She went for a run each morning before she did her yoga. It was how she stayed sane. And how, at least to a certain extent, she did so well in her classes. Most of the students seemed to believe that all you had to do was say the word right and flick your wand properly for a spell to come off well. Lily believed firmly that it was also about your state of mind. You had to feel the spell.
She was already better at nonverbal spells than most seventh years, and her verbal spells seemed more powerful too.
Improving her magic hadn't been the motivation behind starting yoga. She had just needed a release, a way to settle her mind and calm her spirit. Being at Hogwarts was a bit like being put in a tiny wooden box, with little cracks between the slats to let in light, and a roomful of people banging on the outside of it, shouting insults at you. If you let the external stimuli overwhelm you, you were done for. Instead, she found a place within herself that none of them could touch.
Of course, the git had started intruding on that space. She breathed deeply, barely winded after a mile. She had decided to take his presence as a challenge, a way to push her practice, improve her strength of mind. Unfortunately, that meant she had been putting up with the idiot every morning for weeks now. She upped her pace a bit. At least he had the decency to bring homework.
As she neared the area she used to practice her yoga, she slowed, rather than bypassing it to do a few more miles. Someone was there. Silently, she crept up to the clearing.
She held back a laugh.
The git had brought out a blanket (which he clearly hadn't thought to impervious, as it was already quite muddy), and was attempting to lift himself into Scorpion. She gave him credit for remember to start from a forearm stand, which he pulled off better than she would have expected. Of course, he had clearly underestimated the amount of flexibility and upper body strength required to move into Scorpion from the stand. She snorted as she watched him overbalance and face plant.
He pushed himself up, looking over at her.
"You'll hurt yourself like that," she said. He had managed to get himself muddy despite the blanket.
He sat up, considering her. "How do you do it?" He shook his head. "You make it look easy."
She shrugged. "I've been at it for a while. And I had the sense to progress at a reasonable pace, not jump head first into a difficult pose."
"And if I wanted to progress at a reasonable pace, what would that entail?" he asked.
She shrugged again. "A lot of Downward Dog and Plank; a load of Warrior poses and other early stuff."
He cocked his head at her. "Would you teach me?"
She blinked slowly. "You want me to teach you yoga?"
He nodded.
"Aren't you supposed to be off shagging easy girls and winning quidditch cups?" she asked caustically.
He shook his head. "I've never played quidditch," he said.
She raised her eyebrows. "Or shagged an easy girl?" She couldn't resist taking the piss. He blushed at the drop of a hat.
He tried to respond, but his voice cracked and she laughed even harder. Deciding it was time to take pity on him, she lifted the edge of the blanket he had been using as a mat.
"First lesson," she said. "Always impervious your mat – or blanket – before beginning your practice outside."