What a beautiful face I have found in this place.

[amar_dulce_vin]

Who: IDK me and my BFF Loto
When: A very fine Saturday afternoon.
Where: The Quidditch pitch.
What: Flying lessons. Things escalate quickly.

Comments

sorry dis took forever bby ; v ;

[185_sardines]

"Nothing better then a fresh breeze and cup full o' sunshine!" That's what Loto's dad always said, but it always seemed to be more fresh breeze and less sunshine at Hogwarts. His best friend (or possibly more..?) Ion seemed to be in one of his cry fits again that afternoon, not that Loto minded really, but he hated seeing a friend so down in the dumps and not be able to do anything about it!

Well what better way to cheer someone up then with some good old fashioned flying! The sense of freedom, wind in your face, it all seemed so invigorating and was sure to help Ion, Loto seriously had no doubt about this in his mind. Plus it would be good Flying practice for Loto, and by Merlin's beard did he need it. With the school's regulatory Shooting Star in tow, his best friend, and the Quidditch Pitch all to themselves, what more could a boy of the tender age of eleven ask for

...same. *wrist slash*

[amar_dulce_vin]

Ion shot Loto a semi-bewildered stare as the first-year clambered onto his broomstick, chattering on the whole while. Ion eyed Loto's grip around the broom shaft with an apprehensive gaze, a feeling of trepidation coiling sourly in his stomach. If he grasped it any tighter, the broom would interpret as the command for taking o--

Ion was left staring back at an empty space of windswept turf.

...oh hell.

He craned his neck backwards to follow Loto's progress, nearly giving himself whiplash from the speed and force of the motion. Good God. Ion dropped his own broom heedlessly as he dashed down the pitch, eyes locked on Loto and the quivering flight pattern his broom seemed to have decided on.

The goal post--

"Loto!" Ion shouted, praying that the first year could hear him over the wind before he rose too high for this to be feasible. "Loto, jump! I catch! P-please!"

derpaderp

[185_sardines]

Maybe Ion's words would have been more audible if they hadn't been canceled out by Loto's shrill screaming. Tightly he hugged onto the broomstick as best he could while the blasted thing continued to rotate clockwise like some sort of out of control clock.

"H-HEEEeeEEeEeEeLPPPpppppPPPpp IONNNNnnnnNNnnnNNNNn--!!" he yelled, not once did he think that his own cries would stop him from hearing more then the word "jump." Booming winds prevented him from opening his eyes for more then a half a second, luckily that was just long enough for Loto to catch a glimpse of the incoming goal post headed his way and voicelessly panic/pray for a painless death.

O-ok, no wait this was simple. Just do what Ion said!Loto tried to release the broom from his splintering bear hug but he found his limbs locked, nerves gluing them down in place. Eyes widening, heart racing, and a goal post getting increasingly closer

Is that French for "Te amo"?

[amar_dulce_vin]

He was fairly certain his heart had stopped when Loto's broom grazed the goalpost and skittered off into a nosedive in the strong wind. Loto seemed frozen to his broom again, the ground was rapidly approaching, and--

Ion cringed a bit as he pulled his wand out. It had become a "last resort" sort of circumstance and this...

He'd run out of options.

"Îmi pare rău, iubito..." he murmured softly as he pointed his wand at Loto and wincing in sympathy before speaking the word that would save Loto from a rather unpleasant end.

"Stupefy!"