|Scene Title||Fourth Position|
|Synopsis||Moody comes upon a rested Siobhan doing ballet. The two begin talking about the up coming training|
|Location||Undisclosed Classroom, Hogwarts|
|Date||Feb 28, 1995|
|Watch For||Moody with Ballet knowledge. Queen. Sad things.|
It's been a few days since Siobhan's…explosion in the DADA room. One night with twenty hours of sleep really helped her - both body and mind. Still, she's not up to where she was before. That might be part of the reason she's taken a few hours of her afternoon free-time to…dance? The old abandoned classrom has been charmed to keep the noise in, but once the door is opened, The Best of Queen can be heard playing probably louder than it needs to be, strictly speaking.
The tables have been pushed back against the trunks and walls, the benches slid underneath. One such table is being used as a balance beam for a skinny blonde in loungepants and a tank top. She's stretching now - running again this morning really wasn't a good experience with her still aching body - because stretching is one of the few things these days that feels good. It takes a few minutes, but once she is limber - as limber as she's going to be today - she goes up into the fourth ballet position and then slowly raises the back leg up behind her while leaning forwards - eyes facing forward - revealing the leather bands around her right forearm that hold her tiny willow wand flush to the inside.
Moody has decidedly been a smidge easier on his students in class-and has been rather closed mouth with Siobhan and a few other students in the past days. Most likely busy, or kept to himself. All the same if one has exceptional hearing the might catch him stumping along the corridor on his routine patrols of the halls and school. However as he comes by one classroom-one bit of noise catches his ears.
There's a lurching step back as the door is creaked open, before he slides in, and closes it without slamming the door. Yes there was a time he could sneak up on anyone. Eyes jointly taking in the dancing Blonde Sytherin. Nothing said as he watches the ballet movement-one half scarred brow arching up for a second before there's a nod all the same-he'll let her get a few paces and steps in. Possible a Pau de chat or two before he will be reaching for his wand-and silencing the music for a bit.
The music is loud enough that Siobhan doesn't notice the creaking or the entrance. In fact, she seems entirely absorbed in her own little world. Slowly she lowers her leg, shifting her balance to it before lifting the other and going en pointe into attitude devant. She almost makes it.
Having the weight there twinges against the deep muscles that still ache from the curse and she wobbles a good bit. For a moment, she manages to compensate, but one such movement pulls against her scars and the entire thing goes up - or rather, down - in smoke. A pile of limbs on the floor, Siobhan moves to sit up against a leg of the table, cursing under her breath and wiping cold sweat from her forehead. Not as easy as it used to be, then.
You're step was off." mutters Moody with a motion of his hand, now fully announcing his presence in the room. He's moving from the doorway further in as the music is now fully silenced. A shake of his head. But he doesn't come to help her up. "I think you're legs weren't t' even…" but all the same hands move to rest at his side-idle. Tat Blue eye moving back in his head, probably trailing someone in the hall, but the brown remains focused solely on his student.
"Still y' have good form- which a lot of girls your age can't hold." Don't ask how Moody knows what Ballet is-because the story might be more awkward than the girl cares to hear. All the same, Moody pulls a disjointed line of his lips-which might be considered a grin-or even something close to a smile. "Other than trying to go from fourth-how are yae lass?"
The sudden speech - even from such a familiar voice - has Siobhan whirling to face Moody, wand already in hand and pointed at his chest. "Professor." Recognition sets in and she lowers her hand. There is no 'you startled me' or 'please knock next time'; by now she knows both would be redundant. When her music is completely silenced, there's a frown from Sio, but she doesn't complain. Not really in the mood for a fight, today.
"Must have good muscle memory, then. Haven't touched the stuff since I was thirteen." When her mum finally let her quit. "Was thinkin' about it when we went runnin'." Which time they went running, she doesn't say, but there is a slight wince at the memory. "I was thinkin' a little grace might do these kids some good, an' when I tested their balance, well…" Overall, the results were miserable. She nods to an open tome on the table. "Found m'old positions book and really…some of 'em would be downright useful in a fight if you c'n learn t'do 'em right."
This seems to please Moody- the lack of the fight perhaps- or maybe the fact that when she did turn she turned drawn. A good sign of reflexes for down on the line- as it would be. A folding of his arms as he watches the Slytherin, before the blue Eye is tracking right back to her. A chuckle all the same as he shifts to put the weight off his prosthetic leg and onto his rather able one left.
"I would say so-I would have put y' just at starting- if not a little more experienced." Moody admits before he is shrugging all the same. "It does help some. I'll admit-my wif-" and he cuts himself off for but a few minutes "Some of my other friends simply tried to get me to join a muggle class-if anything so as to be light on m' feet. But, by the time I took that advice- and progress was shown, I lost m' leg. So- there was no use to trying anymore." but the positions he would agree on as well as the stamina-and balance that it promotes along with fleeting agility. Either way you don't get too caught on your feet. "I heard your racket-Figured I would peek in and see how you're doing."
That near slip isn't missed. Siobhan may be headstrong and allergic to bookwork, but she's not oblivious. Still, all it earns him is a sharp look and a slow nod. She's had enough experience with Alistaire - another tragic widower - to know that if they want to share, they'll share. Seems like the loss of partner comes with the territory. She snorts then, offering him the barest flicker of a smile. To anyone who's seen her once-upon-a-time smiles, brilliant, bright and contagious, this one would be worse than none at all. But perhaps Moody didn't pay attention before. Yeah, right.
"You'd think I'dve picked up more in lessons from five to thirteen, but I liked gymnastics better." So she didn't pay much attention. Or try very hard. When he asks after her, Sio stiffens and closes up - visibly. "'m fine, thanks."
"Don't coddle me with that bloody look." Moody barks as if brushing any of the previous bit away. If anything it might explain why he was one of those who did come to the younger Auror's aid when his own family was attacked and killed. A pain Moody knows all too well-but right now the Auror has adopted a steely gaze and hard exterior. So it is wise not to press him on the facts just now. Other days he ight talk about it-but as it grows close to that anniversary-he usually becomes more agitated and More "moody" than ever. Blusters turn into hurricanes and the like.
"We all forget bits here and there-No matter." Moody intones before he's offering a barked-chuckle "Also don't throw tripe t' a man who is used t' wading through it. I want an honest answer before you seal yourself away." A rub of his jaw-"We've never talked about being cursed before have we?"
"I'm not coddlin' you, you old bear. I don't 'coddle'." Not with the people it'd be wasted on. Snape comes to mind. Spend any amount of time with that man and you learn quickly that sympathy's worth squat. Empathy helps, sometimes, but this isn't that time either.
"I'm not throwin' tripe." Siobhan is apparently going to be stubborn on this point. She eyes him warily for a moment, almost like a wild thing deciding whether to fight or flee. "S'cause there's nothin' to talk about. It happened. The End."
"Lass." Moody starts as that brow barely budges from its lofty perch. A sniff, and he rubs his nose idly. "I've had m' face cursed off and pieced back together again. I've been crucio'd so long it felt like my bones were to split and expell th' marrow into my bloodstream before my fingernails flayed me own skin off…"Leave it to Moody to provide rather rich, and vivid-yet macabre descriptors.
"You let it out now- because if you are serious as I believe you are about this job-keeping all that welled in ya will do no good. And there is only so much help that Dreamless can provide. That is why I am askin-How are y' doing?"
With a wince, Siobhan's face twists into a moue of disgust. Seriously man, TMI. Still, he's got a point, and as much of a Slytherin as Siobhan is, she doesn't tend to wriggle when called out. Heaving a heavy sigh, her shoulders slump forward and she nods. "I'm achy still. Not sleepin' long without the Dreamless. Shaky muscles an' sometimes my legs give out when I least expect it." Her voice is quiet and her cheeks are flushed. Seems this snake is quite embarrassed about her weaknesses. "I don't get it, Professor. How come Johnson's out an' about an' fine an' I'm still like…like this? Can't even hold an 'attitude' without m'legs givin' out on me."
Moody quiets for a moment and one finger idly traces a particularly nasty scar along his lip, before he is nodding softly. "Well, Siobhan.."-though a first name is different-only few don't get called their surnames by the old man. A good sign-mostly if Noble is apt to pick up on such small things-Which he would almost expect her too. "Johnson-I think is pushing through it. I'll admit-when I was first crucio'd it weighed me down good- and that was in training. You have t' work your mind with the pain-around it." Mind over matter
"Also- a stiff dram an a bar of chocolate-tend t' help." Ancient Scottish Secret there.
Siobhan nods, eyes widening as she takes in the use of her first name. Still, no comment. She's learned to speak Slytherin; there are so many things that can be communicated without words. "What, so it's just that she's stronger than me?" The question is posed in a remarkably level voice, but there's a slight tightness in her expression that means she's not as calm as she'd like him to think. Still, the suggestion earns a snort. "I get caught with Scotch an' they'll have me in detention the rest of the year - if not suspended altogether."
"No-That is not what I said-an you know it." Moody retorts as he looks back. "She is different-might be th' curses will weigh her down later in life-rather than early. What I am sayin' is we're all different." The snort earns a grin and he chuckles along. "Aye-well its a suggestion. I'd say have chocolate then-does wonders." Which is odd coming from someone who looks as if they have never had Chocolate in their life.
"Siobhan.." Moody starts before he's looking back to the door "I'll be scarce this weekend-if people look for me, tell them to leave message with you.." A slight hand to the back of his head "I have something important t' be doing in Scotland, but I will be back for our training exercise-is that clear?" He'd wait for an answer-before stumping off to the door. Moody's a little awkward like that
Siobhan doesn't respond to his first, but she listens. It's a thought anyway - and a more palatable one than just thinking she's somehow weak. "I'll see what I can do, but thanks." And she means it. Really.
Moody's order has her blinking in surprise yet again, but she's quick on her feet, Sio is. With a sharp nod, she agrees. "Leave a note on your door or somethin', so they know who to find, but I'll take messages for you." Not half observant, either - so when he says 'important' and Scotland… well, Sio's got an inkling anyway. "I'll see you for trainin' then, Professor." And she offers him another wan attempt at a smile before pulling herself to her feet and charming the music back on full and trying that attitude devant again; this time singing along to 'Somebody to Love'.