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Post by Sidney W. Meade on Jun 11, 2012 20:31:23 GMT -5
"Right." she said as she leaned in to the window like he had. Her body moved in closer and she pointed toward the handle. She pointed to the rich mahogany handle with its lacquered shine glistening in the afternoon light that filtered in behind them.
"The handle is mahogany. It is sturdy but the shape helps cut down on wind resistance. You go faster as you lean forward, which I am sure you already knew, She looked over to him hoping that he wasn't offended by her giving him a lesson about the broom. but the design lets you lean closer to the wood so you go faster.
Her finger moved to the "not so twiggy" end of the broom, "You were right about the end being not so twiggy. It is narrower for a more streamlined design. The curve of the air over the rider stays more uniform plus with the density of the wood and the rider, the bristles add balance." Her father was very into brooms. He followed his favorite Quidditch teams and had taught her from a very young age the ins and outs of a good broom.
Sidney didn't like Quidditch as much as her father but she did support her house at games. She would never join the team but she assumed that her knowledge of brooms and ability to fly had been a large factor in her being sorted into Agrabah house.
"You can also tell people this model shows up the Furley 2011 by miles. I would make that statement definitive since you don't know much more to back it up. If you, you know, wanted to talk to people about it." She smiled over at him as she looked back to the broom wondering if she should wait until Christmas to ask for it. Her birthday had just passed and she would feel incredibly bratty if she asked for something so large so soon.
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Post by Peter Campanelli on Jun 12, 2012 8:52:07 GMT -5
For the most part, Peter kept his eyes on the broom as she described it, although he did cast a look or two in Sidney's direction. She knew her stuff, far more than he knew about brooms or flying, and unlike in their flying classes, it made sense when she said it. It was also possible he'd just given up on flying first year when he hadn't mastered it the very first time he tried, and therefore ignored the professor after that.
"Mahogany. Narrower end. Furley 2011." He repeated back with the air of someone committing something to memory then nodded once before turning fully toward her. "Not that I didn't know all that already, mind," His shit eating grin was back in full force. "You fly a lot?" For once, the question was genuinely about her, and not about how he could twist it into being about him.
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Post by Sidney W. Meade on Jun 12, 2012 9:37:28 GMT -5
"I never doubted that you did." Her grin matched his as she made a zipping motion over her lips and threw away the key. It would be their little secret that there was something Peter was unknowledgeable about. She wouldn't want to tarnish his reputation.
"Not for sport but yeah, I fly a fair amount." She looked back to the broom in the window. It really was a beautiful design. She had even read in The Prophet that the English National Team were all receiving them for the upcoming tournament. She thought briefly that maybe she should let Peter know that as well but he was probably already overloaded with the useless knowledge she just imparted on him.
"I prefer it to get around in this world. Hopefully when I pass my apparation test as well as my driving test I will have more options." She didn't tell many people she liked driving in the muggle world. She actually liked a lot of things about the muggle world. Sure, it took more time to get things done but it seemed that at times, magic took out the satisfaction of doing something. There was no joy in cooking or travelling just flick, swish, and done. "Are you going to take you driving test when you go home?"
"Anyway, do you just not like flying or are you not good at it?" Her eyes went back to the display and she felt a bit of heat spread across her cheeks. She couldn't believe she was considering this. He would probably shoot her down anyway. "I could give you lessons y'know. Nothing fancy, just how to not kill yourself on one."
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Post by Peter Campanelli on Jun 12, 2012 9:59:38 GMT -5
Peter was trying to remember if Sidney was muggle born, pure blood, or half blood, when she asked about flying and lessons. "Of course I'm good at it!" he blustered, then dropped the act. She'd already busted him, so the bragging was more out of habit than anything else.
"Just feels weird." He admitted. "I like the concept of flying, but who decided we should fly on brooms? Why can't we just... I don't know, think of something wonderful take off." His eyes had lost focus as he imagined soaring through the sky.
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Post by Sidney W. Meade on Jun 12, 2012 10:08:17 GMT -5
She watched as he flitted away into his imagination and she wondered what it was like to be him. He always had this childlike air about him, carefree, and for someone like Sidney who was always so serious and adult, she couldn't imagine what that felt like. "Maybe one day they'll come up with something like that. They're inventing new spells all of the time you know." She wondered if that offered any consolation but figured it didn't. Instead she let herself drift off and wondered what it would feel like to just fly on a whim. Rolling through clouds without regulations or a stick between your legs. She had to admit it sounded nice.
Coming back she asked again, "Did you want me to teach you? I am probably not the best teacher but like I said, I can at make sure you don't kill yourself on one."
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Post by Peter Campanelli on Jun 12, 2012 10:16:49 GMT -5
He liked that idea, that new spells were invented all the time and that it could happen. Maybe he would even be the one to invent a charm that allowed a person to fly on their own. Oh Peter liked that a lot a lot, nearly as much as he liked the idea of being the biggest rock star in the world.
And to make this charm, he probably needed to understand how the current flying mechanisms worked. "You should teach me how to fly." He proclaimed, having completely missed her offer. Both times.
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Post by Sidney W. Meade on Jun 12, 2012 10:43:04 GMT -5
What he had said had come out as a declaration. He hadn't answered her question, just declared that she should teach him how to fly. Had he missed her offering not just once but twice to teach him? "You do realize that I asked you twice," she held up two fingers, "if you wanted me to teach you. How do you do that? Just ignore and then, nevermind. It's a Peter thing." Shaking her head she pulled him away from the display and out into the street. "Are we still looking for the parlor or what are we doing because I could use a bit to eat if you wanted to."
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Post by Peter Campanelli on Jun 12, 2012 11:02:45 GMT -5
Pulled away from the window by Sidney, Peter looked around for a place to get something to eat. Now back in the main part of The Wood, there were more students milling around, including a couple of fifth year girls who ran up to them. Or more specifically, ran up to Peter.
"Peter! Is it true you went to Australia this past summer?" One of them blurted out before either Peter or Wendy could acknowledge their arrival.
"Did you really wrestle an alligator?" The other blurted out, eyes wide as she took Peter's free arm.
"Were you hurt?" The first asked, wedging her way between Sidney and his other arm.
Peter tossed Sid a look. "Rain check on the food, yeah? And I'll get back to you on that special project." He winked at her, eyes were twinkling then turned to his new companions, It was clearly a dismissal. "Now who has been telling stories about me?"
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Post by Sidney W. Meade on Jun 12, 2012 11:56:14 GMT -5
Sidney watched the girls with amusement and then disdain as they exaggerated Peter's exploits and then took him away from her. Not only did her hand feel empty, she felt a little dejected after Peter's dismissal.
"Yeah, sure." Sidney answered as he called back to her but by the time her words came out he had already turned back to his admirers and was making his way up the street.
Looking around, she was at a bit of a loss as to what to do. The idea of eating in general was appealing but eating alone, not so much. With a small sigh she decided to go back to the castle. She had some work she had been neglecting anyway and it was cheaper (free) to eat in the hall. The quiet provided by the trip was also a plus and with her mind now made up, she made her way through the crowd and toward the path back to school.
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