Penwick

Lachlan's first few weeks at Penwick had been a strange mix of excitement and mild humiliation. Mostly mild humiliation. He'd gotten lost at least four times, walked into the wrong classroom twice, and somehow managed to introduce himself to the same person on two separate occasions. Thankfully, they had been polite enough to pretend not to notice. He felt like it was a lot worse to be a transfer than to be a first year.

Today had been better. Or at the very least, less embarrassing. The rain had started shortly after lunch and, like always, Lachlan had found himself in a noticeably better mood because of it. There was something comforting about rain. Maybe it was the sound, or the way it drove everyone indoors and made the castle feel smaller somehow. Whatever the reason, he'd spent most of the afternoon wandering without much purpose, occasionally stopping to watch the weather through whatever window happened to be nearby.

It was during one of those aimless walks that he found himself heading down the second-floor corridor.

His footsteps didn't continue down the corridor, like the stranger he was about to meet hoped. Instead, they slowed. Then stopped. For a moment there was only the sound of rain striking the windows and rattling softly against the stone outside.

Lachlan stood a few feet away, one hand still resting on the strap of his satchel. His curls were slightly damp, as though he'd recently been outside and hadn't entirely escaped the weather. He looked from Finnegan, to the window, and then back to Finnegan again.

"Oh." He paused. "This is awkward." The boy offered a sheepish but bright smile. "I was actually coming over here because I saw the rain and thought it'd be a good place to sit dramatically and stare out the window for a while." He gestured vaguely toward the glass. "But it seems you've beaten me to it..."

Lachlan's smile brightened slightly at the invitation and he carefully climbed onto the window ledge, pulling one leg up beneath himself. The stone was cold enough to seep through the fabric of his robes almost immediately, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Ah, another transfer." He pointed vaguely at Finnegan as though he'd just solved some great mystery. "That explains it. You've got the look." What look? He had absolutely no intention of elaborating. Not because he didn't want to, but because he really didn't know either. His gaze drifted out toward the rain-soaked courtyard for a moment before returning to Finnegan. Hogwarts. Even Lachlan knew that one. It was hard not to. The mention of flying made his eyebrows lift slightly.

"You flew in this?" he asked, sounding equal parts impressed and horrified. "See, that's exactly the sort of thing that sounds fun until you're actually doing it and suddenly there's rain in your eyes and you're questioning every decision you've ever made." Despite the words, he was smiling. "I've never been much of a flyer." He shrugged one shoulder. "I mean, I can. Technically. But if you ever see me voluntarily getting on a broom at high speeds, assume I've been cursed."

The rain rattled softly against the glass, choosing not to properly say where he came from. He rubbed the back of his neck absentmindedly. "Honestly? I spent so much time getting lost my first week here that I barely had time to be homesick." A laugh escaped him. "I walked into the wrong classroom twice. Introduced myself to the same person on two separate occasions. At one point I somehow ended up in a corridor I swear only exists to confuse people."

He glanced sideways at Finnegan. "So if you're wondering whether you're adjusting better than someone else, the answer is almost certainly yes." The joke came easily enough, but his expression softened slightly afterwards. "Do you miss it?"