Private Lessons (Alys and Tarragon Only.)

Tarragon had made his way down to the Quidditch Fields earlier than Alys and himself had agreed. He'd been too excited to wait any longer so came down to the pitch early to have a quick fly on his Firebolt before he handed it over to her to practice.

It was sunset across the pitch, the stands casting huge shadows across the snow covered pitch. The weather was just perfect to be teaching Alys to fly, no wind, rain or snow. The lesson would at least be easier without any drawbacks from the weather.

He flew as high as his lungs would allow him in the icy air, he stopped only briefly before performing his best move, the Wronski Feint. He plumetted to the ground, and just as everyone would think he would hit the ground, he pulled up. The twigs of the broom scattering the powdery snow as it grazed over the top of it.

Tarragon smiled to himself, the snow made the move have so much more of a spectacular effect, he noted to do it again...

After a long day of lessons, Alys made her way to the pitch where Tarragon has said their first practice lesson would be. The witch had fully planned to bundle up but was pleasantly surprised to find hat the wind and snow wasn't as bad as usual out in the grounds. Yes, snow still layered the ground that was now bleached a permanent white in her head but no more was falling from the sky. The sun was sinking in the horizon casting shades of orange and pink to dance across the pitch.

Dressed in her school blouse and Muggle jeans (she had learned a thing or two about flying in a skirt from her first lesson with Lehrer Vikki), the witch searched for the other Muhe student near the pitch but couldn't find him. Brow furrowed in sight concern, the witch searched the stands but found nothing there too. Just then, a sudden movement caught her eye and she saw something speeding towards the ground, as though it was going to crash.

She let out a gasp when she realized that something was a someone, Tarragon namely.

But he didn't crash. At the very last moment, he pulled out of the dive, scattering snow in his wake.

"Oi!" she yelled at him playfully. "You do that with me on the broom and you'll be dislocating a shoulder!"

"Oi!" she yelled at him playfully. "You do that with me on the broom and you'll be dislocating a shoulder!"

He zoomed round in a circle and jumped off his broom next to Alys.

"Was my breaking of my ribs not good enough for you?" He smiled cheekily. "And you won't be doing that for quite a while, don't worry!"

He passed the broom over to Alys' hand, with a slightly nervous smile.

"Now, we shall begin where Lehrer Vikki left us. So place the broom on the floor, and tell it up." He said as he sat down in the snow to watch. "You should be fine with the Firebolt, much easier than the ones we use in class!"

"Alright," the witch replied, her nervousness returning. The school broom hadn't listened to her the first time so there was no saying this one would. Maybe brooms could sense rubbish flyers and didn't want to come to them? "Up," the blonde said hesitantly and to her delight, the shiny broom handle flew smoothly in her grasp. "Hey, it worked!" she exclaimed with a smile.

Even to someone as inexperienced as her, it was obvious the Firebolt was an entirely different thing from the school brooms. It was smooth and comfortable, and patient as if waiting her next command.

Tarragon was delighted that the Firebolt worked as kindly for Alys as it did for him, he beamed at her success.

"Well then, now mount your broom and kick of the gound. Although with the Firebolt you do NOT have to be as aggressive, just a gentle kick off will do it. Hover and come back down. And, if you do that first time as well, we will soon have you flying!"

He smiled cheerfully and waited for her to follow his instructions, he didn't want to sound pushy, but wanted her to get as far as she could as quickly as she could.

Remembering how she had stomped with the school broom when told to kick off by their lehrer, the witch blushed. She mounted the broom and then, with her left leg, hit the ground gently and once again, was amazed at the broom's smooth operation. It seemed to know exactly what she wanted and in no time at all, she was hovering three feet off the ground, for once feeling taller than Tarragon.

"So this is what the view looks like from up here," she said jokingly. Alys was tall for her age but Tarragon was even teller. She wondered if it was all that Quidditch training he hinted of having. How much experience could an eleven year old have?

He smiled at Alys' quick progression. He got to his feet and looked her in the eye.

"Yes, it's quite scary all the way up here, isn't it?" He chuckled. "We shall continue. You now have the basics. You know how to show the broom that you are in control, and you are perfectly capable of hovering. It gets harder. You now have to do some low level flying. Now, my suggestion would be to stay about my shoulder height and fly round the edge of the Quidditch Pitch. I'll jog round with you, make sure you don't fall off or anything. Just tilt the broom down a little and it will move forwards. You have to lean as well of course. But not too much of either otherwise you'll go too fast!"

He hoped Alys would be able to remember all of this, because after all, she was now flying one of the fastest brooms in the world! And, it was his most prized possession!

Remain at shoulder height, edge of pitch, don't fall off, tilt, lean... the witch was trying to make sense of it all in her head as she tilted the handle forwards slightly. The broom shot a few paces ahead, frightening her and making her clutch the handle, bringing it to an abrupt halt.

Okay, relax, the blonde chided herself as Tarragon caught up to her. "I think I overshot a little," she admitted, embarrassed. "How much do I have to tilt to make it go in a slower pace?"

Tarragon chased after his broom and Alys. She'd over shot it slightly. When he caught up, he put his right hand on the broom handle, and the other on Alys' back. Pushing her back down only slightly with a little nudge of the broom handle they were now moving at walking pace.

"Only a little, I told you it was sensitive!" He said as he then let go of Alys and the broom, still walking to keep up with them both. "Now, keep it like that until you feel comfortable, then we will go a little faster!" He smiled reassuringly.

Alys tried to keep the pace the boy was showing her. Soon enough, the broom settled to her touch and she didn't need an extra hand on her back. Smiling lightly, the blonde flew slowly beside him until she was sure she had the handle of it.

Then, this time intentionally, she tilted the broom forwards and in a foe seconds, was ten feet ahead of him, smirking all over her face. "What do you think, will I make a Quidditch player yet?"

He laughed at her enthusiasm and jogged back over to her.

"Now Alys, lets not be getting too far ahead of ourselves, you've flown in a straight line at above 4 foot above the ground. Patience." He said, though not in a patronising tone. "We'll stay at this height, and you can try your turns. You have two different types of turn, you can do a wide turn which requires a slight lean in the direction you wish to turn, and as stated will take you quite wide. Or you can do a sharp turn, which again, as the name suggests is a quick turn, this is done by leaning to the direction you wish to turn but with much more speed and aggression."

He paused momentarily allowing the information to sink in.

"And Alys, this might be where you fall off, so to start with, allow for me to keep up with you!"

Alys nodded. Sharp turns sounded a little dangerous to her even with an experienced flyer present so the witch decided to stick with wide ones, very slow wide ones. Following his instructions as best she could, the girl urged the broom very lightly so at first, it seemed she was going straight. but a few feet later, the course of the broom had indeed been veered and soon, she had made a curve.

"Was that okay?" she asked hesitantly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear which had come loose mid flight.

"That was excellent," Tarragon complemented her, "Now, do it with more speed so it is slightly more realistic for when we have our races in class, but remember, only a slight lean with the extra speed, or you will be on the floor."

He chuckled to himself, but he was also aware of her uncertainty with the sharper turns.

"If you like, I can ride with you to show you the sharp turns so you know how it feels and then I can make sure that you won't fall, even if it is only a couple of feet!"

Alys pondered the question briefly. Was she afraid of falling while taking sharper turns? Yes. Did she need help? Probably. Were sharp turns necessary at this early level of flying? She wasn't sure... Lehrer Vikki would probably just make them fly in a straight line so the blonde wouldn't need to know them for the next lesson at least. And she could always get more practice when she needed. The witch had a feeling Tarragon wouldn't turn her down.

But before she could answer, a small snowy furball landed on her shoulder and for a moment, the witch thought it had started snowing again. But a second later, it let out a small tweet and she spotted the small package tied to its single foot. Ah yes, one of the school's birds. Papa had said they didn't just use owls at the fortress but also messenger birds more native to the area that could navigate more easily in the harsh winds and snowstorms.

The blonde grinned brightly, hopping off the broom and untying the package from the tiny messenger. Giving it an affectionate pat on the head, she said "I think we're done for today. And I have a package from Mama." Alys really couldn't help her cheerful mood, packages from home always made her happy.

Tarragon smiled at the owl who'd just landed on Alys' shoulder. He took the broom from her hand, and waited for her to say something. He'd gathered from the arrival of the owl that she no longer wished to practice.

He eyed the package in her hand, wondering who it was from and what it may contain.

Noticing the boy eye the package tentatively, the girl repeated brightly "Its from Mama, but I don't think its food," she said, scrutinizing the small thing. Without thinking further, she ripped the simple brown paper off only to find a note and a smaller box within. Puzzled the witch read the note, smiling at her Papa's neat, precise quilling.

Alys, eine blaue rose zu kep Ihr unternehmen. Liebe, Papa.

Curiously, the girl opened the box and pulled out a tiny pendant on a silver chain. Her father's message became clear when she saw the pendant, a miniature blue rose surrounded by tiny moonstone pearls. Alys smiled, her eyes shining at the present from her father. He may not be here but he always knew how to make her feel better.

Tarragon peered over the top of the box to see what was inside. He saw the necklace and smiled, it looked beautiful.

"Would you like me to help you put it on?" Tarragon asked. "It's very beautiful, and is that a blue rose? Your favourite, I'm guessing."

He offered his hands out for the box, waiting for her answer.

The witch blushed as Tarragon guessed her favorite flower. Was she really that transparent? Giving him a grin, she carefully put the chain and pendant back into the box and pocketed it. "I'm not going to wear it now, I'll save it for a proper occasion. If I know Papa, its from a Muggle store and the silver won't have a sheen charm. I'm not going to ruin it with daily wear."

Then another mischievous idea came to her as they started on their way back tot he fortress, the Firebolt tucked safely in the boy's arm. "But you can help me with something else," she said, looking sideways at him.

Tarragon looked sideways at the girl, what more could she need help with.

"What would you like help with?" He asked, a confused expression covering his face.

He waited for her reply before he moved on, he didn't want to agree to something that he didn't want to do, or worse, something that would get him into trouble. He'd been lucky enough not to get in trouble the last time Alys and himself had been together.

"Well, I was thinking," she started but her stomach beat her to it. It emitted a soft growl, making her clutch her arms protectively over it. Blushing slightly, the witch said "I'm hungry."

Then, realizing how absurd the situation was, she threw her head back and laughed, leaving her hair streaming behind her in a golden mess. "Herr Zeverai, would you be so kind as to accompany me to the kitchen and steal some food?" she asked, her eyes dancing happily as she continued to laugh.

Tarragon blinked in surprise.

"You want me to help you steal from the kitchens? Are you just trying to get me into trouble, Fraulein Diederich?" He smiled cheekily. "Of course I will help you, but if we get caught, it was your idea!"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her along a little quicker, she did walk too slow for his liking.