Thick clouds muffled the afternoon sun, scattering silver-gray light across the grounds. The mild, wistful weather suited Quidditch training perfectly.
Energized by their new Cleansweep Sevens, the Ravenclaw team warmed up swiftly and dove into drills with unusual focus. Roger Davies called them into formation mid-air for a tactics review before launching into full practice. Brooms whistled as players streaked across the pitch, only grounding near noon for a breather on the grass.
Roger clapped to rally them. "Solid session today. Coordination with the Cleansweeps is coming along nicely, though we've got room to refine it."
He glanced at Cho Chang. "Cho, your Snitch chase was sharp, but add more twists—let's drill turns next time."
She nodded firmly. "Got it. More maneuvers, starting now."
"No worries." Roger jotted notes on his board, then turned to goalkeeper Grant Page. "Teamwork's improved loads since last time."
"But positioning up there could be tighter. Check Roger's old playbook—he's packed it with gems."
Grant rubbed his neck, flushing. "It's just... Vizette pops up out of nowhere, and I freeze every time."
Roger waved it off. "Fair enough. Block him, and you'll handle Angelina or Alicia no sweat. You'll adapt." He wrapped up with quick pointers. "Hufflepuff's next. At this rate, we'll crush them easier than last year. Dismissed!"
---
The team lingered post-practice, strolling the meadows or Black Lake instead of heading straight to the castle. Thick robes swaddled students wandering Hogwarts' grounds.
Vizette and Luna reached the lakeshore, where bare trees etched intricate patterns against the sky like living sketches. They ambled along the water's edge until Vizette huffed a warm cloud. "Getting chilly. Shall we head inside?"
Luna shook her head, snatching a freshly fallen leaf. She mimicked him with a puff of breath. "See? Not cold at all. Rare dry weekend—let's savor it."
She pocketed the leaf, then paused, her voice trailing off.
Vizette frowned. "You alright? Feeling off?"
She met his eyes solemnly. "Let's go back. Lunch in the Great Hall."
"I'm not starving yet." He caught her drift and smiled. "Just trained hard—walking it off now means no aches tomorrow."
"Mm!" Luna's eyes crinkled in delight as she skipped to match his stride, a sprightly rabbit in the wild.
Sweat beaded her forehead beneath a fuzzy purple-pink hat, pom-poms bobbing—last year's department store find, now customized with black thread and Dirigible Plums to evoke a Diricawl. She twirled the fluffy pink puff, lost in whimsy.
Vizette watched her. "Chamber of Secrets mess is nearly sorted. Then, Forbidden Forest adventure?"
"A secret one," Luna beamed, honey-sweet. "School rules are strict... we'll dodge Filch and Hagrid's rounds."
Vizette didn't dampen her spark. "We'll play it safe."
"You mentioned Crumple-Horned Snorkacks there—your pals. I could meet them." Her excitement bubbled. "And the centaurs' altars Fred and George raved about... Oh! Thestrals too—we could seek them out."
"Thestrals?" Vizette recalled a odd flicker at the Hospital Wing that morning. Curiosity piqued, he asked, "Luna, notice anything unusual today?"
"Unusual?" She tilted her head. "Like me flitting about like a gliding bat?"
"Yeah..." He nodded. "What do you reckon I sensed?"
Luna toyed with the Diricawl puff. "Could you glimpse my thoughts? Thestrals wheeling from the Forest? Me tending greenhouse blooms?"
Vizette pieced it together. "Our memory bond from a few days back... maybe some stray emotion triggered it."
She lit up. "I was worrying you'd overdone it—needed rest?"
"That's it!" He grinned, remembering. "I was daydreaming about home, gardening with you..."
"Any side effects? Dizzy? Headache?"
She thought, then shrugged. "Just odd... like gripping sand too hard—it slips away when you chase it."
"Same here." Vizette nodded.
Luna closed her eyes, swaying like a sunflower in the breeze. Vizette steadied her, vigilant.
She blinked open, sighing. "Gone now."
"Needs the right spark?" he suggested gently. "Or just mornings, like dew vanishing by noon."
"Mornings?" Her voice chimed like wind bells. "One day, spotting a wild Crumple-Horned Snorkack, I might peek into your dreams."
Vizette chuckled softly. "Then I'll aim for sweet ones—and plenty of sleep."
—