May, 1966
Who: Avis Tremaine and Tomas Booth
What: Sad news :[[
Where: Hogwarts, Owlery




Sure, it was relatively early in the morning for Avis to be up -- but she was always up early when it came to mail days. Her mother liked to send her copies of Scientific magazines that had interesting articles in them, so it was something she looked forward to. That was what had brought her up the stairs to the Owlery so late. She took the last step up and paused -- someone else was already up there. That was ... unusual.

Instead of going inside right away, she opted to hover around the door. If it was an angry Slytherin she didn't want to walk in on them. All the better to just go back downstairs and have breakfast instead.

Last night, Tomas had received a letter informing him that he had been accepted into the auror program. For some reason, the owls had been sent to McGongall, and she had taken her sweet time in informing the newest recruits. So late, that it had been past curfew and he hadn't been able to go to the owlery and send off the letter informing them that he'd made it. The whole summer before school, winter break, Easter holidays, it's all he could go on and on and on about, and he stayed up rather late writing a letter that nearly duplicated all the information the packet he received had contained.

So, really--his excitement was what had woken him up at the crack of dawn this morning, and he'd made it up to the owlery in record time. He really hadn't expected to find his owl already sitting on its perch, a letter wrapped around its leg. Tomas knew that Woodstock didn't like going into the Great Hall because he was so small, but honestly there was no reason to try and make him come up here and---

---he was quick to realize why his owl had opted to give him the letter in the privacy of the owlery.

Tomas was sitting underneath the perch Woodstock had found himself on, his auror letter strewn to the floor as he read his mother's scratchy scribble across tear stained parchment. A robbery? His dad didn't do those kind of---he was always in the offices, there was no--no way. He took in a strong breath through his nose and kept his head down, not hearing the shifting footsteps in the doorway.

Tomas? Wait, something was wrong with this picture. She was here to send her letter out and to see if her magazines were here (carrying them to the Great Hall, Avogadro had quickly learned, was a ridiculous waste of energy). But Tomas was ... upset, that much was obvious. Honestly, Avis wasn't sure how she was supposed to react to something like that. She pushed her glasses up her nose and took a deep breath in.

Okay, she could do ... gently questioning. Obviously he would need to talk to someone, why not her? Besides the fact that he probably hated her guts and would rather talk to one of their Professors. Although she kept it to herself as much as humanly possible, Avis admired Tomas' ability to integrate with groups and be popular and nice to people who ... you know, weren't her.

She cleared her throat as she stepped through the door, flicking her gaze to the window so that Tomas wouldn't be threatened by eye contact.

"...hi." Smooth, Avis.

Tomas startled and knocked into the perch, sending Woodstock fluttering up in a bit of a frenzy (how he hadn't noticed his owl had stayed, he couldn't tell you, but--). He quickly scrambled up to his feet and wiped furiously at his eyes (turned away from Tremaine, dear God) letting out some frustrated sounding breaths.

Really? Really, God? You decided that Tremaine was going to be the first person he saw after this? Looking and acting like--this? Funny! Hilarious, just peachy and---

"What are you doing up so early?" he snapped, but his tone was definitely not as fierce as it could've been, has been, and it nearly sounded like a frog croaking and--Tomas bent to gather his things, ready to rush out of there before she caught his red eyes and made some smart ass comment or---or something.

Despite popular belief, she wasn't a horrible person on the inside -- just on the outside when she had to be or felt she was threatened. Avis furrowed her brows at the way he was behaving -- erratically enough that she didn't snap something smart back when he asked what she was doing up here. She also didn't answer that she was mailing her letter.

"Early morning studying. 's quiet up here, you know? And nobody else ever comes up." Putting him at ease that nobody else was going to walk in if Tomas was worried about that. She shifted so that she was half in front of the door, biting her lip when she looked to Tomas.

"So ... you?" Because God knew she wasn't going to ask him why he was up here alone, crying. "I mean, uh. I could use help with ... I'm supposed to give a speech and I'm rubbish at talking like a normal person." The first part was a lie, but the last part ... wasn't.

He stopped his shuffling and took a second to let her words sink in. A speech? What class did she have to give a bloody speech in? Tomas was pretty sure he and Avis were in mostly all the same classes, and when did Hogwarts actually care about--Tomas shook his head again and stood, letting out a long and rattling breath and running his hand nervously through his hair.

"Look, I just--" Jesus Christ on a cracker he could not cry in front of her, she would make fun of him for the rest of his life, because Lord bloody knew that she was going to be a thorn in his side for the rest of eternity and---Tomas rolled his eyes to the ceiling of the owlery and bit down on his tongue. He couldn't even let out a rude retort because he could just tell that any word was going to make the tears fall and he couldn't he fucking couldn't and--

Tomas put a hand up, hand clenching as he tried to control his emotions, but he found that whatever he'd managed to subdue came boiling back up the second he actually looked at Avis. His head dropped forward and he let out a short gasp as more tears fell, and Tomas wiped furiously at his tears.

It was only natural that he wouldn't want to cry around her, since that would undermine his masculine identity and whatever else. Avis shifted from foot to foot for a moment, hesitating before she shifted forward and slowly to touch his arm. She wasn't confident enough in herself to do more than that, though.

Since the whole 'making up an excuse to let you stay in the owlery' thing hadn't worked with Tomas, maybe this would. She could just ... be quiet (yes, her mouth actually did shut) and supportive. Wasn't that supposed to be a good thing, like non-verbal support or something?

...did you really think that was going to last very long? Avis paused. "I could put up a ward." Which was a ridiculous thing to say, but -- "I mean. So nobody else came up. If you wanted." And she could leave ... or stay. That was mostly his choice.

His breath hitched quickly, and Tomas wasn't sure how he was able to breathe. It hurt so fucking much, it was as if--something had crawled inside of him and was squeezing his lungs so tight and it was just dumb. He was supposed to be an auror come this summer, or a trainee whatever, and he was crying? He was crying? Aurors don't cry. Aurors brush it off and get up and go an have a beer afterward and--

"My dad died," he let out lowly, pulling into himself. Avis was going to think he was such a girl, crying like a baby, but---but--Tomas began to focus on his breaths and thought that maybe, if he could tell her and get it out then maybe the pain would stop, but it wasn't feeling that way at all, "They needed back up and--he was just---there and--I don't know, I don't know what happened I just--he's not--"

Tomas pushed his face into his hands, angry at himself for not being able to control himself. "Just--just--" he didn't know what the hell he wanted her to do.

"You're going to hyperventilate," she blurted out awkwardly, mentally kicking herself the moment that the words came out. Right, she knew that was the wrong thing to say but she had a problem controlling what her father called her 'brutal honesty switch' and ... okay, at least he seemed to be reacting okay to the touching. Avis shifted hesitantly to draw him down to sit again.

She'd keep her mouth shut and they could just ... sit. When she got upset about silly things like the boys at school or work or blowing up her favorite beaker at home, this was what her father did. So that obviously meant it should work on anyone because he was a genius.

"I'm ... sorry. About your dad, I mean." Not about all the other horrible stuff she'd said to him in the past -- that had been justified.

He wanted to fight her pull, he didn't need to sit because he wasn't going to fall apart like this and---oh, hell, if Greer saw him like this then he'd never let him live it down! Tomas' mind was shouting at his wobbly legs, telling him to man up and walk down to McGonagall's office to tell her what happened, but all his body could do was follow Avis to the floor.

Tomas' hands dropped from his face and into his lap, and he stared pitifully across the owlery, sniffling greatly and taking in deep breaths. His thoughts couldn't escape the letter and the true capacity of grief it held, and his head ducked again as a fresh wave of tears came.

"He---my best friend, he was---" Tomas didn't know why he felt the need to say this, or to tell her this, but maybe it was an attempt to give himself more reasons to not feel guilty about crying. His father wasn't only the man who raised him, but his best friend, his idol---people would understand that, right?

For a few significant moments, Avis was sure that he was going to do something cruel like shove her to the floor of the owlery and stomp off in the other direction. He didn't, though -- he sat down next to her and stared across the room. That was ... good, right? Better at least than him going to bottle up his emotions or something.

Not that she didn't do the same thing on a daily basis, but still. That was besides the point. She bit her lip (ow, okay, a little too hard) and nodded to Tomas' words, trying to be reassuring. One of her hands slid up to rest on his back gently. "That's definitely a really good reason. I mean ... yeah."

Seriously? Seriously? Avis hadn't thought her people skills were that bad up until this exact moment. She could see why he was upset, she could feel sympathetic about it ... but she sucked at showing as much.

In all of his sadness, in all of the pain he was feeling right at this moment, Tomas couldn't stop the short chuckle at Avis' awkwardness. At the moment it was endearing, and not terribly annoying like it usually was. She was trying to help him, even after he'd been a total jerk to her for...the past seven years. So maybe he shouldn't find amusement in her attempts at consoling, because---well, fuck, she could have just left him there.

He let out a breath and sighed, looking at Avis with red, sullen eyes. "Do you think you could clear the corridors so---I could make it to McGonagall's office?" Without running into people so they wouldn't see him cry, as stupid as the concern was.

To be fair, they'd been mutually ridiculous to each other for the better part of seven years, and even if Tomas had been the one to start it ... she hadn't exactly offered the olive branch of peace out to him. They were both too stubborn to do something so outright logical. She nodded, though, opting to ignore the fact that he was laughing at her. It was an adequate distraction from what he was probably feeling, anyway.

"Yeah," she nodded, biting back the urge to say something ridiculous like 'but you owe me' or whatever. He had to know that he'd owe her for this even if neither of them ever brought such a thing up verbally -- or she hoped he was intelligent enough to know that (he was and she knew it, otherwise she was sure she wouldn't have been as irrationally attracted to him as she was).

She stood, offering him her hand so he could do the same after several long moments of consideration.

Tomas remained on the ground for a moment before letting out a breath and taking her hand. It wasn't as if he couldn't get up, but she had offered and it would've been rude and---yeah, he was just going to be nice because she had been nice, and---his mind was so rattled that everything going on was just bouncing around and going off in ridiculous tangents.

He could not believe how different this day had ending up being.

This was supposed to be the best day of his life, announcing to the world that he'd made the auror program, and now, here he was, his father was gone, he couldn't man up and control his emotions, and Tremaine was the one helping him. World was bloody upside down.

Finally he was standing, and he wiped at his eyes once more, keeping his hand in front of his face as he muttered, "Thanks."

"Don't worry about it." Because Merlin knew it was going to be less awkward for both of them in the long run if he just forgot about it and went back to mercilessly teasing him. That was what his peer group would expect, after all, and a substantial shift in their relationship while he was at such a fragile point in his life (with being accepted into the Auror program and his father dying and all) would be ill-advised.

Avis squared her jaw a little and glanced out the door of the owlery once before she turned to Tomas briefly, not bothering to hide the fact that okay, she was still concerned.

"Don't do anything stupid," she muttered, mostly to herself, before she pushed out into the hall. Predictably, there was a rather large group of students (mostly Gryffindors) milling around.

Great. Glad that she'd brought a rather large stack of books with her (as usual), she promptly bowled into one of the larger Gryffindors.

"Oof! Sorry, mate. You should really lay off the steroids, I hear they can lower your intelligence -- and I'm sure you can't stand to lose anymore brain cells as it is." Definitely enough to provoke the rest of his social group into harassing her so that Tomas could get past.

Oh, he so owed her for this.