Been Waiting To See You Again ((August))

[Dylan Caoimhe]

Everything was quiet and all was still; even Dylan who lay stretched out in the snow, in his favorite spot, by his favorite fountain in the Courtyard. There were only two sources of movement. The snow abundantly falling from the deep, clear indigo sky, and landing on what was exposed of his face, which felt like light, cool, soft kisses. He found himself imagining they were from whom he desperately wanted them from once more, but he wasn't that sentimental, if at all. And then there was Dylan's heart, which beated at a steady, calm rate.

For most of the day, Dylan felt like he was just, here. It was weird because for the past couple days he had been happy. But, he couldn't have expected winning the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw the other day to keep him in a good mood for long. So now he was back to the place that he was just last week. And the week before that, and the week before that. He even flew around the Quidditch Pitch today on his Firebolt, but that didn't even help. So, what was it that Dylan wanted? It shouldn't be this hard, considering there wasn't much Dylan wanted or required. He was a simple guy, but, whatever this was, it wasn't simple.

Dylan closed his eyes, and sighed. He allowed his mind to wander wherever it may. A few months ago, this would have seemed terrifying, but he was, better now, for lack of a better word. Stronger? Maturer? Whatever it was, he knew he had grown. He wasn't afraid of himself anymore. He wasn't afraid to talk to other people. He was still ridiculously guarded, but that was something that he felt would always be apart of him. After all, he had no one else.

Dylan felt a slight tiredness come over him. Considering how long he had been out here, and not to mention he was laying on his back outstretched in the snow, Dylan wasn't cold. In fact, the snow was the only source of any type of chill. The evening was still. No wind or breezes blew. In fact, the air felt warm. Just then, he heard the bell from the Clock Tower ring, which meant it was now eight o'clock, and he only had an hour left to be out here. Dylan gave in to the tiredness, and let himself fall into a light sleep.

[August Reid R7]

The mood in the common room was sullen to say the least. The loss to Slytherin was a hard loss for Ravenclaw. But for August, he was glad on two counts. One, this meant that the Quidditch team did not have to play against Gryffindor. August still thought that Hufflepuff should have won that game. They had been playing much better than Gryffindor. And yet, all the glory once again went to Gryffindor. August was so sick of that house being glorified in every aspect of the word. At least this year Gryffindor would not win the House Cup. Although the new Headmistress used to be the Head of Gryffindor so she might randomly give that house some points during the End of the Year Celebration as was the common practice of their previous Headmaster. Secondly, August was deeply hurt that Jasmine had moved him from the Keeper position to a Beater. He had been informed of the decision the day before the game and so had no time to adjust to the change before he was thrown to the werewolves. August had tried to convince Jasmine that he would not be a good Beater but she had told him that he needed to do it for the sake of the team. He knew that it was a childish reason to be mad but because of that he was not saddened to see Slytherin catch the Snitch. The rest of the House was a different matter. Although the common room was usually a quiet place as the students were studying, the loss of the game seemed to dampen the noise even further. Finally August couldn't stand it any longer. He had to get out of there before the silence suffocated him. He hadn't seen Belle all day so he could not ask her to make a journey with him. With a deep sigh, he made his way away from the common room and down the stairs toward the ground floor.

August didn't have any particular place in mind. He just wanted to wonder. He would go to the library or the student lounge, but he wasn't feeling especially social. Maybe he would head toward the kitchens and try to get a snack from the helpful house elves. August had always respected house elves but he recently found a new love for them as their house elf was diligently aiding his mother. But that was so far away it seemed. That was the problem with this castle, everything seemed so far apart from everything else. What was the point of all that room? Maybe one day time travel would be discovered and August would be able to travel back in time and ask the designer of the castle why they had built it to be so large. August passed a window and saw that it was snowing. He loved to be outside when it was snowing and this looked like the perfect snow to be outside in. There appeared to be no wind or breeze of any kind and that was the perfect time to enjoy the snow's stillness. The Courtyard. That was where August would go. The Courtyard. That would be a great place to enjoy the fading light and the falling snow.

August made his way to the courtyard and saw that a light snow had already blanketed the ground. He pulled his cloak around him as he strolled toward the fountain. At first he questioned why he had brought it with him but now he guessed he always knew that he would end outside. He needed the fresh air. Every now and again it was nice to reacquaint yourself with Mother Nature. As he made his way to the fountain, his foot found something and caught. August found himself suddenly plummeting to the ground. He stretched his arms in front of him so that his head didn't get the full effect of the fall but he still found himself on the ground. August found it slightly odd that he would trip on something. As far as he recalled the ground of the Courtyard was smooth. He flipped around and began searching ground for whatever he had tripped on. Kneeling, his hands found something soft. Soft was a bad adjective. Not hard. He had expected to find a rock so finding a non-rock was surprising. The more he felt the object, the less rock-like it felt and August soon found it was a person. "Oh I'm so sorry!" August exclaimed. "I didn't mean to be, um, fondling you. I just didn't know what had tripped me. What are you doing lying in the snow?"

[Dylan Caoimhe]

Air was blowing all around him. He was flying high in to the sky, shooting straight upward into warm sunlight. But when he looked down, he wasn't on his broom. But he wasn't scared. He was, anxious, filled with anticipation. Like, this was what he had been waiting for for a long time now. But then a pain shot in his right thigh and the sky melted, and Dylan startled up, his hands darting to his leg. Damn it, he cursed in his head. Then, hands found him. Warm hands. One found his arm, and the other found his side, groping at him. But before Dylan could react, the hands quickly moved away, and a familiar voice, a boy's voice, sounded with apologies. Dylan hoped up to his feet, pulled out his wand, and aimed it directly at the guy's head. "Lumos," he said roughly, and not a second had passed before he realized who was on the ground at his feet. Blue eyes.

His breathing quickened a bit. Suddenly, he couldn't feel the pain in his right leg anymore. He was a little numb, but found unlike the last time, he wasn't scared. An odd excitement lingered in his chest. It was an odd type of, sensation that he had never felt before. He had been waiting. Waiting ever since winter break to see him again, and here he was. He didn't know exactly what he wanted with him, but that didn't matter. It didn't even seem important. All that mattered was seeing him again. Dylan stared at him for a few moments more before sitting back down in the snow, wand still pointed at him, and settling himself. He felt slightly violated, but emotion of some sort unknown to Dylan over powered his feelings, and it was excused.

"Whats your name?" Dylan was surprised at how calm his voice sounded. It felt like it wasn't even his voice, but he didn't care. He just needed to talk to him. Be around him. Look at him. For some reason he felt like this boy held answers. Or, maybe he had something. Something Dylan was looking for, or needed. But how could he hold answers? This boy didn't know Dylan. But, he felt like he did, like they had grew up together or something. Dylan blinked twice to try and focus and stop his mind from swimming, and looked into the boy's face, studying it.

[August Reid R7]

August was surprised when the figure jumped up and pointed his newly lit wand at August. It wasn't quite the reaction that August had hoped for. After all, he had just apoligised for groping this stranger and yet the stranger reacted as though August was a threat. When his eyes had adjusted to the new light, August found that he was staring up at him. The boy who he had encountered right before the winter holiday. The boy who wasn't exactly welcoming. The boy that August had thought of all break long. The sight of August seemed to have a similar effect on the boy as a change seemed to come over him. August thought it peculiar that this older boy was out here all alone, laying in the snow. But now he thought that he was fated to come out here to the courtyard and find him.

August had just asked a question so he didn't think it was proper to go on speaking. He would let the other boy answer his question before talking again. The other boy hesitated for a few moments before sitting back down in the snow. The other boy's wand was still pointed at August as if August might do something that would harm this boy. August couldn't say that he liked being treated like a threat but as he had a wand pointed at him, he didn't think that this was the best time to bring it up. Instead he just stared at the other boy waiting until he made his move. Hopefully, this person would soon start talking and everything that was on August's mind would be answered. The most important question would be, why was this person that August did not even know, haunt his mind?

It came as another shock when the boy did not answer his initial question but instead asked him his name. That wasn't right. According to the rules of conversation, you were supposed to answer a question when asked. Not answer it with another question. "August. That's my name. Judging from your scarf, you're in Slytherin, right? You might know my older brother Jack. I really didn't mean to trip on you and I especially didn't mean any disrespect by feeling you. I just couldn't imagine a person lying in the snow. What's your name?" The other boy had asked him, August thought it would only be polite to return the favor.

[Dylan Caoimhe]

August. That was his name. Dylan took a deep breath, and exhaled. "Nox," he said calmly, extinguishing his lit wand. He listened as he mentioned his scarf, but Dylan didn't reply. He listened as he mentioned he had an older brother that was also in Slytherin, but Dylan didn't respond to that either. All he wanted to do was take in his face, which was probably why he chose to put out his wand light. Dylan knew how intense his gaze was, especially when he focused on something. August once again apologized for what had just happened but Dylan still didn't show any sign of hearing him. He had to ask him something. He had a burning question, but whatever that question was, he didn't know. He tried to think but he couldn't. Not now. Not in this moment.

Focusing again, he realized he was asked his name. He worked his jaw. "Dylan. My name is Dylan." He drew his knees up and settled his arms around them. He lightly tapped the tip of his wand on his left shin. He still couldn't take his gaze away from August. It was weird. Given he didn't know him, he had so much he wanted to say to him, but how was that even possible? He was a complete stranger. Their first encounter could hardly be counted as an acquaintance with one another; Dylan was scared senseless. At that moment, Dylan had a flashback to winter break. He was at breakfast, and he said to himself, ''Let him find you.'' And, here they were. August found him. Well, you got what you wanted. No time like the present, Dylan found himself thinking. Here they were. Alone. No one else was around. Clearly neither of them had anywhere to go. Dylan took another deep breath.

''Where are you from, August?'' He didn't know why he asked that particular question first; all he knew was that he wanted to know more, not that he knew anything to begin with. This was the guy who plagued his mind for some time now. Even when Dylan was fully focused on something, August would still somehow manage to drift to the forefront of his mind. If this was the kind of effect that he had on him, then Dylan wanted to know everything. It was more than just his eyes. It had to be something more than that, and Dylan was determined to find out just what that something was. Tonight.

[August Reid R7]

"Nox." The older boy said. And with that the light from his wand was gone. August found himself blinking in the sudden darkness. Not that one could really blink away the darkness, but it seemed to help. What peculiar behavior. First he was lying in snow and then he had his wand on and now he had it off. August wished that this boy would make up his mind. But on the other hand it was fun. It reminded him of the times that he spent with Belle. The two of them were always so random. He had not really spent any time with Belle since the two of them got back from break. Something he would have to rectify. Also it was nice to be around someone who was random and not always collected. His brother Bronsen was one of those people. For an eleven year old, he was rather dull. Don't misunderstand, August loved Bronsen like one should love a brother. But August often found himself wanting to be somewhere else when he was around Bronsen.

His speech interrupted his thoughts. Dylan. That was his name. Ever since that day that they had run into each other in the corridor, August found himself thinking of this mysterious stranger. What was it about him? Did he find him attractive? That was a scary thought. August had just had a conversation with Theo the other day about it but it was too soon. Thinking about it was one thing, but actually experiencing an attraction, that was something different. No, that couldn't be it. August was just bothered because this boy was rude to him. But so were all the Slytherins. There was something different about this one.

"Scotland. That's where my folks live." What an odd question to ask someone when they first meet. But then again, how do you get to know someone without asking the odd questions? August's eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness surrounding them and saw the figure before him. The snow was falling in light flakes in a constant motion. It was rather beautiful and August began to forget that he had just tripped over this person and started to enjoy being in the company of someone else. Not wanting the conversation to die, August tried to think of something to say. "It's unfortunate that the Ravenclaw/Slytherin Quidditch match ended so swiftly."

[Dylan Caoimhe]

Scotland, he thought. Dylan slowly sighed, his frozen breath floating up over his face. Well, that was that. There was no way August was related to Alanah, so unlike what Dylan had thought time and time again, that wasn't the reason why he was so drawn to him. Of course, Alanah hadn't had any children, her parents were dead, and she only had one sister, who was also childless. But then, what was it? That was the only explanation Dylan had, or, the only one that he cared to conclude. Why else would August be stuck in his head for all this time if there wasn't some sort of connection that bonded them somehow? Dylan dug his index finger under his hat and scratched his scalp.

This was so confusing. August started speaking, something about Quidditch, but Dylan wasn't really listening. His mind was swimming, jumping to one place after another. What was this? It was almost frustrating how he felt like he knew everything that he wanted to say, but he couldn't articulate it correctly. Dylan closed his eyes and frowned. He would just be honest like he always was. ''August,'' Dylan held up his hand to stop him from going any further. ''There is something that, I need to tell you but, I'm not sure what that something is.''

That sounded completely crazy, but Dylan didn't care, and he continued, eyes still closed. ''For the past few weeks, I have been, thinking about you, ever since we bumped into each other in that corridor before break.'' Suddenly, Dylan felt a sort of confidence. Like, he was getting to where he wanted to go. ''And, I don't know why, but I feel this, connection to you somehow.''

Dylan wanted to continue, but he didn't know how. He raised his wand and tapped it against his temple, half hoping he could summon his next words to the front of his mind, but none came; not that he really expected any to. Feeling stuck, he opened his eyes and focused on August, hoping he would say something. Anything that would help him.

[August Reid R7]

"It's unfortunate that the Ravenclaw/Slytherin Quidditch match ended so swiftly." August could see that Dylan was not going to say anything or that he was searching for the right thing to say so August opened his mouth to continue his small talk. He drew breath in but Dylan raised his hand to stop him. August let the air out of his lungs with a rushed sigh. Hopefully this meant that Dylan was tired of small talk. That made August happy. He always had trouble with small talk. That is probably why he didn't have a lot of friends. It was necessary to complete small talk before one got to move on to 'large' talk. August supposed that was what not-small-talk would be called. He found that the people that he had a true connection with where those that did not need to start a conversation with small talk. Belle was one of those people. Bronsen was too. Jack used to be until recently. Really until he found about their unfaithful father. That's when things with Jack seemed to take a turn for the worse.

The snow continued to fall in large clumps and had no intention of stopping. That was fine with August. It made this moment great. Dylan finally spoke. August held his breath after Dylan's first statement. In this snow he felt like his breath was the loudest source of noise and unless he held it he would not hear what Dylan would say next. Although that was sort of silly. They had only bumped into each other, what could Dylan possibly have wanting to tell August? And why was August so anxious to hear what it was? "For the past few weeks, I have been, thinking about you, ever since we bumped into each other in that corridor before break. And, I don't know why, but I feel this, connection to you somehow.'' August's eye went wide and his lungs could stand it no longer. They forced his diaphragm to contract and expand forcing his held breath out and new air in.

"You've... you've been thinking of me?" August gingerly asked Dylan. It was bizarre. It was such a strange coincidence. Every time that August found himself alone over winter holiday, he found himself thinking about the stranger that he had bumped into in the corridor that day. But he had never understood why. Now he just found out that the same boy that had been haunting his thoughts had been thinking of him? Maybe there was something more than pure curiosity. What if there really was a connection? August tore his eyes away from Dylan's intense gaze and found the ground. He felt a small smile emerge on his lips. "But why me?" he said under his breath. August found himself swallowing and then clearing his throat before raising his head to meet Dylan's eyes again. "I've been thinking of you too. I thought it was just because..." August thought it was because he found Dylan physically attractive, for a boy. But how could August tell that to Dylan, a practical stranger?

[Dylan Caoimhe]

Dylan nodded once, swallowing hard as August expressed surprise at what he had just said to him. Now, a feeling of slight embarrassment had set itself inside Dylan's stomach, and was very apparent in his cheeks. Whenever Dylan did talk about his feelings, he was usually uninhibited and to the point, making sure whomever he was talking to understood exactly just how he felt, or got whatever it was he was trying to get to them clearly. But now, he found that he was wary, and even somewhat regretted not having a bit more caution with how he chose to relay his feelings, although, Dylan rarely watched what came out of his mouth. But, something in him made him feel that he didn't need caution; or, at least not with August. However, there was still an odd sensation in his chest which sparked another question in Dylan's mind; why exactly did he care so much about how he was handling himself right now?

Before he could wrestle with his mind, August spoke again, and Dylan couldn't believe the words that had reached his ears. August had been thinking of him too? He started to breathe a bit more heavily as he shifted, his full attention focused as he looked at August as intently as he had ever, studying . It felt like something had exploded inside his chest, and whether it was good or bad, Dylan didn't know and didn't care to classify it at the moment. He was hanging onto every word that August was saying, but then, he stopped. Dylan wanted to egg him on, tell him to keep going, but found that his mouth was dry, probably due to it being slightly gaped as he inhaled cold dry air.

He closed his mouth, and maneuvered his tongue in an attempt to restore moisture. He stared at August almost hungrily, wanting him to continue his sentence, but it didn't seem that he would, like he was scared to keep going. ''Because.....what?'' Dylan's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. He tried to sound gentle, or whatever gentle was for him, which felt weird, but he had already concluded that in this particular moment, all feelings were to be ignored now, and dealt with later, after he had gotten what he wanted, which was still unknown to Dylan.

[August Reid R7]

"Because... I... I... well that is, I..." August stumbled for the right words. August had always been a little uncomfortable sharing his feelings. He liked to think that his life was an open book and that he could answer any question about himself but his feelings were a different matter. His left hand raised to the back of his neck and began to rub, a habit of his when he was nervous and/or uncomfortable. Both feelings could be used to describe this moment. Here was someone in front of him who was a practical stranger and yet someone who was on August's mind a lot recently. August could see Dylan's breath against the cold air as he waited for an answer. But answer there came none. There was none to give. August wasn't sure exactly why Dylan was on his mind. They had only met each other once. Well, twice if you count on the Quidditch field. But that really didn't count. The game against Slytherin had only lasted half an hour at the longest. Anyway you can't get properly acquainted when you're flying around on brooms. But still meeting this boy twice would not be enough reason to be on his mind.

They had not had a real conversation so thought provoking dialogue could not be the reason either. This was the first time that they had even learned each other's name. That only left aesthetic value. August recalled that the first time he thought of Dylan was when August was mad at Jack. It was during winter holiday and the family had just sat down for a 'family' dinner. Except there was nothing 'family' about the dinner. Their father was on a 'business trip' with his mistress, their mum was babbling about the wallpaper and Jack was missing. After dinner, August had gone up to his room and wished that he could beat some sense into Jack. It was Jack's fault that their family was a mess. If only Jack had believed August and did something about it. All of this was going through August's mind and he was growing more and more frustrated at his older brother. He knew in a physical match between the two, Jack would win, no questions asked. August wished that he knew someone who could stand up to Jack with him. That was the first time August could recall Dylan entering his mind. It was plain to see the Dylan was very fit. August bet that Dylan could take Jack on and win. But once August started thinking about the muscular Dylan he kept thinking about him. Sometimes even late at night.

But why? August didn't like boys. August didn't like girls either. But he didn't like boys. Did he? Would there be anything wrong if he did? Yes. Yes there would. It was normal to like girls. But Theo liked boys. He was normal. But Theo was different. Argh! This was too much for August. He would have to talk to Belle about it. August's eye's focused once again on Dylan. "I thought it was because..." His mouth felt dry even though he could feel snowflakes on his tongue. He wanted so much to tell Dylan. To let Dylan know that he was different. But he couldn't. "Because you were so rude to me in the corridor," August lied. "I was trying to apologise and you ran away." August pushed himself up with his hands to standing and brushed the snow off his winter robes. Anything to avoid those brown eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm cold." Part of August wanted to leave but part of him wanted Dylan to ask him to stay. August lingered to hear the response from Dylan pretending that the clump of snow on his shoulder would not come off.

[Dylan Caoimhe]

Dylan inhaled deeply, attempting to force down a strong sense of frustration that seemed to have crept up in his stomach and had begun making it's way up to his chest. He, August, was lying to him. Dylan knew it. Not just by the tone of August's voice when he spoke, but by his eyes. Dylan had found that to be a major flaw with people who had sensitive eyes; you could usually tell what was behind them. It was almost funny to see really. Their body language said one thing, but their eyes always gave them away. Dylan noticed that about some children back at the orphanage. When he was younger, seeing other kids get into trouble and try to get out of it by lying was one of the very few sources of amusement that Dylan had. He never understood the point of it if not telling the truth only got you into more trouble, and he watched howling with laughter as the kids would dig themselves deeper, and deeper, and deeper into a hole, all the while screaming in his head, ''JUST TELL THE TRUTH YOU IDIOT!'' And yet, here August was. He was definitely not in any trouble at the present moment, and yet, here he was. Lying.

Not breaking his gaze, Dylan stood up and slid his wand into his jacket pocket along with his hands. He wanted so badly to just say, ''kids'' and walk off, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. August was hiding something, and he lied to protect it, or so Dylan thought. He could think of no other reason as to why he would have said what he had. Maybe he was nervous, afraid, who knew. Well, August obviously, and why he thought he couldn't be honest, Dylan didn't know. He had tried his best to seem open, like anything could be said between them, but apparently that didn't work, and Dylan didn't mind; it wasn't exactly a side of him that was extended very often, so what he thought was friendly could have very well been down right creepy. Smiling, he cleared his throat, and took a hand out of his pocket to wipe off a snow flake that had caught in his eye lashes. ''Well, if your 'cold,' then I don't want to keep you.'' And with that, Dylan walked past August and made his way into the castle.

When he reached the Slytherin Common Room, he took off his gloves, took off his jacket, loosened his scarf, and plopped down in a chair in front of the fireplace. He had smiled all the way here, and he couldn't help it. It was funny. The whole situation was funny. He had been waiting for that moment for a while, and it didn't go exactly as he thought it would; though, he didn't even have the slightest idea of how he actually wanted it go in the first place. But, he was happy, and the answer set in just as waves of warmth from the fire drifted over his body. August didn't need to have said anything. His actions spoke for him. And the message, while not clear, let Dylan know one thing. There was something definitely there.

[August Reid R7]

Dylan's footsteps echoed in the quiet courtyard as he walked back to the castle. That wasn't the response that August was expecting. Did Dylan know that August was lying? August did have a habit of speaking more softly and less sure of his words when he lied. But August hoped that Dylan would take that as a personality quirk and not that he was lying. August quickly spun around and opened his mouth to say... something. Anything to remedy the situation. To bring Dylan back. "Wait!" he called. But it was in vain. Dylan was gone. August looked around awkwardly and felt his face blush. He had just yelled at nothing. He turned back toward the fountain. Filch turned the water off during the winter so right now it was just a piece of sculpted rock. August sighed. He had thought so many times of meeting Dylan again and yet, none of his ideas went quite like this.

Without really thinking about it, his legs started taking him back to the Ravenclaw dorm. There were other Ravenclaws there but at least they were logical. They didn't do anything without thinking about it. August didn't really pay attention to the route that he was taking, he let his subconscious do that. He kept replaying was just happened over and over in his head. If only I did this... he thought or If only he had said this... August would often replay events in his mind over and over again each time wishing and hoping that he could change the past. But August secretly knew that one could not change the past and it was hopeless to dwell on the past hoping it would change. But he couldn't help it. He wished things had gone better. Why couldn't he talk to Dylan? Why was he so intimidated by him? August wished that he could talk to Jack about this like he used to be able to but Jack would not want to hear any of his problems. Maybe he could talk to Theo. He would know what to do.

Reaching the common room, August looked around. The two people he was hoping to see where nowhere in sight. Belle probably finished her schoolwork early and was off somewhere having fun and Theo was probably with people his own age. Without making eye contact with anyone, August went up the staircase to the boy's room. He sat on his bed and closed the curtains. He didn't want the other fourth years to see him like this. They already thought he was weird but to be seen sitting staring off into space hugging his pillow was not what August needed right now. If only...if only... 'If only' was a common sentence starter of his thoughts right now. August wondered what Dylan was thinking right now. It obviously bothered him that August had lied so what would that mean the next time they met? Would Dylan be angry? Sad? Happy? August sighed again and rest his head against his bed staring at the ceiling of his four-poster bed. If only...