her before. Sloane had never come to him about her worries about her abilities, and he assumed Ned wouldn't send a book without a reason to thinks he would need it. He wasn't sure why she needed to contain her ability, anyways; there were few things that brought him delight like watching her hair change colors without her knowing. It was charming! And now he supposed his list would be useless...

He let the topic die off on the tip of his tongue, focusing more on the smell of sausage and butter that hit his nose as they followed another group of students into the Great Hall. There was no Alice, no Maddy, no Alcyone, no Sisse, and—fortunately—no Ned. He sat beside her and immediately grabbed for a plate of his own, eyeing the salted scrambled eggs. He really should have found something to eat after tryouts the night before.

"I liked Alcyone's performance. She's getting better each year, you know," he commented, "although whether it's enough to make the team has yet to be seen. My sister did half-decent, too, but could you imagine? I can only imagine how Miss Bonaccord might tease me if I add my sister to the roster." He'd promised to defeat Hufflepuff this year, and he'd meant it; adding a first year was probably not the best way to do it, but he would if he needed to.

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   Sloane Bixby

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Sloane scooped a little bit of this and that onto her plate as Cam talked about tryouts. Hopefully Alcyone would make it. She had the most experience and clearly the determination to work hard for the spot, so it would make the most sense. Hopefully Coach could see that. "Hey lots of good players make it in their first year, look at Calla and Maddy." Neither she nor Cam had, but that was beside the point.

She'd been about to stick a bite of toast into her mouth when he specifically mentioned Miss Bonaccord. She faltered slightly, but regained her composure, well most of it, chewing thoughtfully for a moment to give herself time to think. "I didn't realize you knew her that well. Fraternizing with the enemy, shame on you." Her tone was light, teasing, but not quite with the usual cadence. She felt that same little ping of jealousy flare up that had surfaced this summer when pretty Miss Bonaccord had come up then as well. At least this time her hair couldn't betray her. Ugh.

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The following 1 user Likes Sloane Bixby's post:1 user Likes Sloane Bixby's post
   Fallon Gillespie

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Through a mouthful of sausage Cameron shook his head and made a noise in disagreement. "Not saying they aren't talented," he said once he'd swallowed, "but the year I tried out there were barely any older students. I was one of the older students." That had been the year he and Maddy had made the team; three chaser spots had been up for grabs, as had a seeker. It would have been more of a surprise if he hadn't made the team. "And they're up against older, more experienced students this year." Though how he'd love to watch the three other house teams, packed with older students, lose to to Gryffindor. Their roster had been skewed towards younger players ever since Cameron had made the team. It made them underdogs—until last year.

Cameron passed Sloane a confused look at her comment, as if she'd forgotten just who her friends were. "You say that as if we don't welcome Calla to our table every day," he laughed, though admittedly it could be easy to forget that Calla was a Hufflepuff. There had been more than one occasion he'd discussed quidditch strategies with her right there, only to be reminded by someone next to him.

"We exchanged letters after I was injured during the scrimmage," he explained. Self-note not to let it slip that he'd punctured his lung. "I wished her luck in finding a seeker who could out-fly you." he added, feeling the need to justify it. For some reason.

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"Calla's a different story and you know it, she and I have been friends since we could barely walk." She retorted stiffly. Exchanged a few letters. Sure. Probably without fighting too. Green was not Sloane's color and she had a hard time hiding it. Thankfully at least, if she was paying attention, her hair wouldn't turn green anymore.

Even the veiled compliment wasn't enough to help her overcome the continued mentions of the lovely Miss Bonaccord. Older, prettier, taller, still played quidditch. Ugh. Not how Sloane wanted to start her day. Gabbing a whole piece of toast from her plate, she stood up quickly. "I forgot my transfig book in my room, I've got it first, I need to go grab it." Realistically she had plenty of time to swing by and grab it, it was on the way, but she suddenly wanted out of this conversation very much in hopes of avoiding an argument.

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The following 2 users Like Sloane Bixby's post:2 users Like Sloane Bixby's post
   Cameron Gillenwater, Hermia Bonaccord

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In the past, he may have been oblivious to her sudden stiffness; now he was almost too aware of it, and he began to backtrack his comments in his mind. Surely she wasn't that mad about him befriending an opposing quidditch player! She was competitive, sure, but he never imagined her the type to turn away from a friendship when it was offered. It made no sense. His brows furrowed as he watched her stand up, and when she turned to leave he reached up and wrapped his hand around her wrist.

"Hey," he interrupted, both voice and brows softening, "I've got one on me if you need it. I needed your help with one of the questions, anyways." He glanced back and forth between his back and her face, his expression a mix of confusion and worry.

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"I don't think it'll look very good to show up without my own barely a month into school," She protested weekly, feeling the blush creep into her cheeks; which she could thankfully will away now. She could feel his bracelet dig into her wrist where he had grabbed her and she was very aware of the sudden little skip of her heartbeat.  "My notes are in it too, I can't let you copy them if I don't have them." She added, thinking it would hopefully strengthen her argument. Transfiguration was her best class, which made no sense, but she was good at it too, so she liked going and she wanted to make sure she was prepared. Plus it was easier than trying to deal with this onslaught of emotions she really didn't want to filter through right now.

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The following 1 user Likes Sloane Bixby's post:1 user Likes Sloane Bixby's post
   Cameron Gillenwater

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