(no subject)
Figured I'd prove to all of you what a busy girl I've been, by giving in to the Sinn/Mars bunnies which are still chewing on my brain!
(Oh yeah, and TP's been updated. Hurrah!)
“Why won’t you let Mars give you a lift home?” Annie stared at Sinn from the depths of her armchair. Blinking confused brown eyes, she sipped her wine, before setting the glass on the floor. In the opposite armchair, Mars was curled up, his chin cradled in his hands, staring fixedly at Sinn. Annie, ignoring her brother’s obvious attempt to psychologically bully his friend into submission, continued with her argument.
“It makes sense, Sinn. It’ll take ages to walk home, and it’s dark outside.”
“And you have to go close to the Forbidden Forest!” Mars added.
“That has never bothered me before,” Sinn snapped, “and just because you have pointed it out doesn’t mean it’ll bother me now.” He frowned, lips pressed together in a stubborn line. “Honestly, both of you, you’re not my parents.”
“No, but we’re your friends,” Annie interjected, as Mars opened his mouth furiously to retort, his blue eyes sparking dangerously.
“She’s right,” Annie’s husband, Nicolas, interjected. “And it won’t take long on a broomstick. Five minutes, no more. You’ll be home before you can say ‘Mars is a terrible flyer’.”
“Which I am most definitely not.” The pointed glare that Nicolas received made Annie giggle - even Sinn smiled - and Mars settled further into his armchair, his honour restored. “Come on Sinn, why won’t you fly on the broomstick really? This is about the broomstick and not me, right?”
“Yes,” Sinn admitted grudgingly, “this is about the broomstick and not you.” He uncrossed his legs and stood up. “But now I really think it’s time for me to go.”
Annie, sensing that she’d learn no more from Sinn, nodded and smiled. “You be careful, and we’ll see you Sunday for lunch, as usual?” She waited for Sinn to nod, before standing up herself and hugging him. “Good luck with those papers, too. Mars has been telling us you’re having nightmares about marking them.” She laughed as Sinn shot Mars an arch glance, and her brother blinked innocently. “Mars, why don’t you go up to the castle with Sinn?”
“Why?” Mars frowned, reluctant to get out of his seat.
“Because I don’t like him walking back on his own.”
“Annie -” Sinn began, ready to protest.
“No excuses, my brother needs the fresh air, anyway. He hasn’t been outside all day.” She smiled as Mars huffed indignantly.
“Annie, I spend my whole life outside. My career as a teacher relies on me liking fresh air. One day indoors isn’t going to kill me.”
“No, but it makes you grumpy,” Nicolas said, gently teasing.
Mars grumbled, but stood up with a reluctant groan. “Right, ok then. I can see I’m going to get no peace until I go with you, Sinn.” He let out a long-suffering sigh. “I love the way Annie shows concern for you wandering out and about alone, but she doesn’t care one whit that I’ll have to come back in the dark without company.” He stuck out his tongue at his sister, who grinned and tugged Nicolas up.
“Yes, but you’re my brother. You should know that I’m concerned for you, even if I don’t say so.” She laughed and patted Sinn’s shoulder. “Besides, unlike you, Sinn has the advantage of not living with us, so I don’t see his bad side.”
“Ah, if you knew how wicked he was to me, you wouldn’t show half so much concern,” Mars promised, already half way out of the door. “Come on, Sinn. I don’t want to be hanging around half the night. There’s a bed upstairs with my name on it.”
Sinn rolled his eyes, said goodbye to Annie and Nicolas and followed the Sports teacher outside.
The night had turned cold, and the late hour meant there were very few lights left in the windows of houses in Hogsmeade. As Sinn and Mars walked towards Hogwarts, the stars became clearer. Silence stretched between the two men, broken only by the occasional pained grunt from Sinn as he twisted his ankle on the loose stones, or the sound of Mars’s quiet breathing.
“So,” the Sports teacher shattered the silence, pausing to peer up at the night sky. “You really won’t let me fly you back to the castle because you don’t like the broomstick?” There was a strange note in his voice - one Sinn couldn’t quite identify, but it made him nervous.
“Yes, why?”
Mars shook his head, refusing to reply. Instead, he started walking again. “Why don’t you like the broomstick? It’s perfectly safe, you know.” His shoulder bumped Sinn’s, as the Divinations teacher sidestepped around a small dip in the road. “I fly on it every day, and I’ve not had an accident yet.” There was a small chuckle. “Except for that one where I crashed into the greenhouse, of course.”
“It’s not you, and it’s not your broomstick,” Sinn muttered reluctantly, as they began climbing the hill. Hogwarts rose before them, black against the sky.
“What is it then?”
There was long pause. Sinn pursed his lips, walking in silence as he wondered whether Mars would laugh at him. The Sports teacher wisely kept quiet, and it wasn’t until they were crossing the courtyard to the main door, that Sinn spoke again.
“I’m afraid of heights,” he admitted, then waited for the inevitable amused outburst from Mars.
Which never came.
“Oh.”
Sinn stared. “‘Oh’?” he repeated in disbelief. “That’s all you have to say?” He shook his head. “I have never heard you react so calmly to something as stupid as this.” He hesitated, hand half outstretched to push open the front door as they came to a halt in front of it. “Alright, who are you and what have you done with the real Mars?” Sinn raised an eyebrow, his characteristic cynicism asserting itself.
“Well…” Mars shrugged. “You’ve never really confessed something like this before.”
“It’s hardly a confession,” Sinn said dryly, shoving the door open and stepping through. “More like, you’re in rather an odd mood tonight, so I thought I’d take my chances and tell you. Since,” he continued, raising an eyebrow, “I know you would have pestered me anyway until I told you.”
“I wouldn’t have,” Mars protested, following Sinn across the entrance hall. “I would have been much more subtle in extracting the information.” He grinned good-naturedly. “I would have bribed you with cigarettes.”
“Bribed me with cigarettes,” Sinn muttered, half to himself, half to the world. His expression was barely visible in the dim, flickering torchlight of the castle, but the glitter of his dark eyes made Mars’s stomach jump in a funny way that he was beginning to associate more and more with being around Sinn. He listened as Sinn let out a small, reluctant chuckle, and nearly walked into a wall, because he’d stopped paying attention to where he was going.
“Careful!” Sinn grabbed his arm, steadying him as he reeled back - his staggering almost comical.
“Sorry.” Mars shook his head in disbelief, running frustrated fingers through his hair, which was not bound in its customary tail. “My mind was wandering.”
“Not an unusual occurrence.” Not that long ago, the sentence would have had a sharp edge to it, but Sinn’s voice was merely faintly amused instead of irritated.
“Yeah.” Mars stared at Sinn’s hand, which was still resting on his arm. Frowning, he mentally shook himself, then tilted his head thoughtfully. “So, afraid of heights, eh?”
Sinn nodded reluctantly, and blinked in surprise when Mars merely looked contemplative, absently fiddling with a piece of long blond hair. The Sports teacher stared at a point past Sinn’s right ear and blinked, a smile beginning to curve his lips.
“Well,” he said eventually. “I’d best be off home then. Annie will want me inside before she locks up for the night.” Not bothering to explain his sudden change of mood, he grinned at Sinn - who was still staring at him as though he had grown a second head - and patted his arm. “See you in the morning then, eh? Bright and early, because I’m not eating breakfast on my own at the staff table.”
Not waiting for a reply, he strode off, leaving Sinn with the vague, irritated feeling that his friend was up to something.
AaAaAaAa
It was common knowledge that Sinn was not a morning person.
This had been established not long after he’d first arrived at Hogwarts, when Mars - in a rare moment of spite - had broken into his small flat in the Divinations Tower and dumped a bucket of water on his head. The resulting yell that had emitted from the room, surprisingly enough, had not come from Sinn, but from Mars, who had been punched with vicious precision. Sinn had then simply rolled over, soaking wet, and gone back to sleep, leaving the angry Sports teacher to tend to his bleeding nose.
It was with some surprise, therefore, that Sinn reluctantly found himself surfacing from a deep sleep not long after five o’clock in the morning. Without opening his eyes, he managed to discern two things: he was not alone in his room, and something was very gently tickling the tip of his nose.
Taking the first matter as the more serious, Sinn ran through a mental list of anyone who had access to his home. Professors Maple and McGonagall did, but he doubted either of them would be out of bed this early. Dumbledore, of course, never slept, but it seemed unlikely he would need Sinn for anything - besides, he didn’t have a key. (Not that this would stop him - Sinn was a great believer in Dumbledore’s ability to get anywhere within Hogwarts.) The only other person who could get into Sinn’s flat was Mars, and Mars was also the only one mad enough to be awake at five in the morning.
Pleased to have resolved one issue without even opening his eyes, Sinn rolled over, absently rubbing his nose, which was now itching.
“Sinn?” A gentle poke.
Sinn screwed his eyes shut as tight as possible, trying to fight the inevitable process that had begun in his body: waking up.
“Si-inn?” Another poke, and when this failed to provoke a reaction, the feeling of a hand gently smoothing through his hair.
Sinn sat bolt upright, and with uncanny aim, smacked Mars in the face with a pillow. The Sports teacher toppled off the edge of the bed with a startled yell, and managed to crash into the bedside table on the way down - knocking off a glass of water and a stack of books.
“Ow.” Mars rubbed the back of his head and stared accusingly up at Sinn from his sprawled position on the floor. The Divinations teacher stared back in surprise - his hand hovering in mid-air as he held the pillow menacingly. All thoughts of maiming Mars had flown from his head, though, as he took in the Sports teacher’s appearance. Normally, his friend was clad in Muggle clothing - casual trousers and a t-shirt - because robes simply weren’t practical when you spent half your life on a broom. Now, however, Mars was wearing robes; thick blue ones that matched his eyes and made him look rather…
attractive…
Sinn swallowed, then remembered where he was, who this was, and what time it was. So he hurled the pillow at Mars and flopped back down onto his bed, his lips pressed together into a furious line. There was a low sound of protest from the floor before a hand appeared over the edge of the mattress, and Mars used it to haul himself to his feet.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he complained.
“Why have you woken me up?” Sinn demanded, sounding slightly angrier than he had intended. “And come to think of it, what are you doing in my room this early in the morning?” He glared at Mars, who had the decency to look slightly repentant.
“I wanted to help you.”
“Help me do what?” Sinn was still angry, but he felt a small spark of curiosity welling up inside. Ruthlessly, he squashed it.
“Get over your fear of heights, of course,” Mars said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“At five o’clock in the morning?” Sinn snarled, sitting up again and folding his arms.
“Yes, best time to confront your fears.” Mars hesitated, then held out his hand. “Trust me.”
“I never trust you, especially when you say ‘trust me’.” Ignoring Mars’s hurt look, Sinn scowled and got out of bed. Throwing on some clothes, he turned around again, now horribly aware that he was awake no matter what, and so he might as well go along with whatever scheme his friend had come up with. Relenting slightly, he allowed his face to lose some of its anger. “What do you have in mind?”
Mars’s eyes gleamed in the pre-dawn light. “It’s a surprise.”
“A surprise,” Sinn repeated dubiously. “What kind of surprise? And what’s with the -” he gestured to Mars’s robes.
“It was cold this morning,” Mars said, in the tone of voice one would use on a very small child. “So I put on something warm.”
“Don’t patronize me!” Sinn snapped, but edged cautiously around the bed.
“Sorry, sorry.” Mars held up his hands in a placating gesture, then nodded towards the door. “Shall we go?”
“Go where?” Sinn sounded suspicious, but he was already heading for the door. He was stopped, however, by a hand on his arm. Turning, he raised an eyebrow at Mars, who smiled, slowly.
“I have to blindfold you.”
“What?” Sinn swallowed, suddenly a lot less confident. “Mars, what does height have to do with not being able to see? I mean, my fear comes when I see the height, so if you blindfold me, I’m not exactly confronting my fear, am I?” Although his voice was sharp with exasperation, there was a hint of nervousness that made Mars fight back a tiny, triumphant grin.
“It’ll make sense eventually, I promise,” he said. “I know it’s not in your nature, but just this once, Sinn, trust me?”
“Fine.” It was barely more than a grudging whisper, but Mars nearly howled in triumph. Sinn stared up at the Sports teacher, his brown eyes unusually serious. “But if you do anything to upset me, I’ll make sure I kill you myself.”
“Understood,” Mars said cheerfully, then dug in his pocket for the blindfold. “Hold still,” he murmured, carefully wrapping it around Sinn’s head - covering his eyes and knotting it firmly.
Sinn tensed as his vision was blotted out, but as he slowly relaxed, he began to notice that his other senses were improving. He heard the scrape as the door was opened, then nearly jumped as Mars took his hand, guiding him out into the corridor. A faint breeze brushed his cheeks, and he bit his lip, unable to ascertain which direction they were heading in. Their footsteps echoed eerily in the empty corridor, and he began to lose all sense of time as they kept moving.
Abruptly, Mars made him halt, and there was the sound of another door opening. The faint breeze suddenly became stronger, and Sinn drew in a deep breath, shivering in the cold morning air that swirled around him.
“Ok, nearly there.” Mars’s voice was cheerful, and Sinn resisted the urge to reach out blindly and attempt to throttle his friend. No one, in his opinion, should be this happy at just gone five in the morning. Nor should they be taking an unholy amount of delight in getting their friend to face his worst fear. He swallowed, and rubbed his sweating hands against his robes, suddenly wishing he’d simply stayed in bed.
As Mars led him forwards a few more steps, the breeze became stronger, and Sinn viciously fought down the urge to attack the hand that was guiding him, rip off the blindfold and flee as fast as possible in the opposite direction. He scowled and tried to squash the uncharacteristic panic, just as they halted again.
“Right, I’m going to take the blindfold off in a minute,” Mars announced, his hands now on Sinn’s shoulders. “But first you need to step up.”
“Step up? Where the hell are we?” Sinn snapped, his body tensing.
“Just trust me. Step up.”
Feeling rather as though he was going through some kind of ridiculous pantomime, Sinn lifted his leg as high as he could, stretched it a little, then brought it down. He was rather surprised when his foot landed on a small ledge, and he carefully stepped up, hoping against hope that this was all an elaborate joke, and that Mars was actually leading him into the Divinations classroom.
“Ok.” There was the sudden feeling of movement behind him, and Sinn felt the gentle loosening of the blindfold. “When I remove this, I want you to stay as calm as possible.”
“I’m not a child!” Sinn snarled, but it was half in fear. His fists clenched, and he felt his nails digging into his palm, he remained taught as the blindfold slipped from his eyes, and he blinked as he was dazzled by the early morning sun, which peered over the horizon. Hissing, he squinted, trying to see past the tears that had sprung up in reaction to his sudden partial blindness.
A strong gust of wind made him totter slightly, and Mars’s hands clamped around his waist. Without thinking about it, Sinn looked down.
And yelled.
He was up high.
Very, very high.
Sinn’s first thought was something along the lines of: ‘I HATE heights. Why does the ground always look so bloody hard from up here?’ Hot on the heels of that piece of self-enlightenment, however, was the more sinister notion that he was going to kill Mars in the slowest, most painful way possible. And then when he was done, he was going to hang his friend’s mutilated body on a wall outside his office as a warning to all others who followed after and were interested in the ridiculous notions of self-improvement and fear conquering.
“Don’t look down.” Mars’s voice cut through his haze of terror and rage and Sinn discovered, much to his embarrassment, that he was breathing in short, panicked gasps, and clinging quite hard to Mars’s hands, which were still resting on his waist. “Look up, stare at the horizon.”
“Kill…you…” Sinn managed from between gritted teeth, his gaze riveted to the long drop that was inches from his toes. “Not…fucking…funny!”
Mars’s fingers tightened around Sinn’s own, and then slowly began forcing Sinn to move his arms up and away from his body until they were outspread at shoulder height. Apart from this, Sinn remained frozen, completely paralysed and stuck somewhere between terror and another sudden burst of absolute murderous intent. It was only when Mars repeated his initial command, that he raised his head, just slightly, trying to tear his eyes from the sight of the ground spread out far below him.
“It’s not safe up here,” he managed, quelling the urge to stamp on Mars’s foot. That, he reasoned, would be a Very Stupid Idea. Not least of all because Mars was the only thing holding him upright and stopping him from tottering off the edge of this very high tower.
An undignified squeak emerged from between Sinn’s lips as one of Mars’s hand moved, gripping his chin firmly from behind and tilting his head up, so that he had no choice but to stare at the horizon. As he took deep, calming breaths, Sinn had to admit it wasn’t as bad when you weren’t looking down. The only problem was that once Mars removed his hand, he knew he’d inevitably stare at the ground again. The damn thing was so far away.
And hard. Mustn’t forget that.
“I want,” Sinn said, with remarkable calmness and clarity, “to get down. Now. I have had enough of facing my fears for one day, and I will bite your hand if you do not get me off of here within the next ten seconds.”
A sigh ruffled his hair, and Mars nodded. “Alright kitty cat. We’re getting down.” There was a tug, and Sinn staggered ungracefully backwards off the small ledge and onto blessed, solid flagstones. He half hysterically considered getting down on his knees and kissing them, but decided against it in favour of rounding on Mars.
“NEVER again! Do you hear me? WHERE did you come up with this idea? Honestly, you are just so…so…” Sinn snarled, unable to think of a word, and still shaking with terrified adrenaline. He waved a finger under Mars’s nose, his expression slightly psychotic and more than a little murderous. “I mean REALLY…” he began again, curling his fingers into fists, to hide the trembling. “Never been…hardly appropriate…FIVE O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING!” he managed eventually, further enraged by the fact that Mars was simply standing there, staring at him.
“You’re not making much sense,” the Sports teacher pointed out pragmatically, folding his arms. Nonetheless, he looked faintly amused.
“If I’m not making much sense, it’s your fault!” Sinn snapped, and turned away. Unfortunately, this left him staring straight towards the edge of the tower, so he turned around again. “I’m going down for breakfast.” He shoved past Mars, who frowned and grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
“What?” Sinn’s eyes were dark in early morning light.
“I’m sorry, I was just trying to help.”
“I - ” Sinn’s lips pressed together in a thin line, and his gaze flickered to Mars’s hand, which was still on his arm, then back up to his friend’s face. Fighting down the nearly overwhelming irritation that was still flooding through him, he tried to think logically. Rubbing his forehead, and feeling the beginnings of a headache, he finally frowned and nodded abruptly. “I know,” he admitted.
Mars smiled and released his arm. “Alright then. Breakfast.” He nodded towards the tower door, but Sinn hesitated, his expression wavering between its normal disdainful countenance and a strange new one, that flickered briefly across his face before vanishing before Mars’s eyes. Shrugging, the Sports teacher pushed open the door himself, intent on finding breakfast. He was stopped, however, by a quiet voice from behind him.
“Mars? Thank you.”
Mars turned, but Sinn was already stomping towards him, face set as normal. If it weren’t for the slight flicker in his eyes, Mars would have sworn the words had never been uttered. As Sinn pushed past him, he reached out, lightly touching his friend’s arm.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly.
(Oh yeah, and TP's been updated. Hurrah!)
“Why won’t you let Mars give you a lift home?” Annie stared at Sinn from the depths of her armchair. Blinking confused brown eyes, she sipped her wine, before setting the glass on the floor. In the opposite armchair, Mars was curled up, his chin cradled in his hands, staring fixedly at Sinn. Annie, ignoring her brother’s obvious attempt to psychologically bully his friend into submission, continued with her argument.
“It makes sense, Sinn. It’ll take ages to walk home, and it’s dark outside.”
“And you have to go close to the Forbidden Forest!” Mars added.
“That has never bothered me before,” Sinn snapped, “and just because you have pointed it out doesn’t mean it’ll bother me now.” He frowned, lips pressed together in a stubborn line. “Honestly, both of you, you’re not my parents.”
“No, but we’re your friends,” Annie interjected, as Mars opened his mouth furiously to retort, his blue eyes sparking dangerously.
“She’s right,” Annie’s husband, Nicolas, interjected. “And it won’t take long on a broomstick. Five minutes, no more. You’ll be home before you can say ‘Mars is a terrible flyer’.”
“Which I am most definitely not.” The pointed glare that Nicolas received made Annie giggle - even Sinn smiled - and Mars settled further into his armchair, his honour restored. “Come on Sinn, why won’t you fly on the broomstick really? This is about the broomstick and not me, right?”
“Yes,” Sinn admitted grudgingly, “this is about the broomstick and not you.” He uncrossed his legs and stood up. “But now I really think it’s time for me to go.”
Annie, sensing that she’d learn no more from Sinn, nodded and smiled. “You be careful, and we’ll see you Sunday for lunch, as usual?” She waited for Sinn to nod, before standing up herself and hugging him. “Good luck with those papers, too. Mars has been telling us you’re having nightmares about marking them.” She laughed as Sinn shot Mars an arch glance, and her brother blinked innocently. “Mars, why don’t you go up to the castle with Sinn?”
“Why?” Mars frowned, reluctant to get out of his seat.
“Because I don’t like him walking back on his own.”
“Annie -” Sinn began, ready to protest.
“No excuses, my brother needs the fresh air, anyway. He hasn’t been outside all day.” She smiled as Mars huffed indignantly.
“Annie, I spend my whole life outside. My career as a teacher relies on me liking fresh air. One day indoors isn’t going to kill me.”
“No, but it makes you grumpy,” Nicolas said, gently teasing.
Mars grumbled, but stood up with a reluctant groan. “Right, ok then. I can see I’m going to get no peace until I go with you, Sinn.” He let out a long-suffering sigh. “I love the way Annie shows concern for you wandering out and about alone, but she doesn’t care one whit that I’ll have to come back in the dark without company.” He stuck out his tongue at his sister, who grinned and tugged Nicolas up.
“Yes, but you’re my brother. You should know that I’m concerned for you, even if I don’t say so.” She laughed and patted Sinn’s shoulder. “Besides, unlike you, Sinn has the advantage of not living with us, so I don’t see his bad side.”
“Ah, if you knew how wicked he was to me, you wouldn’t show half so much concern,” Mars promised, already half way out of the door. “Come on, Sinn. I don’t want to be hanging around half the night. There’s a bed upstairs with my name on it.”
Sinn rolled his eyes, said goodbye to Annie and Nicolas and followed the Sports teacher outside.
The night had turned cold, and the late hour meant there were very few lights left in the windows of houses in Hogsmeade. As Sinn and Mars walked towards Hogwarts, the stars became clearer. Silence stretched between the two men, broken only by the occasional pained grunt from Sinn as he twisted his ankle on the loose stones, or the sound of Mars’s quiet breathing.
“So,” the Sports teacher shattered the silence, pausing to peer up at the night sky. “You really won’t let me fly you back to the castle because you don’t like the broomstick?” There was a strange note in his voice - one Sinn couldn’t quite identify, but it made him nervous.
“Yes, why?”
Mars shook his head, refusing to reply. Instead, he started walking again. “Why don’t you like the broomstick? It’s perfectly safe, you know.” His shoulder bumped Sinn’s, as the Divinations teacher sidestepped around a small dip in the road. “I fly on it every day, and I’ve not had an accident yet.” There was a small chuckle. “Except for that one where I crashed into the greenhouse, of course.”
“It’s not you, and it’s not your broomstick,” Sinn muttered reluctantly, as they began climbing the hill. Hogwarts rose before them, black against the sky.
“What is it then?”
There was long pause. Sinn pursed his lips, walking in silence as he wondered whether Mars would laugh at him. The Sports teacher wisely kept quiet, and it wasn’t until they were crossing the courtyard to the main door, that Sinn spoke again.
“I’m afraid of heights,” he admitted, then waited for the inevitable amused outburst from Mars.
Which never came.
“Oh.”
Sinn stared. “‘Oh’?” he repeated in disbelief. “That’s all you have to say?” He shook his head. “I have never heard you react so calmly to something as stupid as this.” He hesitated, hand half outstretched to push open the front door as they came to a halt in front of it. “Alright, who are you and what have you done with the real Mars?” Sinn raised an eyebrow, his characteristic cynicism asserting itself.
“Well…” Mars shrugged. “You’ve never really confessed something like this before.”
“It’s hardly a confession,” Sinn said dryly, shoving the door open and stepping through. “More like, you’re in rather an odd mood tonight, so I thought I’d take my chances and tell you. Since,” he continued, raising an eyebrow, “I know you would have pestered me anyway until I told you.”
“I wouldn’t have,” Mars protested, following Sinn across the entrance hall. “I would have been much more subtle in extracting the information.” He grinned good-naturedly. “I would have bribed you with cigarettes.”
“Bribed me with cigarettes,” Sinn muttered, half to himself, half to the world. His expression was barely visible in the dim, flickering torchlight of the castle, but the glitter of his dark eyes made Mars’s stomach jump in a funny way that he was beginning to associate more and more with being around Sinn. He listened as Sinn let out a small, reluctant chuckle, and nearly walked into a wall, because he’d stopped paying attention to where he was going.
“Careful!” Sinn grabbed his arm, steadying him as he reeled back - his staggering almost comical.
“Sorry.” Mars shook his head in disbelief, running frustrated fingers through his hair, which was not bound in its customary tail. “My mind was wandering.”
“Not an unusual occurrence.” Not that long ago, the sentence would have had a sharp edge to it, but Sinn’s voice was merely faintly amused instead of irritated.
“Yeah.” Mars stared at Sinn’s hand, which was still resting on his arm. Frowning, he mentally shook himself, then tilted his head thoughtfully. “So, afraid of heights, eh?”
Sinn nodded reluctantly, and blinked in surprise when Mars merely looked contemplative, absently fiddling with a piece of long blond hair. The Sports teacher stared at a point past Sinn’s right ear and blinked, a smile beginning to curve his lips.
“Well,” he said eventually. “I’d best be off home then. Annie will want me inside before she locks up for the night.” Not bothering to explain his sudden change of mood, he grinned at Sinn - who was still staring at him as though he had grown a second head - and patted his arm. “See you in the morning then, eh? Bright and early, because I’m not eating breakfast on my own at the staff table.”
Not waiting for a reply, he strode off, leaving Sinn with the vague, irritated feeling that his friend was up to something.
AaAaAaAa
It was common knowledge that Sinn was not a morning person.
This had been established not long after he’d first arrived at Hogwarts, when Mars - in a rare moment of spite - had broken into his small flat in the Divinations Tower and dumped a bucket of water on his head. The resulting yell that had emitted from the room, surprisingly enough, had not come from Sinn, but from Mars, who had been punched with vicious precision. Sinn had then simply rolled over, soaking wet, and gone back to sleep, leaving the angry Sports teacher to tend to his bleeding nose.
It was with some surprise, therefore, that Sinn reluctantly found himself surfacing from a deep sleep not long after five o’clock in the morning. Without opening his eyes, he managed to discern two things: he was not alone in his room, and something was very gently tickling the tip of his nose.
Taking the first matter as the more serious, Sinn ran through a mental list of anyone who had access to his home. Professors Maple and McGonagall did, but he doubted either of them would be out of bed this early. Dumbledore, of course, never slept, but it seemed unlikely he would need Sinn for anything - besides, he didn’t have a key. (Not that this would stop him - Sinn was a great believer in Dumbledore’s ability to get anywhere within Hogwarts.) The only other person who could get into Sinn’s flat was Mars, and Mars was also the only one mad enough to be awake at five in the morning.
Pleased to have resolved one issue without even opening his eyes, Sinn rolled over, absently rubbing his nose, which was now itching.
“Sinn?” A gentle poke.
Sinn screwed his eyes shut as tight as possible, trying to fight the inevitable process that had begun in his body: waking up.
“Si-inn?” Another poke, and when this failed to provoke a reaction, the feeling of a hand gently smoothing through his hair.
Sinn sat bolt upright, and with uncanny aim, smacked Mars in the face with a pillow. The Sports teacher toppled off the edge of the bed with a startled yell, and managed to crash into the bedside table on the way down - knocking off a glass of water and a stack of books.
“Ow.” Mars rubbed the back of his head and stared accusingly up at Sinn from his sprawled position on the floor. The Divinations teacher stared back in surprise - his hand hovering in mid-air as he held the pillow menacingly. All thoughts of maiming Mars had flown from his head, though, as he took in the Sports teacher’s appearance. Normally, his friend was clad in Muggle clothing - casual trousers and a t-shirt - because robes simply weren’t practical when you spent half your life on a broom. Now, however, Mars was wearing robes; thick blue ones that matched his eyes and made him look rather…
attractive…
Sinn swallowed, then remembered where he was, who this was, and what time it was. So he hurled the pillow at Mars and flopped back down onto his bed, his lips pressed together into a furious line. There was a low sound of protest from the floor before a hand appeared over the edge of the mattress, and Mars used it to haul himself to his feet.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he complained.
“Why have you woken me up?” Sinn demanded, sounding slightly angrier than he had intended. “And come to think of it, what are you doing in my room this early in the morning?” He glared at Mars, who had the decency to look slightly repentant.
“I wanted to help you.”
“Help me do what?” Sinn was still angry, but he felt a small spark of curiosity welling up inside. Ruthlessly, he squashed it.
“Get over your fear of heights, of course,” Mars said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“At five o’clock in the morning?” Sinn snarled, sitting up again and folding his arms.
“Yes, best time to confront your fears.” Mars hesitated, then held out his hand. “Trust me.”
“I never trust you, especially when you say ‘trust me’.” Ignoring Mars’s hurt look, Sinn scowled and got out of bed. Throwing on some clothes, he turned around again, now horribly aware that he was awake no matter what, and so he might as well go along with whatever scheme his friend had come up with. Relenting slightly, he allowed his face to lose some of its anger. “What do you have in mind?”
Mars’s eyes gleamed in the pre-dawn light. “It’s a surprise.”
“A surprise,” Sinn repeated dubiously. “What kind of surprise? And what’s with the -” he gestured to Mars’s robes.
“It was cold this morning,” Mars said, in the tone of voice one would use on a very small child. “So I put on something warm.”
“Don’t patronize me!” Sinn snapped, but edged cautiously around the bed.
“Sorry, sorry.” Mars held up his hands in a placating gesture, then nodded towards the door. “Shall we go?”
“Go where?” Sinn sounded suspicious, but he was already heading for the door. He was stopped, however, by a hand on his arm. Turning, he raised an eyebrow at Mars, who smiled, slowly.
“I have to blindfold you.”
“What?” Sinn swallowed, suddenly a lot less confident. “Mars, what does height have to do with not being able to see? I mean, my fear comes when I see the height, so if you blindfold me, I’m not exactly confronting my fear, am I?” Although his voice was sharp with exasperation, there was a hint of nervousness that made Mars fight back a tiny, triumphant grin.
“It’ll make sense eventually, I promise,” he said. “I know it’s not in your nature, but just this once, Sinn, trust me?”
“Fine.” It was barely more than a grudging whisper, but Mars nearly howled in triumph. Sinn stared up at the Sports teacher, his brown eyes unusually serious. “But if you do anything to upset me, I’ll make sure I kill you myself.”
“Understood,” Mars said cheerfully, then dug in his pocket for the blindfold. “Hold still,” he murmured, carefully wrapping it around Sinn’s head - covering his eyes and knotting it firmly.
Sinn tensed as his vision was blotted out, but as he slowly relaxed, he began to notice that his other senses were improving. He heard the scrape as the door was opened, then nearly jumped as Mars took his hand, guiding him out into the corridor. A faint breeze brushed his cheeks, and he bit his lip, unable to ascertain which direction they were heading in. Their footsteps echoed eerily in the empty corridor, and he began to lose all sense of time as they kept moving.
Abruptly, Mars made him halt, and there was the sound of another door opening. The faint breeze suddenly became stronger, and Sinn drew in a deep breath, shivering in the cold morning air that swirled around him.
“Ok, nearly there.” Mars’s voice was cheerful, and Sinn resisted the urge to reach out blindly and attempt to throttle his friend. No one, in his opinion, should be this happy at just gone five in the morning. Nor should they be taking an unholy amount of delight in getting their friend to face his worst fear. He swallowed, and rubbed his sweating hands against his robes, suddenly wishing he’d simply stayed in bed.
As Mars led him forwards a few more steps, the breeze became stronger, and Sinn viciously fought down the urge to attack the hand that was guiding him, rip off the blindfold and flee as fast as possible in the opposite direction. He scowled and tried to squash the uncharacteristic panic, just as they halted again.
“Right, I’m going to take the blindfold off in a minute,” Mars announced, his hands now on Sinn’s shoulders. “But first you need to step up.”
“Step up? Where the hell are we?” Sinn snapped, his body tensing.
“Just trust me. Step up.”
Feeling rather as though he was going through some kind of ridiculous pantomime, Sinn lifted his leg as high as he could, stretched it a little, then brought it down. He was rather surprised when his foot landed on a small ledge, and he carefully stepped up, hoping against hope that this was all an elaborate joke, and that Mars was actually leading him into the Divinations classroom.
“Ok.” There was the sudden feeling of movement behind him, and Sinn felt the gentle loosening of the blindfold. “When I remove this, I want you to stay as calm as possible.”
“I’m not a child!” Sinn snarled, but it was half in fear. His fists clenched, and he felt his nails digging into his palm, he remained taught as the blindfold slipped from his eyes, and he blinked as he was dazzled by the early morning sun, which peered over the horizon. Hissing, he squinted, trying to see past the tears that had sprung up in reaction to his sudden partial blindness.
A strong gust of wind made him totter slightly, and Mars’s hands clamped around his waist. Without thinking about it, Sinn looked down.
And yelled.
He was up high.
Very, very high.
Sinn’s first thought was something along the lines of: ‘I HATE heights. Why does the ground always look so bloody hard from up here?’ Hot on the heels of that piece of self-enlightenment, however, was the more sinister notion that he was going to kill Mars in the slowest, most painful way possible. And then when he was done, he was going to hang his friend’s mutilated body on a wall outside his office as a warning to all others who followed after and were interested in the ridiculous notions of self-improvement and fear conquering.
“Don’t look down.” Mars’s voice cut through his haze of terror and rage and Sinn discovered, much to his embarrassment, that he was breathing in short, panicked gasps, and clinging quite hard to Mars’s hands, which were still resting on his waist. “Look up, stare at the horizon.”
“Kill…you…” Sinn managed from between gritted teeth, his gaze riveted to the long drop that was inches from his toes. “Not…fucking…funny!”
Mars’s fingers tightened around Sinn’s own, and then slowly began forcing Sinn to move his arms up and away from his body until they were outspread at shoulder height. Apart from this, Sinn remained frozen, completely paralysed and stuck somewhere between terror and another sudden burst of absolute murderous intent. It was only when Mars repeated his initial command, that he raised his head, just slightly, trying to tear his eyes from the sight of the ground spread out far below him.
“It’s not safe up here,” he managed, quelling the urge to stamp on Mars’s foot. That, he reasoned, would be a Very Stupid Idea. Not least of all because Mars was the only thing holding him upright and stopping him from tottering off the edge of this very high tower.
An undignified squeak emerged from between Sinn’s lips as one of Mars’s hand moved, gripping his chin firmly from behind and tilting his head up, so that he had no choice but to stare at the horizon. As he took deep, calming breaths, Sinn had to admit it wasn’t as bad when you weren’t looking down. The only problem was that once Mars removed his hand, he knew he’d inevitably stare at the ground again. The damn thing was so far away.
And hard. Mustn’t forget that.
“I want,” Sinn said, with remarkable calmness and clarity, “to get down. Now. I have had enough of facing my fears for one day, and I will bite your hand if you do not get me off of here within the next ten seconds.”
A sigh ruffled his hair, and Mars nodded. “Alright kitty cat. We’re getting down.” There was a tug, and Sinn staggered ungracefully backwards off the small ledge and onto blessed, solid flagstones. He half hysterically considered getting down on his knees and kissing them, but decided against it in favour of rounding on Mars.
“NEVER again! Do you hear me? WHERE did you come up with this idea? Honestly, you are just so…so…” Sinn snarled, unable to think of a word, and still shaking with terrified adrenaline. He waved a finger under Mars’s nose, his expression slightly psychotic and more than a little murderous. “I mean REALLY…” he began again, curling his fingers into fists, to hide the trembling. “Never been…hardly appropriate…FIVE O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING!” he managed eventually, further enraged by the fact that Mars was simply standing there, staring at him.
“You’re not making much sense,” the Sports teacher pointed out pragmatically, folding his arms. Nonetheless, he looked faintly amused.
“If I’m not making much sense, it’s your fault!” Sinn snapped, and turned away. Unfortunately, this left him staring straight towards the edge of the tower, so he turned around again. “I’m going down for breakfast.” He shoved past Mars, who frowned and grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
“What?” Sinn’s eyes were dark in early morning light.
“I’m sorry, I was just trying to help.”
“I - ” Sinn’s lips pressed together in a thin line, and his gaze flickered to Mars’s hand, which was still on his arm, then back up to his friend’s face. Fighting down the nearly overwhelming irritation that was still flooding through him, he tried to think logically. Rubbing his forehead, and feeling the beginnings of a headache, he finally frowned and nodded abruptly. “I know,” he admitted.
Mars smiled and released his arm. “Alright then. Breakfast.” He nodded towards the tower door, but Sinn hesitated, his expression wavering between its normal disdainful countenance and a strange new one, that flickered briefly across his face before vanishing before Mars’s eyes. Shrugging, the Sports teacher pushed open the door himself, intent on finding breakfast. He was stopped, however, by a quiet voice from behind him.
“Mars? Thank you.”
Mars turned, but Sinn was already stomping towards him, face set as normal. If it weren’t for the slight flicker in his eyes, Mars would have sworn the words had never been uttered. As Sinn pushed past him, he reached out, lightly touching his friend’s arm.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly.