...And We Can't Just Go Back?

Alice smiled and hummed thoughtfully but did not pursue the subject of her art much further. She loved her art and could talk for days straight about it, but she did not think it wise to do so. First off, she did not want to become cocky. She wanted music and pictures and words to speak for themselves, to be about the content, not about hers, she did not want to have to explain it. Besides... one of the reasons she did not like learning was because it broke the wonder. Especially with magic- magic always seemed cooler before you understood how it worked. Art was the same. And Alice did not like to shatter the wonder.

She brought her eyes to the pafe but allowed them to stay unfocused. She liked the way words on a page ran together when her eyes unfocused. She had tried to capture this illusion many times on paper and it just never seemed to work out quite right. Regardless, it was one of those little kicks she got out of life... and one of her many ways of procrastinating.

He began to put away his things and she continued with this, focusing and refocusing her eyes so she could experience the magic all again. He began to respond to her little joke, and she looked up, her eyes momentarily crossed and unfocused. As he finished she sort of blurted, in a quiet restrained (though unfiltered voice) "Oh, dear, that's sort of sad isn't it?" She did not mean it as an insult on him, but more of a rebuke on the others that treated him so. He made it sound like no one liked him for anything other than his brain.

He continued on, and she almost detected a trace of bitterness. She turned her head to look up at him, listening to his long winded explanation with an open expression, nodding now and then, as though really considering all he had to say. Alice was an artist- she was open minded. She was a gypsy, all perspectives mattered- ironic or what?

He spoke matter of factly, but insight like that came only from experience. As he finished, she shook her head and said, "Your audience decides if you overspeak, and your audience's opinion matters only as much as you let it. You spoke well," she said, smiling. And then she began picking apart his advice. "At a certain point though, is it fair to stand in someone else's shoes, when they haven't tried to stand in yours? Soon, no one is left in your shoes, and your feet get cold, and then what are you?"

Okay, so she meant well, she just had a funny way of explaining. She mentally filed away the statement to be transformed into song lyrics later. She shrugged, fingering the book's binding. "Plus. First chance's are fine, as are second, and thirds, and fourth... But the number becomes ridiculous at some point, right?"

She looked up at him, tilting her head, not minding turning the tables. "So was it a brother or a sister that broke your heart?"

He raised an eyebrow at her when she said it was sad. "To some people possibly, but I don't find it sad..." He said and frowned at her. "I have contact with people in the way I wish to have contact, to some people that may not seem like much of a life, or a sad one at that.. but I do enjoy teaching people things, and enjoy watching that lightbulb go off in their head after figuring out a really hard question on their own, with only a little prompting from me, I guess it's because I do wish to become a teacher one day, and I take an odd fascination with teaching people things they otherwise wouldn't know." he said and looked back down at his paper.

He couldn't help but smile at her analogy. "when that happens you buy a new pair of shoes." He said, a quiver in his voice. "Or in all seriousness.. you speak to them face to face... discover what they feel about you... if there isn't the ability to speak to them.." his mind flashed to his sister for a moment, before he closed his eyes briefly and continued. "Then pretend they did... think about how they feel about you.. look at your own actions and see them from their point of view... without them trying to see who you are.. see yourself as they see you.. and maybe you'll understand why he hasn't tried to see into your shoes yet." He said simply. "Not everyone as insightful as we wish they were." He said with a small sad smile, before he scribbled down some more answers to the questions he had written on the parchment.

"If they get to the point when the number becomes ridiculous.. I'd say it's to late for them anyway.. some people are only content with giving second, thirds, and fourths, but the people who are willing to give more... well they aren't always the people who have control over what happens to that person.. sometimes the best thing we can do is look kindly at someone, and try to understand from a distance... because there just isn't a way to know them any better." He said softly, staring at her. "Not everything has the answer we wish it did... no matter how hard we try... we aren't the only ones who have an opinion, and oftentimes.. our opinion is the one that matters least." He said shaking his head.

He froze when she completely turned the tables and asked a personal question about the whole situation. "So was it a brother or a sister that broke your heart?" His face grew dark, and he stared at his paper, his quill not moving, until he finally managed to say in an even tone. "My twin sister." He looked up at her, a mask in place of emotion, trying his hardest not to show his emotions. It was a good mask, and his face looked blank, but inside he felt like crying. He didn't go any further, and wouldn't unless she asked, but as it was, it was obvious that she had picked up more from him then he had realized he had shown. Possibly because of his advice, people who gave good advice on a subject often had experience with what was being discussed. As it was, he had shared a lot more then he originally intended, and it reminded him of why he didn't speak much to people.

Alice was not clever in the typical way, where she could figure out homework problems no one else understood or knew a ton of facts. But her experimentation often got her odd results. And her willingness to try all perspectives greatly widened her horizons, giving her a wider scope of ideas and ways to understand something. She often came up with things most people would not consider.

Peter seemed entertained with her comparison and she felt herself relax and smile a bit in response, glad to know her quirky way of thinking had not been lost on him. So maby times, Ravenclaws just glared at her as she took her peculiar route to grasping a concept aloud, thinking she was just trying to be atypical, not realizing that she simply could not help it.

She nodded her head, not really having learned anything, but she had enjoyed getting time to crawl into someone's else brain for awhile, curl up there, and get cozy. She loved doing that- people's different ways of thinking was the main cause of the conflict in the world, but it also made up the flavors that made life even remotely worth living.

But just because she had not learned did not mean she had not grown. He had given her things to consider, some ideas to mull over, but she was not sure she was ready to stand in Frank's shoes. She had lived her life standing in his shadow, she did not know that she could stand any closer to him without disappearing completely.

She felt the whole atmosphere between the two change when she ventured past the hypotheticals and got a little personal. He looked up at her and Alice wondered if he really felt as indifferent as he looked. Alice knew it was noble to help someone when they hurt, but sometimes it was nobler to look away. She just said, "Isn't that just the darndest thing?" She looked up at him, wondering what his sister must look like. She pulled out a piece of paper and begin scratching out lines to make a face. She would figure it out. "So, what year are you? You seem Ravenclaw, and though I don't like to judge a book by a cover, you seem Ravenclaw-esque."

When Alice didn't ask him to elaborate, he felt a small smile flit across his face, before turning back to it's serious expression. She knew she had hit a barrier, and backed off, and he was glad for it. He watched her as she began to sketch again, and watched her hand move across the paper with such ease, such tenderness, it was like she was stroking the paper, and the lines just magically appeared, as though the pencil wasn't even touching the surface, but lines appeared and created a masterpiece. He watched her for a long moment until he realized she had asked him a question. He looked at her blankly for a moment or two, before he finally remembered what she asked.

"Oh.. erm... I'm a 6th year, Ravenclaw yes... did the tie give me away.. or the badge on my chest? Or my natural charm and way with words?" he asked, glancing down at his blue and silver tie, and the Ravenclaw badge on his chest. "Hmm.." He looked at her, with a small lopsided grin on his face. "I'd guess... you are a Gryffindor... umm... 6th year?" He asked taking a wild guess. He lifted his eyebrows at her, and tried to remember if he had seen her during his sorting, or if he hadn't been paying enough attention at the time. The hat had called out his name almost immediately when it had touched his head, knowing what house he would be in, but he couldn't remember if he had seen Alice there, or heard her name called at the time. "Or... seventh year maybe?" He asked, smiling at her, hoping he was correct, he liked getting things right, but even he got them wrong sometimes. It was only human.

He pointed out his tie and badge and she turned and blinked, a small smile unfurling on her face as one of her hands floated up to her head to hold it. She leaned her head against her hand and slowly shook it, a bemused smile on her face. "I hadn't even noticed," she said in an amused voice. "That's an artist for you I suppose. I noticed the symmetry of the way the books on that shelf over there are stacked, but I didn't even.." She shook her head, chuckling again.

She smiled at him as he guessed Gryffindor, which was not very often- people rarely guessed what she was. Those who didn't know her study habits usually thought Ravenclaw. Those who did thought Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. Those who saw her in any of her rages thought Slytherin. Alice was just a very vague person with a vague existence. It was hard to label her.

When he began to guess her age, she felt the corners of her mouth rise even higher. It was always a compliment being thought to be older, of course, and it seemed to happen a lot to Alice. She tilted her head and said, "Actually, I'm fifth year. But yes, I am Gryffindor."

Peter couldn't help but look surprised when she said she was a fifth year. "No way... fifth? I wouldn't have guessed.." He said frowning at her, and then flushing red around the ears. "Sorry, I guess... I know how girls are.. " he coughed lightly. "About their age and all.. I mean.. my mother hates being called old.. and.. and.. I mean.." He stuttered and found himself getting really nervous again and so he found himself staring at the table again, trying to memorize his fingernails like it was the last thing he did. "At least I got your house right.. I'm usually good at that kind of thing I guess." he said smiling up at her again, trying not to look to foolish as he did, though the way he did it made him look like a little boy who had got his hand caught in the cookie jar.

Peter stared at the table again, and picked up his quill, suddenly realizing how awkward it was for him to be sitting there talking to her like that. Of course he was an awkward person, so it shouldn't have been a surprise to him, he didn't speak much about stuff to people, and already had had said so much. He buried his nose in his book, and attempted to take notes on it, reading and rereading what he had written in an attempt to make the words out, but unable to get them to process correctly in his brain, and he just wanted to go find somewhere to hide from her gaze. Girl's like these were the most dangerous, they liked you to speak out, and he hated speaking out, and she had already gotten him to say so much, what else was there to say? He stared at the paper some more, trying to read the words that were now blurry from his vision being all screwed up, and he couldn't help but find his gaze traveling back up to Alice and smiling at her lightly, taking in the way her hair caught the light in the room, and trying to observe the little details for later so he could think back fondly on this conversation.

Her smile slowly began to spread across her face, growing a little more everytime Peter continued to dig his hole a little deeper. She really had not found any of it awkward, but apparently he had found it incredibly embarrassing because he kept trying to save the situation. She did not think it needed saving, but because he was willing to put on a little show for her, she was going to sit back, bask in the awkwardness, and enjoy the entertainment.

"It's fine," she assured him. "I don't mind being called older. No offense to your mother, but she takes offense because she is on the older side of things, I'm sure. As a youht, I do not think so poorly of the idea of being grown." She smiled but he seemed to have given up. He awkwardly transitioned back to reading from his book and taking notes.

Alice stared at the table before her and closed her book- obviously, that was not where her priorities were, so why pretend. She saw Frank's letter open and staring at her. Well, who needed him. She crumpled it and pushed it into her bag and began drawing again, focusing her attention on the rose. She started to grow a wolf from the center of the rose. Abstract art was just how she rolled.

She felt Peter's gaze and raised her eyes to meet his. She smiled brightly and in her lazy voice said, "Would you like to be friends?"

Peter thought for a moment that she sounded like she was amused at his predicament. She thought this was funny?! He was so embarrassed right now, and she was thinking this was amusing, she sounded like she did anyway, but he was to nervous to look up and check to see if she LOOKED amused. His eyes were drawn to her picture, watching the wolf appear out of the pedals, and he frowned, staring at it. A wolf out of a rose? It made him think of werewolves, and he wondered what she had on her mind. His eyes flickered up to her, and then back to the picture.

When her eyes moved up to his, and they locked gazes, he felt the flush creep from his ears to his neck, and his gaze stuck on hers when she asked if he wanted to be friends. His mind was reeling. Friends? He knew the term of course, and there were a few people he considered friends, but no one had ever... he had never been ASKED if he wanted to be friends, it just happened. And so when she asked, he was flustered, and kinda confused, but he found himself nodding without words. His eyes locked on hers. He nodded silently, taking in her face for a long moment, before he found his gaze back on his book. "Sure... let's... let's be friends.." He said unable to keep the smile off of his face.

She had caught him by surprise, she was sure of it by just looking at his semi-stunned face. It was obvious he had never been so ubruptly asked such a question. Alice was used to being that girl who asked things upfront and got strange stares. She scared most people off but the people she got along best with enjoyed the fact that they could usually count on her to just say what she was thinking. And it was true- she saw friendship potential in Peter.

He seemed awkward about it and she had a vision of him just saying no. She would rebound, naturally, because Alice sort of.. transcended menial situations and the little things in life. But still, she would enjoy constant reliable company of someone. He looked up awkwardly at her, met her eyes momentarily and then said yes, looking away and smiling.

She smiled. "Great." She suddenly smiled wider and picked up her book, putting it on top of his, her eyes shining with the joke as she said with a straight face, "Now do my homework."

((Thread done?))