Penwick

Tristan wobbled at first, then steadied, climbing higher. He smiled and slid in tow next to him, happy not to have to leave his classmate behind. Besides, flying side by side felt better than darting around on his own. A first flight felt like the sort of thing you were supposed to share.

Devi let the quiet settle in. The swish of the brooms, the sound of cutting through the air, the flapping of wind on fabric, it all combined into one sound as the world whizzed by, which made it sound like nothing at all. The silence didn't feel like something that you needed to break, it was almost an urge to be in the present moment.

Until they were informed that maybe they shouldn’t be in this particular present moment.

CLANG

The bell tower rang out below, deep and resonant, each clang carrying through the sky. Devi’s stomach dipped a little with every toll, as he mentally counted them out, one by one. He stayed hovering mid-air, as though, somehow, by not moving, he could freeze time itself. Or better, rewind it by just a few minutes. By the tenth strike, the grin on his face had thinned, then vanished altogether.

"...Curfew,” he muttered, voice low, hardly audible over the echo of the final toll of the bell. His eyes slid toward Tristan, wide with the realization. He couldn't be caught, no way. Not after what happened on the first day.

The broom sagged slightly under him as his body stiffened, tension running down his arms into the wood. It wasn’t the thrill of flight anymore that made his heart pound, but the sharp, biting fear that someone had seen them. That any second now, lights would flare in the windows below, voices would shout their names, and the whole adventure would be over just as it had really begun.

Devon had been coasting behind Tristan, letting him enjoy the lead. At first he thought Tristan was just showing off, that he had gained some sort of newfound confidence, but then his angle sharpened, the broom dipped, and Devon's breath hitched in his throat.

“Tristan?”

No answer, the wind was probably louder than Devi's call.

Devon leaned forward on his broom, instinctively accelerating, though he knew he wouldn't reach him in time. The ground rushed up to meet Tristan in a blur of grass and moonlight, and Devon could only watch the moment of impact.

“Tristan!”

He also landed fast, boots hitting the grass with a harder thud than he liked, broom unsteady for a fraction of a second before he tossed it aside and closed the distance at a near run.

He dropped to a crouch immediately, hands hovering, but not touching yet, scanning quickly. Was he breathing, moving, responsive? Any obvious injury? He didn't want to grab him if something was twisted wrong. What would he even do if he was injured? Devon didn't know first aid, and he didn't know any spells yet to help him.

“Hey, Tristan, look at me for a sec,” he said, voice low but urgent. Not panicked, but clearly shaken. “You hit the ground pretty hard. Are you with me? ... Do we need to go to the hospital wing?”

Devon's eyes flicked upward toward the castle windows, checking for witnesses. Everything seemed loud: the wind, his heartbeat, Tristan's breathing, the cooing of owls from the Aviary below. And louder than each of those things, in Devon's mind, was an alarm bell screaming 'you're out after curfew'.

"You scared the absolute hell out of me," Devon whispered, barely loud enough to be heard. "Could've warned me you were about to fall out of the sky like a sack of bricks," he smiled, trying to lift the mood.

Devon didn't budge, standing his ground and remaining steady while he waited for Tristan's reply before he made another move.

Relief washed through Devon the instant Tristan gave that shaky thumbs-up.

"Elegant," he repeated, as dry as the autumn air. "Right. Remind me to sign you up for the dance club."

The smile tugging at his mouth wasn't mocking; it was unmistakably relieved. Now that Tristan was upright and breathing. Devon's pulse finally started climbing back down from the roof.

Then Tristan picked up his broom.

Or… half of it.

Devon blinked. “…That is very broken,” he remarked dryly. This would definitely be bad if they were caught. “Okay. Panic later. First, we have to not get caught with that.” He lowered his voice even more as he held out a hand. “Give it here.”

After Tristan passed it over, Devon tucked the shattered piece under his cloak, bristles down, shaft hidden along his side. It made an odd silhouette, but far less suspicious than waving it around in the open.

“If anyone finds it after tonight, we'll say it broke in practice. Or it was already damaged. Or you tripped over it. Doesn't matter. We'll make something up if someone asks.”

He glanced toward the castle. Quiet. Still. No footsteps. No lanterns appearing out of thin air. Good.

It was a little weird that Tristan was suggesting they both head to Devon's dorm room, but he hadn't quite clocked that yet. Dranaga was closer. Yes. Good. Less chance of being caught. "Good, yeah, let's do that." Did head of houses stay in the house dorms? Devon sure hoped not. “Just… stay close, yeah? You’re not crashing into anything else on my watch. And there are, like, a lot of suits of armor on the way to Dranaga.”

He led the way to the Dranaga common room, his pace one Tristan could follow without strain. His footsteps fell silent, his ears sharp. Each uneven breath, each guarded touch to his ribs, tightened the knot of worry in Devon’s stomach, but he kept his pace calm, unhurried. Nothing drew attention like panic.

The Dranaga entrance rose ahead, just as he'd left it earlier that evening. Devon stepped up to the sword-shaped knocker without hesitation, just like the prefect had shown him after the sorting ceremony. A heartbeat later, the door opened, allowing them in.

Warmth spilled out onto the two boys; firelight, lamplight, the soft glow of the stained-glass dome above. Devon checked to see if the room was empty (it was), then stepped to the side to give Tristan the all-clear. It wasn't until Tristan moved past him that Devon's shoulders finally loosened.

Devi tossed the broken broom into the fire, where the evidence would most certainly be destroyed by morning. Absolutely. There was not a chance in hell that the broom was enchanted not to be burned with fire, and even if it was, Devon was too tired to stick around and check. And surely no one would notice in Aether Studies tomorrow when one broom was missing. Did Devi even put his broom back, or had he just left it lying on the ground?

He just hoped letting in someone from another house wasn't also against the rules.