Sunday morning rolled around and the Duelling Hall was uncommonly quiet. Normally at this time of day, a few of the team were either already awake to train or still up from studying. This morning though, all team members were still hugging their pillows. The last few weeks had been exhausting. While some enjoyed the challenge, others hoped that the strain would lessen or they may well have to drop out of the program. Lorelei was one of the first to roll out of her bed. In comfy jammies and a tank top, she made her way downstairs and into the kitchen. This one was a far cry from the one in her old dorm. This kitchen was a chef's dream. Everything shiny and new. And it had one of those fancy coffee machines that could basically do everything. However there was also an old fashioned coffee maker next to it. Most of them used the old fashioned coffee machine during the week, but since it was the weekend, Lorelei decided she would indulge and got herself a steaming latte machiato. Humming in delight, she took a sip. Shuffling to the cupboards, she rooted around, until she found the toast and started making some breakfast for herself.
"Morning." The low rumble had her almost jump and turn around quickly. James was standing in the doorway. He was also clothed comfortably in track pants and a t-shirt. Sighing she hit him on the bicep, when he stepped closer.
"For someone as big as you, you sure move as silent as a cat." She complained. He only shrugged.
"My gran doesn't like noise." He responded, but didn't explain further. Unlike the others, Lorelei didn't mind that James was tight-lipped. He was private and she could respect that. Besides, they weren't exactly friends. Sure, they had trained together and sometimes even studied together, but apart from that, they'd hardly shared more than a few sentences concerning their private lives. She wouldn't even know where to begin a discussion.
"Want some toast as well, James?" She asked politely, while putting hers into the toaster. James shook his head and pulled out a pot.
"No, thank you. I'm making porridge. You want any?" Her face pulled into a disgusted grimace at this. His face didn't change expression. He simply waited for her response.
"Ah, no. Thanks for asking." Shrugging, he turned back to the pot he'd put on the stove and poured milk he'd taken from the fridge into it. Lorelei proceeded to get some jam and other spreads from the fridge. Setting it on the kitchen island, she sat on one of the high chairs next to it, took her cup and took another sip. Sighing in appreciation, she relaxed and looked out the window. The day promised to be filled with sunshine and she thought about what she'd be doing today. The last weeks had taken a toll on her as all the others. She'd needed the day in yesterday, but today she was in the mood for a bit of more active relaxation. Maybe she'd grab her broom and go for a bit of flying. She hadn't been in ages.
"Do you play quidditch?" She asked James, who was preparing his breakfast next to her. Slowly and carefully stirring the pot with the milk. He shook his head. Astonished she collected her warmed toast and put more into the toaster. "You serious?! A man who doesn't play quidditch. Hold the presses! I need to get my calendar and make a notation. This is big news." She laid it on a bit thick, but it had the desired effect. Namely a chuckle from the quiet man. He threw her an amused glance and raised an eyebrow.
"I like the sport just like any man. Flying isn't a good idea in our neighbourhood. Too close to muggles." He explained. Confused she spread a bit of jam on her toast.
"So? Lots of muggles around my neighbourhood too. We still had a quidditch pitch where everyone could play or simply take a flight around." He shrugged and poured the oat flakes into the heated milk.
"After a gang took over our pitch, the city stopped funding and maintaining the muggle repellant charms. Anyone caught on a broom is fined. Fine's so high, none of us could ever afford it. So we stopped playing." He explained in his neutral tone. She was aghast at this, but he explained it, as if it was no big deal. Probably because for him it wasn't. It was simply a fact of life. Clearing her throat and shaking her head, she put her toast down.
"Alright. That settles it. You're coming flying with me." She nodded to herself. Frowning he turned to her, still stirring the pot behind him on auto-pilot.
"Why?" He asked.
"Why?" She stared at him agog. "To get you out of your head! Feel the rush of air, the freedom of it!" She explained passionately. He grunted, shook his head and turned back to his pot.
"Thanks, but no. I've got a lot of studying to do." Groaning she ruffled her hair.
"All of us have a lot of studying to do. But constantly studying doesn't help. You need to clear your head from time to time or nothing will stick. Trust me." Expectantly she waited for him to respond.
"Thanks again, but I have a lot more catching up to do. Maybe next year. If I make it that long." He pulled the porridge from the hob and spooned it onto a plate. A dollop of honey was the only sweetener he put on. She heroically ignored the grey paste which didn't look like anything edible.
"What do you mean if you make it that long? Of course you will. You're doing great!" She tried to cheer him up.
"In duelling, maybe. In classes not so much. I am working on about four to three hours of sleep a night. I'm used to hard work and not much sleep, but this is different. My jobs didn't require much. Here I have to be alert and observant all the time. Straining." Looking at the porridge, James decided he wanted a little crunch and fetched an apple and a knife. Quickly he had the apple sliced into small slices, mixing them into the porridge with his spoon. Lorelei watched him, chewed on her toast and pondered his words.
She had been fortunate and never truly had to work to earn a living. Sure, she'd taken small jobs to complement her allowance, but she'd never been dependant on a job. And what James said was very true. The small jobs she'd held were repetitive and didn't require much attention if you'd done it a few times, you pretty much went on auto pilot. Even if he'd held more than one of those jobs, it wouldn't be exhausting mentally. Being in class was a whole different ball game. Especially if you had a lot of catching up to do. You had to pay attention and concentrate all the time. She knew from experience that after about half an hour her ability to concentrate started to dip and she would forget or miss stuff.
"We can always team up, you know. I know for a fact that most are taking turns in taking notes during class. Or to compare their notes later, when they study or work on assignments." She offered. James looked up from his breakfast, a slight smile tugging at his mouth.
"We're already doing that." He pointed out. Lorelei shook her head and got up to get another coffee. She lifted her cup in question at him and he shook his head.
"That's nice and all, but it won't help. You need to find somebody who's already ahead of you. They learn more by explaining it to you and you learn quicker by having stuff explained to you, who's on the same level." She pointed out. Mulling this over, he set down his bowl.
"Would you? Study with us?" He seemed a little surprised. Taking her cup and sitting back down, she nodded and blew on her latte.
"Sure. We're all part of the team, right? Besides, you're serious about this whole thing. Some of the others think this is a lark. Like being on the quidditch team. If we were just training to duel, sure, but with all the other stuff, I get a different vibe."
"Me too. I'm doing this for the degree I'll be able to get though. I overheard the guards talking after Professor Granger's class and the whole program is apparently designed to train new, better guards. I've seen enough violence. Don't need more of it." His face darkened a bit. She nodded, but kept still. She had surmised that the Southies may have had bad experiences. Hell, news about muggings, drug deals and murders in South Salem were almost daily occurences.
"I get it. But on the other hand, I think this is a good idea. Just think about it. A guard trained as a duellist would be a great asset. Count in the fact, that they'll be passable potioneers as well and they'll be much better prepared to deal with some of the creeps running around. I for one am seriously thinking about sticking with this and maybe even switching my majors. My parents will have conniptions, but it seems a worthy cause." She sat a little straighter, waiting for him to talk her out of it, just like almost all her friends had done, when she'd voiced her intentions. He only nodded. Surprised she waited for more, but nothing came.
"You're not trying to talk me out of it?" She blurted out at last. His lips twisted again in his minimalist smile.
"Why would I? It's your decision, your life. And I'm not your father." At the last he winked, startling a laugh from her. They continued their breakfast and when they were finishing up and cleaning the kitchen, some of the others trickled in. Soon the discussion turned to the good weather and the question of when they would hit the quidditch pitch. When James declined again, all the others teamed up to convince him to come.
"Listen, man. Studying all the time will only make you tense and that means you won't retain any of the stuff you tried cramming. Trust me, I tried that." Gunter pointed out. Francis nodded next to him.
"Yeah, James. Relaxation is important. Taking a break for a few hours won't kill you and I'll help with studying later. Deal?" James looked at the hand Francis offered and then to the others around him. It surprised him that all these people were so eager for him to relax and have a good time. Especially since he knew maybe two or three of them better. None of them were his friends. Hesitantly he took Francis' hand.
"Deal." He mumbled and got swept away with the rest, who were storming upstairs to change and fetch their brooms.
"You can fly on mine, if you want." Francis offered. "I'll play if someone picks me for their team, but that happens only rarely. I like flying, but not quidditch. I flinch when the ball gets thrown my way." James inclined his head.
"Good reflex in general. Who would want to get hit by a quaffle in the face?" He asked sardonically. Francis chuckled, having become used to James' brand of humour.
"See you outside in a minute. I'll get my broom and ask the others if they want to come as well. Maybe Jamal, Francesca or Keisha would like to fly as well. Emilio went for a run, I think." Francis called over his shoulder, while walking briskly to his room. James nodded and went to his own room to put on some shoes and a t-shirt. Maybe a few hours just relaxing would be helpful. The others had more experience in these matters and heeding their advice seemed only logical.
Author's note: I am sorry for my long absence. I had to travel for work and was then doing catch-up when I got back to my regular job. I realise it's not much currently, but I am finally getting time to write again. :) I'll have more soon. Have a good one. ;)