The witches hour

He frowned. What a waste of perfectly good coffee. He was down to half a thermos now. He poured the rest of his lid into the mug and topped it off. Jack took off again and he was left alone with his thoughts.

Three more sips later and Matt was feeling significantly warmer. He screwed the top of the thermos back on and put it back in his jacket, warming him further. Jack did another lap around him. He breathed into the air, watching his own breath.

He truly had to admire her admiration for running. But he couldn't help but wonder if this was all she did. He was kind of looking forward to watching her practice with bludgers or even her broomstick.

He continued to follow her with his eyes but reverted to stargazing when she was behind him. Instead of sipping his coffee; if he drank it all he'd have to pee soon.

She ran. She ran hard.

Jack Dyllan had not been as sensitive to class as she was now until Hogwarts. In primary, no one really cared who your mum was or whether your dad could afford a jet ski. It was cool, but it meant nothing. At the end of the day, no one cared if you were poor as long as you brought a football or paid your fair share for the communal trading cards.

But in Hogwarts, it mattered. Who your parents fought for. Who they knew in the Ministry. How much gold, what model broomstick. And the muggleborn in hand-me-downs was written off before she even picked up a wand.

Yeah, she had some hang ups over it.

And Matt lounged in his privilege, happy to interrupt the routine that was going to break her out of the caste her parents had tightly forced her into. She needed to run, she needed to swing, she needed to fly. It was the only way she'd claw herself out.

She stopped her running and stared at the hoops in the distance, ever the beacon for her hopes and goals. Right now her hope was small and simple, but she somehow doubted she'd see it's fruition. She never had been lucky.

She turned and headed towards the center of the pitch, walking slowly, her hands placed high on her torso, clutching her ribs as her heart struggled to come back down to a normal tempo. She stopped in front of him again, but she didn't look at him, focusing instead on her breath.

She dropped to sit down in front of him, catching herself with her arm but still flopping gracelessly in front of him. She fell back into the grass, her arms spread out as she took in deep breaths of air, hair dampening from the dew.

"So. What's a girl gotta do for some privacy, huh? I don't think I can hit you a third time in good conscience."

"I'm surprised you hit me a second time in good conscience." he responded quickly and flopped on his back alongside her.

He always enjoyed staring at the night sky. Often they were his only companionship when he was travelling. Many nights spent sleeping on a park bench waiting for a bus or even a train sometimes for travel. He didn't have much but what he did have he earned and that was a lot more than many of the other students could say. But that was an aspect of life he'd never have to do again now that he was seventeen.

"If you can't handle me hanging about how are you ever going to handle an entire crowd of rowdy Hogwarts students."

He didn't intend on getting under her skin. He didn't know it was this easy either. Had he known this sooner perhaps their relationship could have been more even. But, it had always been a little one-sided on the behalf of Jack. He'd have to make up for it somehow.

"Yeah, well, you basically begged me to. Hardly my fault."

Anyone on the outside would say it was objectively false. She had a feeling he knew she was right. Jack was aggressive, she was reactive, and she was confrontational. But she wasn't a bully. She might not have the best judge of a situation. But her goal wasn't to make anyone's life worse. Quite the opposite really. She liked being a beacon of chaos and fun. And yeah, sometimes she hit people. But that was chaos.

She wanted to fly. She could feel her mind itching for it, craving the rush of adrenaline, the fear biting into the lining of her stomach as a Bludger soared towards her, the relief and victory as it soared away. But her body was enjoying the rest. It had been a long few days.

She let out a breath at his thoughts. "Nah. When there's a crowd I can pretend there's at least one person there cheering me on."

Oof. Maybe that had more truth in it than she meant.

"I cheer you on." he said absentmindedly. "Our team fucking sucks." and he let out an airy chuckle.

He had to admit he'd been an absolute ass the last time they talked. He had definitely been the aggressor. Well technically they both were aggressive with each other. But he couldn't help but feel like he stepped over a line. He didn't necessarily regret it but he felt maybe a tinge of guilt at the thought. His plan had worked a little too well. And it dawned on him.

That's probably why she was avoiding him.

But then why stick around now? What was different now? It could have simply been the passage of time. That and the fact he'd intruded with his head boy badge. But he'd already told her he wasn't going to turn her in. She probably didn't believe him and he couldn't blame her. He was a Lestrange after all.

His admission hung in the air, a light joke, an offhand comment. Her heartbeat was slowing. She could hear the tittering of birds.

"No they don't."

They didn't. For as much shit as she gave him, Keiran could organize a team.

"And no you don't."

There was no weight to her words, no accusation, no emotion. Just the simple statement of fact that she had no problem accepting.

God, she was tired.

"Of course I don't, you're a Gryffindor."

Most Gryffindors their age didn't pay him the time of day. Any of the younger one's he's tutored either ignore him or smile softly. Nobody really talks to him outside of the early years or people who don't know him. Maybe that was why he egged her on so much. She talked to him, genuinely talked to him. He could be sure that if he tried he'd get a Jack Dyllan taunt or an accurate insult.

She was genuine and the stars were getting hard to see.

He sat back up, pulling out his thermos again. He filled the cap and placed it down on the ground carefully. He reached into his jacket again and grabbed the same mug he'd offered Jack before. For the third time that evening he poured the warm coffee into it, finishing off his thermos.

He held his arm out as far and straight as it would go offering it to her.

"Gryffindor," she echoed.

Slytherin.

Hufflepufff.

Ravenclaw.

Just ancient names with random meanings. They were gibberish. They didn't mean anything, but they were made to mean everything. It was stupid.

Her eyelids were heavy. Maybe she would sleep. That'd be nice. She considered it. She truly considered it. Try turning her in while she was comatose. She'd say she had been out there all night, and how dare the castle not have safeguards. She could have died.

She wanted to sleep. But she couldn't. She needed to practice. She needed to eat. She needed to send Charlie a letter. She needed to go to at least some of her classes. She definitely needed to do her Potions essay. And then she had detention. And then practice. And the five hours after that she would be back out here. It was exhausting just thinking about it. Exhausting...

Matt's hand hung in the air for a moment, waiting. She didn't notice. Sleep was on the edge of her consciousness, luring her deep, luring her down.

Not today. Not now.

Her hand found the mug and she sat up, lifting it to her lips. Her eyes were looking a bit bloodshot now, teased as they were by the prospects of rest. She let took a deep breath and then drained the coffee, not minding the heat, taking the pain as another reminder that she needed to get going. "Right. If you're not going to leave me to it, I'm going back to the castle. I have Potions essays I need to plagiarize." She was halfway done with it, and actually quite enjoying the topic. But she could keep that secret to herself.

"We're have histories of rivalries between us that say we shouldn't be having this relaxing little chat." he said quietly. "It's bullsh*t," he whispered.

It caught him off guard, how quickly she grabbed his mug. She had drank the entire thing without even looking at the writing on it. Nevertheless she had taken it. And that was a win for Matt. He smiled weakly as he sipped at his own coffee - it would be a few more hours and the sun would be rising. He could feel the effects of his nightly stroll finally taking it's toll on him. He was thankful he had the opportunity to sleep a little before his classes in the afternoon.

He was sure she wasn't allotted such luxury. It was interesting really, looking at the two of them and how they've gone about their seven years at Hogwarts. Matt, toeing the line without causing too much trouble. He was probably one of the most controversial head boys in the last decade. He couldn't remember a Slytherin head boy in his previous six years.

But Jack...

Jack had the friends and, more often than not, the moral high ground. She would go on to do what she loved because she tried. Matt, well Matt didn't believe he was head boy until the first meeting with Sophia. He wouldn't admit it but he was a little bit jealous.

"Pity, I never have anyone to talk to." he smiled softly finishing his own cup and putting his thermos away.

Histories of rivalries. Probably histories of moments like this too, though they wouldn't be remembered; a lion and a snake bedding down in the grass for a quick respite, hidden from the others at the watering hole. Jack didn't think school cliques was a noble enough cause for her to rally against, so she doubted she'd do anything to disrupt that history. But she wouldn't feed it. She was at odds with whoever was against her - it didn't need matter what color lined their robes.

She was glad to know they were in agreement about that at least. Not like they were the poster children for inner-House peace.

She rolled her head to look at him, catching the almost bemused look on his face. He was far off, steeped in his own thoughts. And that was okay. She'd leave him to it. She was a lot of things - conducive to introspection, she was not.

She rolled up, standing and brushing herself off, trying to knock away some of the dew and grass. She'd work extra hard tonight. She'd finish the Potions essay before class, work on Charms in History of Magic. And she'd get to sleep an extra hour, knowing (most) of her schoolwork was done.

She reached out, lightly kicking Matt's shoe. "Then stop punching 'em." She gave him a smirk. Always leave them with the smirk.

And then she left for the castle, leaving with her secrets and sweat, leaving him with his thermos and thoughts.