Hug Hunting

Vivianna Varnes was looking for someone. Truthfully, it was something she did quite a lot. Whenever the Slytherin was particularly displeased with someone, she had a habit of hunting them down and letting them know just what they'd done to piss her off. So usually the girl striding down stone corridors in search of someone, was not a good thing. In fact, much more often than not, it was a very very bad thing.

Today, the teenager was not in a good mood. She wasn't quite in one of her legendary bad moods, that caused her older housemates to bribe the youngers into checking up on her to see if she was safe for social interaction. But she was far from pleased. In fact, the girl knew just who she needed to find to lessen the terribleness of her bad day. Bertie. Vivianna needed Bertie. Because what Vivianna wanted more than anything in that moment, was a hug.

It'd all started off with the Slytherin showing a lost first year around the castle. The teenager had done it a handful of times, she really was a sucker for little kids. Then the redhead had blinked, and she was mentally considering Bertie her little brother. Even now, Vivianna wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but she really did love the younger Ravenclaw like a sibling.

How they got along so well, and were so incredibly close was quite the mystery. Vivianna didn't care how much of a mystery it was though, because she missed her little brother and wanted a hug. The Slytherin wasn't generally a touch-feely person. but when it came to those she really truly cared for, she was always initiating contact. Hugs, ruffling hair, tackles, pats on the arm, Vivianna wouldn't have it any other way.

Both of the students had been busy the last few weeks, and had barely interacted at all. It felt almost unnatural to the teenager, and she wanted to fix that. Now. She had just one problem, where on this bloody Earth was Bertie?

It was a typical Sunday afternoon. Bertie had spent the weekend reading up on the exciting adventures of witches and wizards that the fraudulent Gilderoy Lockart had wrote about, pretending it were he who had come face to face with a werewolf in a telephone box and not an 'ugly nobody' who had infact successfully thought their way out of an encounter with an overgrown troll.

The past week he had been flooded with school work, which was due to the extra classes that Bertie had taken up commencing his third year at Hogwarts. Originally he planned to look up topics that he was due to study the next week but when it came round to it he felt he needed to go for a stroll around the castle. He often did this after spending a lot of time in the common room. It was his way of recharging from the buzzing atmosphere.

He was currently walking across the stone floor of the sixth floor landing. Suits of armor and flaming torches in brackets lined the walls. Bertie's eyes passed from the statues to the torches. That'd make an interesting story He thought to himself. the suits of armor escaping Hogwarts, torches in hand, heading to Hogsmede to set fire to the three broomsticks. Although they'd need a reason to do that. His eyes, glassy, unfocused and gazing mindlessly up at the ceiling as his imagination stepped into second gear. I suppose they could have been bared? Or an older student could have bewitched them to steal some butterbeer, but that could seem a bit extreme?

Bertie often got lost in his imagination. It wasn't uncommon for him to debate in his head whether the event seemed logic enough to happen. Most of the time he didn't even realize where his feet were taking him as he was so absorbed in his ever expanding network of neurons.

Turning the corner he suddenly collided into a red-hair, pale skinned fifth year. Usually this would have caused Bertie's mind to drown in panic attempting to think up an excuse or apology for his clumsiness, although for this fifth year he didn't have to. The fifth year he'd bumped into was Vivianna Varnes.

Vivianna was trapped in a mental rant within her own mind. Vivianna wasn't worried about the fact that she wasn't paying attention to where she was going. The girl knew the school well enough to get back to the Dungeons from anywhere in the castle. Besides, looking for Bertie was far more important than worrying about the miniscule chance of her getting lost.

Due to her own inattention, Vivianna soon found herself sprawled across the stone floor, elbows grazed. Rolling into a sitting position, the Slytherin let out an undignified huff. Vivianna hated her own clumsiness, she really did. The teenager automatically reached for her bag, before realizing that she hadn't taken it with her. Cursing herself for leaving her self-made potions-centric first-aid kit back in the dorms, the pulled herself to her feet.

Figuring that at least now she had a destination, Vivianna began to head towards the nearest staircase. She was planning on heading back to snake territory to grab a basic healing paste, and continue her search after that. Satisfied with the sound of her plan, the teenager trudged on with a much more sedate pace than she'd been using previously.

The next twenty or so seconds were rather uneventful, and the girl found herself hoping that she would run into any other students on the way to her dorm. Just as she was about to round the corner, Vivianna found herself running smack into someone else. The teenager opened her mouth to say something, a thousand barbed insults on her tongue, when she recognized just who she had crashed into.

"Bertie!" Vivianna exclaimed. Her voice was boarding on a shriek, surprised as she was. Quick as a blink, she grabbed the male off the ground and spun him around once, before pulling him in for a tight hug.

Bertie barely had time to even acknowledge Vivianna before he was hoisted from the floor and embraced in a tight, bone crushing hug. He wasn't usually one for hugs, mainly because he thought them awkward as he didn't know many people well enough to hug. Vivianna was one of the few people he had actually hugged outside of his family. Then again she was his family. Maybe not biologically but ever since he once had gotten lost in the dungeons in his first week at Hogwarts she had been there for him like a mentor, a big sister, always there to look out for him.

As Vivianna clenched Bertie tight his faced squished against her chest, his arms trapped straight besides him and his knees bent inwards. It was rather uncomfortable.

'Vivianna hi!' Bertie said through his squished lips. It had been weeks since he had spent any proper time with her and this sudden meeting had wiped the story suits of armor and the Three Broomsticks right from his memory.

Bertie attempted to free himself from her grasp, but being constricted by her it appeared to be difficult, after all he couldn't use his arms. All he could move were his legs as though she had placed an upper-body freezing charm on him. Not knowing what to do he simply smiled and embraced the moment, after all Vivianna was bound to let go soon Bertie thought to himself - she wasn't the touchy feely type.

The Slytherin smiled, happily crushing the Ravenclaw to her. After a few moments, and the realization that killing Bertie through suffocation would make her feel terribly guilty, the witch released her non-biological sibling. She was quite pleased to note that he looked rather more disheveled than he had moments before.

"I haven't spoken to you in weeks, it's like you forgot my existence or something," the witch said, only mostly joking, "I didn't accidentally turn invisible without noticing or something, did I?" Vivianna almost wished she had turned invisible, because that would mean one of her potions she'd been experimenting with had finally worked. However, Bertie would've been likely to say something if he was hugged by an invisible person, so it was doubtful.

The witch unthinkingly grabbed the wrist of the other student, and began to drag him into one of the empty rooms that lined the hall. Apparently, they were classrooms many years ago, but now the lessons were held on different floors and these rooms had been abandoned. A few were used for storage and things like that, but most were just empty with a few random pieces of furniture.

"So how did you do on that Potions assignment you were worried about?" the teenager asked, remembering the last time they'd properly spoken, and the essay Vivianna had helped with. Vivianna was always more than willing to help Bertie with potions. Transfiguration on the other hand, not so much.

Bertie took a deep gasp for air as Vivianna released him from her arms. He blinked rapidly and smiled, still taken aback at their sudden rendezvous. Still in shock he barely had time to reply to the many questions Vivianna had catapulted at him before she had grabbed him by the wrists and dragged him into one of the disused classrooms.

The classroom was old and out of touch with the rest of the classrooms. If only the transfiguration classroom was like this. Bertie thought to himself as he took in the dust-lined desks cramped against the walls and the pile of chairs - some that were a leg or two missing. Bertie wasn't a fan of transfiguration. He enjoyed the practical side of things because it gave him the chance to be creative and he generally achieved high marks with him being able to clearly invent an image of the object he wish to create. On the flip side the theory let him down. One thing he couldn't quiet understand was how vanished objects were to go into non-being... If there was a place called non-being what did it look like? Where was the proof? And how could something like non-being hold objects if it didn't exist? It reminded Bertie of the whole expanding universe argument muggles had. Casting his mind away from transfiguration he looked to Vivianna and began answering her verbal questionnaire.

'Well. I got full marks on the potions essay! The professor liked how I included some O.W.L points. Thanks.' Bertie said, a huge smile etched onto his face, blushing a tad pink too. He loved to do well in school, he felt as though he was doing his Mum proud and he was sure she got a thrill out of hearing he was performing well in the many letters to home that he wrote.

'And I can see you perfectly fine, although... that has just given me a great idea for a story! A girl who, by accident, swallows a potion to turn her invisible then everyone thinks she's died and that she's come back as a poltergeist or something because they can still hear her!' The last sentence Bertie said faster and faster, his eyes widening and the many more ideas zooming into his mind. Imagination was to most people an average, everyday occurrence. To Bertie it was a gift, his passion, as it is to those who value their creativity above all else. Bertie stood there, staring at the cobwed-covered ceiling in awe as the thoughts began to multiple. He had completely forgotten that he was mean't to be having a conversation with Vivianna, although by now she was used to his sudden daydreaming.

Vivianna smiled widely as Bertie told her that he'd done well on his assignment. She really did adore Potions, and it was nice to help Bertie out sometimes. Not that he ever really needed it, but it was nice to be of use all the same.

It just so happened that Vivianna was unable to help Bertie when he truly needed it. Her worst subject by far was Transfiguration, the redhead just disliked everything about it. Bertie, at least, only had problems with the theory portion.

The Slytherin sat herself down on top of an old desk as Bertie began to get carried away with his imagination. While him doing so could get the slightest bit annoying at times, the girl generally liked that about him. It was unique, special, and always got her thinking. The teenager knew that Bertie and his mind would go far one day, and the thought made her happy.

Both of them were special that way, having minds that liked to jump into hyper drive at the most random of moments. While Bertie was creative and imaginative, Vivianna was analytical. She had a tendency to analyze, sometimes over-analyze, everything, especially when it came to people, expressions, and emotions.

As she listened to the younger student, Vivianna considered that perhaps that was why they got along so well. Being quite similar in how their minds would take over, but opposites in that Bertie's was in the clouds, and her own firmly planted in her surroundings.

"That's a good one," the fifth year commented off-handedly, legs swinging back and forth inches off the floor.

Bertie thought for a moment in a world of his own, unaware that Vivianne was sat with her legs swinging back and forth. Coming back to the disused classroom he noticed the dust properly for the first time, walking over to the window he cringed, examining the sheet of dust. 'This really does need a clean. If I didn't know better you'd think it were foggy outside with these murky windows.'

He looked over to Vivianna. The sunset filtered through the dust-hazard panes, lighting up her pale face and enhancing her fiery locks. Her face seemed somewhat sorrow to Bertie. Walking towards her he tilted her head slightly. 'Is everything okay, Vivianne?' He asked quietly. He knew sometimes that people could easily irritate her, although not so much since she lost her pseudo-Hufflepuff title. Maybe they knew not to test her as much? Or were rather impressed with her Potioneer abilities so thought it best to not annoy her?

(OOC: Sorry it is short I wasn't sure what else to put?)

The witch was snapped out of her thoughts by Bertie asking if she was okay. "Hmm? Yah. Yah, of course, I'm fine," Vivianna replied automatically, forcing a realistic smile to grace her lips. The girl was always fine, she always had to be fine. Not being fine meant that something was wrong that the girl couldn't fix or control. And in her mind, that wasn't allowed to happen.

The teenager reached forwards to run a hand roughly through Bertie's hair, mussing it up purposely. Vivianna had hoped that finding Bertie would make everything better. But it hadn't, not really. She felt slightly better, but her problems still weren't fixed. This frustrated her, she hated when she couldn't fix things, when outcomes refused to be controlled, no matter what she did.

Leaning her head back and rolling her skull from shoulder to shoulder, the Slytherin was rewarded with a loud crack from her neck. Satisfied, Vivianna readjusted her head to look at Bertie. "Tell me a story," the student said simply, wishing for a distraction and knowing that the Ravenclaw was always capable of providing the best ones.

Narrowing her eyes slightly at the lack of comfort in her position, the fifth year slid off the edge of the desk. Spotting another one and sweeping the dust of the top with the side of her arm, the witch then pushed it towards the other. Satisfied with her new larger surface, Vivianna clambered atop the desks, and arranged herself to lay on her stomach, feet in the air, and head resting on her arm.

((OOC: Don't worry, it happens to everyone. It's always best to just go with the flow. ))

Bertie grinned as she ruffled his hair, pushing her arm away. 'Stop it!' He laughed, although on the quiet he quiet liked it, it was playful, affectionate and just lately he was missing affection. He hadn't seen his Mother since Christmas and with the amount of exams he had on top of the fact that he didn't speak to many people he was missing the love. He usually preferred it that way, it left him alone with his imagination but from time to time he did wish he was a lot better at making friends.

'What about?' Bertie asked, smiling and taking a seat on a wooden chair - mimicking Vivianna and brushing the dust from it. Before she could answer however he had already entered into a verbal frenzy: 'I could tell you about a story I read yesterday. Well it actually happened but then I guess it's still a story? Anyway it's about a wizard called Gilderoy Lockhart who went travelling in a forest of trolls.' He paused and sighed, gazing up again at the cobwebs. He hadn't finished it, halfway through he had gotten slightly bored and moved onto wanderings with werewolves.

'Or I could make one up?' Bertie suggested to Vivianna, his eyebrows slightly raised, his lips raised into a slight smile elevating his dimples. The Ravenclaw began to think back about the story of the suits of armor and flaming torches. He had only thought briefly about the plot and was fond of the idea to discover what the ending was.

To Bertie the endings were either the best or worst part of a story. It depends how predictable they were - or even if they were predictable if it fit well it was good enough for him. On the other hand he'd read books where the conclusion was a complete flop!