Time Alone (open)

Remington leant over the battlements of the Astronomy Tower. The ground was far away - so far away. Remington could hardly make it out through the darkness. He was out at night, yet again, but that was nothing new. It didn't take him long to sneak up past the prefects on patrol and gain access to the Tower. He had done it so many times now, he could have been able to do it in his sleep. And now he was here, all alone, with no company except his thoughts. And that was dangerous for Remington.

It was cold. Remington hugged his cloak around him tighter, arranging it so it was as though he was wrapped up in a material cocoon. He stared down into the darkness, feeling the chill on his face. Was this how Dimitri always felt? This biting, chilling cold? With no rational explanation as to why? Remington fumbled through his cloak, reaching into his pocket. The metal of his watch was so cold that, for a split second, it felt like it was burning him. Remington couldn't survive without that watch, and yet at the same time, everything that it had brought him...

Remington tried to see past the fog and to the ground, to try and judge how far away it was. What would happen, he wondered, if he just... fell? While he had no intention on harming himself, the free fall through the air would be thrilling enough. He sighed and straightened up, transferring his gaze to the stars. The stars. How he longed to go up there. That, he decided, would be the greatest adventure of them all. To dance among the stars, unburdened by time. Timeless, forever, lasting.

But even the stars died out eventually.

Rory wasn't sure what compelled him to return to the astronomy tower. The memories of the night before were still clear in his mind. He hadn't changed from his clothes from the library, still wearing just the pants, shirt, sweater vest, tie combo. There was still potting soil under his finger nails, a few smudges of dirt on his face. His hair lay in that curly, messy way it liked to sit. If he really wanted to, he could work it into a managable state, but that just required to much effort and time.
In addition to the thoughts of Val's drunked escapades the night before, there were the thoughts of the writing on the walls, along with Flich's cat. He had mixed feelings on it. Was it just some sort of prank? Or was it real? He didn't know. For now, he would keep a close eye on his friends and family.
The Irish lad almost didn't notice there was someone else out in the tower. He froze, sure it was a prefect ready to send him straight to detention. He hoped for now the other hadn't noticed he was there. Rory hadn't thought the tower would be this cold. The wind drew a shiver from him. Or was it fear?

Remington was still traipsing through his thoughts. It seemed it was easier for him to make enemies than friends. He thought of the incident with him and Hex. Remington bore Hex absolutely no ill will - well, he didn't, at least, until Selwyn had decided that it was a good idea to Stun Dimitri. That, Remington was not going to take lying down. Remington sighed. He may have been the one who "started" the duel, but Hex was the responsible one, the Head Boy. He should not have continued it - he should have given him detention and left him at it.

And then there was Lestrange. Vincent Lestrange, the ex-Head Boy. Remington chuckled dryly. He really didn't have much luck with authority figures. But no doubt Remington was on Lestrange's hit list, after the disrespect Rem had shown him in recent times. Remington took a deep breath. It was of no concern to him - how many times have he and Dimitri gotten themselves into worse trouble, and come out unscathed? A few boys with grudges did not worry him, but it was a nuisance. Then again, Remington should really have expected it.

Remington didn't turn around at the sound of the door opening. He paused for a moment, waiting for the harsh voice of a prefect to tell him off. After a moment, he could sense no movement, nor hear the sound of footsteps. Obviously, that person was no prefect - a prefect would have told him off straight away. It was a boy, judging from the timbre of the shiver he had just heard. "Come to enjoy the view?" Remington spoke up eventually, wondering if the boy would answer.

The Irish lad remained quiet for a few more moments, waiting. He waited for the other, a boy from what he could tell, to say something, anything. He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath untill he exhaled rather noisely when the other boy spoke. So he wasn't a prefect, that was good. Rory didn't need any more trouble.
Most of the time, it was James that drug Rory into situations where they both ended up in detention. Rory didn't mind though, he didn't blame James. James was he best and closest friend. Though he and James had their spats, like their current one regarding James's girlfriend, Naida, they always got over it.
Rory took a few nervous steps from the door, still wary of the other boy. "Some'en li'e that." He said finally, his accent littered over each word.

Ah, Irish. A smile flickered over Remington's face as he recalled the time he insisted on dragging Dimitri to Ireland to track down leprechauns. They didn't quite get what they were looking for...

Remington turned around and studied the boy. His clothes were crumpled slightly - either he hadn't changed from the day's events, or he had just gotten out of bed dressed in them. A few smudges of dirt on his face suggested the former. "Remington Zabini," Rem told the Irish boy. Rem wasn't his usual chirpy self - the brief talk after the incident in the Great Hall with Dimitri had shaken him a little.

The red head took a few steps forward to the parapet. He didn't know what to make of the boy yet, but Rory was a naturaly suspicious person. Idly he brushed his messy hair from his eyes to get a better look at the other, who was looking him over as well.
He smiled a bit and noded at the introduction. "Rory O'Conner" He introduced himself.

"Pleasure to meet you, Rory O'Conner. So," Remington said, turning back to face outwards, towards the air, "what brings you out here, Rory O'Conner? Is it just to enjoy the view? Or something more. One usually doesn't come out to the Astronomy Tower at 5 in the morning."

Rory pondered the boy's name. Remington? He could honestly say he had never heard that name before. And where did he know Zabini from? It sounded awefully familiar, though he couldn't put his finger on it. "Pleasure t' meet ye as well." He shrugged a bit at Remington's question. "The view, I 's'pose. And i's quiet up 'ere."

"Quiet. Yes." Remington was silent for a moment. Everything was silent. There was nothing moving, no sign of life anywhere. Even the trees were still. It had a sort of eerie vibe to it, and, considering recent events, it suited the castle rather well. "You're a Gryffindor, aren't you? A year younger than me." Remington nodded to himself. "I apologise for my... less than excitable mood. I'm not usually this dull and serious." A shadow of his usual grin flitted across his face.

Rory looked over the view the tower supplied. It was nice, quiet though. Usually, the Irish lad was loud as they came, when paired with James anyway or an equally interesting friend. Sometime he liked quiet though. But this silence was different, unnerving, a silence that matched the mood after the writing. He turned to look at the other boy. Rory noded. "I am. 's hard t' tell if 'm a year younger t'en ye if I don' know what year ye're in." He smiled at his own joke.

"Oh, it wasn't a question. You're in fifth, I'm in sixth," Remington said lightly, his hands resting on the battlements. "I assume you've heard about my lovely run-in with your dear Head Boy yesterday? I'd be surprised if you hadn't - things like that don't usually stay silent for long. Especially in Hogwarts."

Rory just shrugged away the words. He had been trying to break the silence, the awkwardness there was. Sixth year, eh? He supposed that made sense. He shrugged again when the boy spoke. "Some'en abou' it, didn't pay it much mind." Rory didn't particularly care for the head boy, he seemed to cause more trouble than solve.

"You don't sound too fussed," Remington noted, a little pleased. "He is from your house, after all." His hands ran along the battlements lightly, feeling the stone. He stared into the distance, noting a slight pinkish hue on the horizon. A small light went on in Hagrid's hut, and Remington could spot the large man moving around inside, presumably preparing his first pot of tea for the day.

It reminded Remington of something. Suddenly feeling slightly more cheerful, Remington turned to Rory with a grin on his face. "What do you say, Rory, to accompanying me on a small trip down to Hagrid's? Not for a visit - although, we could if you like. But more for just a... little look-see. There's something I'm not quite sure of, and I would like to confirm it."

He shrugged. "Guess I ain't surprised." He said honestly. He didn't know the head boy well, he only knew he went by Hex and his reputation. He kept his gaze on the view of the grounds. Quickly the boy turned to look at elder, peering curiously. "Hagrid?" He questioned. Rory had met the groundskeeper a couple times, he didn't seem like to bad company. Rory supposed they might have some in common. As Lily and Val put it, Rory was 'a nature boy'. He thought about it for a few moments. He shrugged though, realizing he had done worse with James. "Guess it wouldn' hurt, a look-see."

"Brilliant!" Rem clapped his hands against the stone and grinned. "Well, after you, Rory." He gestured to let the younger boy leave first.

As Remington turned away from the parapet, he paused briefly to look back. The light was a little bit stronger, casting shadows on everything it encountered. Including Remington. Remington looked at his shadow. The figure looked horribly familiar. Remington stared at it for a moment, before moving out of the Tower.

The Irish lad smiled at the response. Since James busy with Naida, he supposed going about with a different mess mate for a little wouldn't be too terribly bad. Pushing the hair from his eyes again, he started out towards the door, fully intent on breaking the rules just for the fun of it.