|Scene Title||Picnic on the Pitch|
|Synopsis||Just a gathering of people on a spring day.|
|Location||Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch|
|Date||Apr 11, 1995|
|Watch For||Rogue Bludger, Talk of Wrackspurts|
It is Saturday afternoon, not on a Hogsmeade weekend. Angie has come out to the pitch to study, her blanket all spread out. She has separated herself away from the kids on the grounds and in the meadow with the hopes of being better able to focus. Already, word was sent to Lupin about where to meet her for tutoring. Unfortunately, not much study happened. Or if it did, it isn't happening right now. In the rareness of the weather, and the safety and comfort of the pitch, Angelina has fallen asleep on her charms book. And yeah. She's drooling.
Having retrieved said word via owl, Lupin makes his way from his rented room in Diagon Alley. He makes his way into the school grounds, doing his best to make a b-line to the Quidditch Pitch, although he does walk somewhat leisurely, taking in the beautiful day. Once he arrives at the Pitch, he is surprised to find Angelina asleep. He chuckles softly. He approaches slowly and snaps his fingers near Angelina's ears. "Miss Johnson, time to wake up."
Apparently, someone found Angelina before Lupin did. And wanted the other students to leave her alone. Likely, Fred or George. At a certain distance from her, from out of nowhere, Lupin is bombarded by a swarm of attacking…butterflies. It might be enough to throw students offguard, but surely it is no feat for Lupin to get through. When noise is made near her, Angie startles awake, sitting up. She scrambles for her wand, only to finally recognize the voice and sigh heavily, flumping her head back down. "Oi. Sorry. A'ernoon Professor.."
Certainly a swarm if attacking butterflies are enough to catch anyone off guard, but Remus Lupin is merely surprised that of all things, it's butterflies that are swarming him, but otherwise keeps a calm demeanour and appearance, as there's no reason really to be surprised. He whips out his wand and makes them disappear. He smiles at Angelina as she wakes up. "Ah, Good afternoon Miss Johnson."
"Right. Right. Tutoring. Saturday afternoon." Angelina places her hands down on the blanket before pushing herself up. She fell asleep here on the pitch, among her books. Groggy, she shakes off the after-nap fog. "I just..I was studying. The grass here on the pitch smells so much better than in the meadow.."
Lupin and Angelina are on a blanket in the Quidditch Pitch with Lupin standing while Angelina is just waking up from a nap. Lupin smiles. "Yes, the Quidditch Pitch is…well, it is groomed in such a way, differently than the meadow. Such as any sports arena." He smiles. "I spent much time here in my school days, as well."
From the archway, a hooting, panting boy is in a full-break run. Neville Longbottom is trucking it, a heavy, dark ball swatting around him. "Rogue blugeeer!" bellows the fourth year, clutching a box in an arm. The ball swings low, clocking the poor Gryffindor in the back of the head. He does a full cartwheel tumble, face-planting into the grass not too far from the other two in the pitch. He rolls, just in time for the ball to slap into the ground instead of him, only to rise again and attempt a second attack.
Angelina might still be waking up, but she knows the term 'rogue bludger' well enough when she hears it. She doesn't jump up, she doesn't rush over. She just reaches for her wand, points it when the bludger goes into the air, and calls out, "Reducto!" And even if it doesn't shatter into a million shards like it would if it were…well..wood…it should at least throw the thing off path. "Yeah…well…I don't think I've ever smelled anything so good in all my life. I can't believe I fell asleep."
Lupin knows the term 'rogue bludger' as well, and well enough to know to react quickly. As Angelina blows it off it's course, Lupin keeps his eye on the Bludger until starts to make its way back. He jumps on it with a loud 'oomph' and looks toward Neville. "Get that…open. I'll…put it back." He breaths out slowly. Once Neville does so, and he's able to struggle the bludger into it's case, he looks toward the two of his ex-students. "Well, that was fun." He smiles.
Neville yelps, looking up— ah, the thing blasts off path and into the ground a few meters away, rolling and stopping uselessly. He huffs, catching his breath and reaching out to gather up the box that had flown to the wayside in his decent to the ground. One is, charm-written in gold leaf, is his name. He pries it open and gets to shaky feet, hustling to Remus. "Last time I trust a strange box. Bloody Slytherins." Neville sighs, rubbing the back of his head and hissing at the dull throb. "Thanks," he adds to both of them.
Angelina watches as Lupin pounces on the bludger and it is put away. She lifts a hand to rub at her eyes as the boys settle things up. "Gotta love rouge bludgers. Wonder where they picked that up. I better check the school sets. Make sure they didn't lift it from there."
Lupin smiles a little. "Well, I am sure that they were just…having a bit of fun." Though something in his voice suggests that he doesn't quite believe what he's saying, but he won't voice it. He's not a student any more, after all, and he has to set a good example. "But it won't hurt to check, Miss Johnson."
Neville helps strap the box back up and steps away, wincing with another ginger head-rub. "Sorry, Professor, Angelina. Didn't mean to interrupt. Ran this way hoping there'd be some Quidditch buffs that could help. But— did you play, Professor?" he wonders of Lupin.
"You didn't interrupt, Neville. I was just waking up. The Professor caught me napping, rather than studying. I don't even know how long I've been asleep." Angie yawns a big yawn, trying to motivate herself and wake up. "Sorry I'm so slow to wake up. I don't know what's wrong with me."
Lupin smiles gently and shakes his head. "Oh, no. Not to worry, Mr. Longbottom. I just arrived. But it's a lucky thing that you did run this way, as Ms. Johnson and I were thus able to help you." He says kindly. He shakes his head yet again. "No, I've never really played the game, not on a team or anything of that like. My friends and I, however, did play a few games together…just for fun, of course. And I would help my one friend practice every now and again."
"Yeah? Not me, I wouldn't get on a broom if you paid me," Neville laughs, but it's cut short by the spike of his headache. "I lasted all of ten minutes in my first year on a broom." His attention swings to Angelina and his chin tucks to his neck, eyes narrowing. "I can tell you! Working too hard, if you ask me. When's the last time you got a decent night's sleep, Angie?"
Angie gives Neville a pointed look and a frown. "I'm not working too hard. I'm just fine. I slept last night, same as anyone else, Neville." She is sitting on a blanket on the pitch, books spread out. Lupin and Neville stand nearby, and the three are talking on this lovely Saturday afternoon.
Lupin chuckles softly. "I am sure that Ms. Granger would say the exact same thing, or that I would have said that same thing back when I was in school, Ms. Johnson, but I know from experience that people like us, who study as hard as we do, or did, often don't realize that we're overworking ourselves."
Neville nearly weakens under Angelina's frown, but Lupin to the rescue! Neville nods his head, if gingerly. "Ouch," he gripes, feeling a small lump forming. Brilliant.
What started out as an odd shape upon one end of the Quidditch stands, with the light blonde colour of her bouncing hair perhaps catching the eye every so often, soon turned into Luna as she skips out of the shadow of the Quidditch stands, towards the people gathered about the pitch. Coming within a few metres of the gang, she comes to a rather sudden stop, lifting her chin up to glance towards all three, wide, blue eyes flicking between them all. "Oh, hello." she says, in her usual faraway sort of tone. She cants her head to one side, owllike, her eyes turning to stare in particular at Neville. His nose and mouth in specific.
"Well, maybe I am, but what choice do I have? I only have a few months left to do a year's worth of learning." Lifting a hand, she scratches at her cheek. "What about you, Professor? How have you been?" As Luna now joins the conversation, Angie is starting to feel a little uncomfortable. "You are all welcome to join me on the blanket.." She starts moving books out of the way.
Lupin smiles softly. "It just doesn't hurt to take some time to yourself, and relax. That is all. Even if it is an hour or two a day. Even half an hour." He gives Neville a sympathetic look. Pulling out some chocolate, he rips off a piece of it and hands it to Neville. "This may not quite make it feel better, but it should help take your mind off of it for a short while." He says. When finally it is realized that somebody else is here, he gives Luna a smile. "Ah, Ms. Lovegood. How are you today?"
Neville takes the offered chocolate, nibbling on it. He does relax a bit and stops fiddling with the back of his head. He hesitates at Angelina, instead noticing Luna's eyes on him. "It's gone," he says rather deadpan to her. "A beak," he references to Lupin. "Fred and George," note the look to Angie, "Gave me a beak. Madam Pomfrey flipped."
It takes Luna a few more moments to respond, the cant to her head disappearing as she speaks to Neville, "I'm terribly sorry. Do not worry - I still think you look fine without it," with that, she then turns her faraway sort of gaze towards Lupin. "Ah, professor. Have you come back to teach? Although I think professor Moody is a grand teacher… he has wonderfully fun detentions," she says, a subdued little smile following her words unto her lips. "I'm rather hoping to get more soon."
Detentions? Fun? Yeah. Only Luna. The mention of Fred and George makes Angelina wrinkle up her nose. "Don't worry about them, Neville. They'll be playing no more pranks on you. For a few days, at least, until they forget I told them to leave you be."
"A beak? Well…everyone should know what it's like to speak like a bird. But don't feel too bad. Mr. and Mr. Weasley just like to have fun really. They surely didn't mean anything by it." Lupin responds. Of course, he would know, he and his friends were similar to Fred and George when they were in school. "Oh, no Ms. Lovegood, not to teach. I am glad that Professor Moody's detentions are fun, however."
Neville makes a small, amused noise. "We'll see," he tells Angie. The boy pauses mid chocolate munch to give Luna a look. "Thanks, Luna. I prefer myself without it." He waits a moment, but even the chocolate can't hide the pulsing smarts of a rogue bludger bang. "Think m'gonna go pay Madam Pomfrey after all. Thanks for the chocolate, though, Professor. Try to talk a bit of sense into Angelina, please?" He looks at Luna once more, as if to make the same request to him about Luna. But, well, he's not a miracle worker. After a wave Neville starts towards the archway and back to the castle.
The odd look that the departing boy treats her with causes Luna to give Neville a bit of a stare in return, the vague smile growing just a bit in a reasonably friendly fashion. A pause, and Luna, almost visibly, switches gears to get upon a different track of thought. "You really ought to come back and teach. Perhaps help Moody, or something new and fun." she says, her tone of voice drifting back towards the normal dreamy sort of state. "Oh, Angelina!" she says, a subtle tone of excitement or surprise slipping into her voice, "Are you having a picnic out here?"
"Talk some sense into me..?" Angelina raises a brow at Neville, then looks at Lupin in confusion. "A picnic? No Luna. I was just out here studying." Her head is still craned back to look up at all of them standing. "Please sit down? If you want a picnic, maybe I can go and get us some sandwiches?"
Lupin smiles and chuckles softly, merely giving a little nod to Neville as he runs off. "Well, I am here in a teaching capacity, in a way. I am tutoring Ms. Johnson here, you see." He explains. "And yes, Angelina, sense. But my job is to tutor, not to give you sense which you must learn on your own. But I must say, I'd like it if you rested up a bit more." He says kindly. "And if sandwiches or some form of snacks are wished upon, I shall get them and leave you two to talk? Just let me know. It won't be too much of a trouble, I assure you."
The offer of sandwiches does seem to draw Luna's attention towards Angelina. "A picnic would be wonderful. Whatever do you need to be tutored on?" Luna says, switching this conversation a little more smoothly. "Perhaps I could help too, for you helping me with the wrackspurt detector."
Angie waves a hand at Lupin. "Sleep is for the weak. I'll sleep when I'm d…" she stops herself, then corrects.."..when school is out. I'll sleep when school is out." Her head shakes at him as she rises. "No, you stay here, professor. I'll be back in just a few minutes. I need to run back to the school anyway." A shrug is given to Luna. "You don't need to repay me for that. I wanted to help you. I'm just behind in a couple of classes. They are helping me dig my way out."
Lupin shakes his head. "No, only the truly weak would believe that sleep is for the weak. It makes you strong, gives you energy, keeps you on your toes. And above all…stops you from sleeping on the Quidditch Pitch." He says softly. "If I can impart one bit life lesson, it would be this one." He says with a little smile. Well, maybe it wouldn't be this lesson, per se, but it's important none the less. "And are you sure? I don't mind. But, if you're sure…"
Luna, for her part, seemed more or less oblivious to the undertones in the conversation about her. As Angelina rises, she moves around her to what she believes is an open corner of the blanket. Falling down into a sit atop of it there, she folds her hands in her lap neatly, and watches the other two, eyes flickering between them as they speak.
Did he just call her truly weak? Yeah. Pretty sure he did. Angie nods, a tiny bit. "I see. Well, I'll give it some thought then." She offers him a tiny smile. "I'm sure. Really. It will only take a minute. And then? She is off and running for the castle.
Lupin smiles. "I hope you did not think I was insinuating that you are 'weak' by any measure. By no means. But this is, perhaps, a story for another time." He turns to Luna as Angelina runs off. "So, Ms. Lovegood. Have you gotten your…what was it? Your Wrackspurt Detector? Have you got it working now?"
Luna had gone from glancing between the two, to glancing off in the distance, towards one of the quidditch flags flapping in the wind. Pausing a moment, she brings her eyes down, and focuses her gaze more or less upon Lupin's own eyes. "Hmm?" she says at first, but carries on regardless, "Oh, no. I have the incantation, which is the hard part. I just have to build it. Which Angelina is helping me quite a bit with - it's really rather lovely looking. It doesn't look a thing like daddy's, but it will work the same, I just know it."
Lupin listens intently with a small smile. "Well, I'm sure you'll get it up and running in no time. But I do have to ask…what are these 'Wrackspurts'? I've heard of them, but never quite known what they are. And I thought perhaps you could tell me, since you seem to be the most knowledgeable about these creatures."
"Well, daddy told me the most about them. He writes about them all of the time in the Quibbler," Luna says, although she does seem to brighten when speaking on this subject. "They are invisible creatures, that like to fly inside your ears and make your brains all fuzzy. You can shake them out by dancing and singing, and… they look an awful lot like Muggle pigeons, once the wrackspurt detector draws them out."
Lupin listens and tilts his head slightly. "Pigeons, you say? And they're invisible. But then…how do they make it inside a person's head without them knowing?" He can't help but enquire.
Long distance to Fred: Angelina said 'someone', maybe Fred or George, set a spell around a sleeping Angie…she fell asleep studying on the pitch…because she insisted that the grass on the pitch smells better than the grass in the meadow…
"Well, they don't quite live here, of course." Luna says, with an air of someone telling another something that /everyone/ knows. "They're a bit like ghosts, and so can squeeze into your ear whenever they'd like. They are really one of the worst wizarding pests - nearly as bad as nargles."
Lupin nods a little bit. "Well, that would certainly make them quite bothersome, yes. If they make your brain fuzzy, also, how do you know if they're there, since you'll be thinking all fuzzy like?" He really and honestly is curious. "And what are 'nargles'?" He asks of the girl who used to be his student.
Onto the quidditch pitch strides Fred Weasley, George is no where in site but Fred still looks as chipper as the day is long. Looking around for someone the red headed boy (basicaaly adult) doesn't spot Angie but sees other sitting on her blanket, "Ah I bloody missed it didn't I? Did the butterflies work?" He asks with a perk in his voice as he heads in Luna and Lupin's direction.
"Well, you can notice it sometimes, of course. Most people just think they are getting tired or otherwise," Luna begins, "But nargles are entirely different, they are… hello George!" Luna says, suddenly picking up her hand to wave towards the Weasely.
Ah, but here comes Angie, just coming through the archway to the pitch. She's taking her time walking back, carrying a picnic basket, grumbling to herself under her breath about something or other.
Lupin smiles and nod. "Ah, well, I will be keeping mind for the tell tale signs of the wrackspurt then." He says firmly. He looks up as Luna speaks and nods to the Weasley twin. "Hello, Mr. Weasley. And yes, I must say your butterflies did work. Not so well on myself, but I'm sure they would have caught anyone else quite unawares." He says kindly.
Fred grins brightly at the prise from Lupin and dusts his fingers off in his jacket in a non-chalaunt way, "Well I'm glad you like then Loo-Lupin." He quickly corrects himself since Angie appears and best not to upset the dragon. Calling out to her he says, "So you finally got up sleeping beauty? And you brought me food?" He grins a very wide grin and hplops himself down on the blanket quickly before she has a chance to protest his presence.
"I hope she brought pudding," says Luna. A moment, "Did you make a trick involving butterflies, George?" asks Luna, turning her head to regard the Weasely a bit more strongly. Mr. Lupin's polite trick of calling everyone by their last names would work wonders here!
Dragon? What dragon? No dragon here…..RAWR!!! Angie smirks as she returns to find Fred now here as well. "What is it with you? Princess? Sleeping Beauty? Buttercup? I wasn't out that long today, was I?" The basket is put down on the blanket and she begins pulling everything out. "Alright. Here is the pitcher of pumpkin juice. And the sandwiches. And some fruit. And potato salad…and tarts aaaaannnnd…" She digs, looking down further. "Pudding. They had the baskets just waiting in the Great Hall. Groups of kids were running in and getting them. Apparently, someone informed them there was no way they were going to get us in there for dinner."
Lupin nods a little bit. "Quite clever it was." He says to Fred. "It seems, Ms. Lovegood, that Mr. Weasley here set up a little trick where butterflies would swarm around whoever attempted to wake Ms. Johnson." He says as said Ms. Johnson arrives. "That's quite the feast you have brought for this picnic, Ms. Johnson."
Fred grins to Luna, "It's Fred actually. Going steal myself a prefect badge and make it say F…well maybe not." He looks towards their former professor. Winking to Angie Fred responds, "My mom said I should compliment lovely ladies, I thought I was doing a fine job. But maybe I better read more then muggle fairy tales." He contimplates and folds his legs up underneath his body lookign at the food in a hungry, growing boy manner.
Just then, there is a scream from the stands as one of the younger kid trips and falls down a few benches. Like a shot, Angie off to help the poor ickle firstie girl and mske sure's alright. Duty of a prefect and all. Not like she has a soft spot for the ickle firsties. Nooooo.