Dear Diary ((Charles))

[Ariane Chan]

"Yi, er, san, si, wu, liu, qi, ba..." Ariane counted the number of pages in her head in Chinese as she leafed through her private diary, trying to see how many more pages she had left before the book finished. It was a medium-sized A5 notebook with a black cover and red and gold lettering stating her name. It appeared she had ten pages remaining, and she made a mental note to buy a new one the next time she was allowed to go to Hogsmeade. She didn’t think she could wait till the end of term to return home, as that was quite a way off, and Ariane wrote quite a lot every few days. The ritual had been taken up upon since she was about ten years old, when her primary school teacher of that time had suggested it as a good outlet of one’s feelings. Ariane had previously thought the idea ridiculous – she didn’t want anyone except her mother knowing her true emotions; she certainly didn’t want a book to know. And what if someone stole it and read her words? Ariane used to shudder at the thought. However, nowadays she kept her diaries well hidden from everyone, and no one knew of their existence, even Ariane’s mother. The diaries were hers, and hers only. Since learning magic, she had looked up a particular hard spell to use to keep the books’ contents from anyone but her. This was her tenth diary. Ariane gazed at it proudly as she ran her fond fingers down its spine. Her old ones were locked away safely in the trunk she barely went into. She’d soon have her eleventh diary, and Ariane thought silently how grateful she was for this form of outlet. Sometimes it was a saviour, especially without her mother’s constant presence since she entered Hogwarts. Upon coming to the boarding school Ariane had written more than ever, sometimes enlisting daily entries. All her achievements and failures were submitted, all her happy moments and grieving thoughts. This particular diary was filled with memories from the last half a year, but she refrained from glancing through the pages. One day Ariane would sit down and read them thoroughly, eating her own words like nourishment. That day hadn’t come yet, but one day it would. For now, Ariane would ignore the words on the ever-so-slightly-creased pages. Her diaries were always filled with writing – English and Chinese – and occasionally photos, though usually they were of Harmony, and recently, Aurora.

Ariane could write Chinese fluently, and was glad of the skill. She practised it often – tried to write most of her diary entries in Chinese to practise, as she obviously wrote in English for her studies. She didn’t want to lose any of her knowledge, which was easy when it came to Chinese vocabulary. There was just so much to learn and remember. Occasionally her letters to her mother were in Chinese, depending on her mood. Lorraine Chan was just as fluent in English as she was in Chinese, having moved to England with her late parents at an early age. She had been adamant that her children also know the language, and although her estranged husband had also agreed to the idea (especially since his own parents could not speak English), he had input no help whatsoever into their learning. Lorraine home schooled her daughters herself in Chinese at home after they returned from muggle primary school each day in America, and maintained they use a British accent. Ariane had been easier to direct than Harmony, being older than her at the time, and to this day still had a perfect British accent, whereas Harmony sometimes slipped up into a slightly American inflection. However, when she was younger, Ariane wondered if her Britishness was a curse for her during her time in the US. She was often teased endlessly, though she always ignored it. She didn’t care what the other children thought, but she wished they would leave her alone. Ariane may have been an outcast, but she could speak two languages, and knowing another one had its benefits, as she could communicate with her family in secret. She had always been a very reserved person, and preferred to keep her personal affairs to herself. Even at Hogwarts Ariane would sometimes switch to speaking Chinese around Harmony and Aurora, even though she was well aware of how rude the Slytherins thought her. She didn’t care. The main reason she did it was so they couldn’t eavesdrop on their conversation and take information that didn’t concern them to spread rumours about her. Ariane was not usually a rude person, but if she believed something was right, she’d stick by it fiercely.

Ariane picked up her awaiting quill as she flipped back to the first unused remaining page, and began to write a new diary entry. Sitting against her favourite tree beside the Lake was Ariane’s most preferred place to write her most inner thoughts in the whole of Hogwarts. Even her dormitory was “unsafe”, as the girls kept going in and out, and Ariane could get no peace and quiet. Beside her was a CD player, whirring away silently as its earphones were plugged into Ariane’s ears, switched on a minimal volume. Sometimes she liked to have Aurora’s music drifting in her ears; they gave her a serene feeling which she felt she rarely could have nowadays. Some were Aurora’s cover songs, some her own. Most of them were her solo piano based ones, with her singing, but others were of her band pieces, which Ariane also liked. She had taken a liking to rocky music a while back. She now had quite a wide collection of Aurora’s CDs, as her cousin made them especially for her and Harmony. The Chan siblings still continued to use CD players, despite the mp3s popping up all over the place and the odd magical devices. Ariane preferred the muggle way; there were just some things she felt the muggles had a better grasp on, though she rarely made this known to others. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to anybody, however, as she had been brought up a muggle child. “Miniature disasters and minor catastrophes bring me to my knees. Well I must be my own master, or a miniature disaster will be, it will be the death of me.” Ariane tried not to want to sing along to the words. She had never been a musical person, unlike Aurora. She could still play the piano and had messed around on the bass guitar a few times, but her confidence in music was low, and neither did she have much love for it, apart from loving to listen constantly to songs. This was one of her favourite pieces of music by Aurora, and she was glad this one had come on now that she had begun to write her diary entry for today. ”I don't have to raise my voice, don't have to be underhand. Just got to understand that it's gonna be up and down, it's gonna be lost and found. And I can't take to the sky before I like it on the ground.” Ariane glanced up at the still waters of the Lake, thinking she had glimpsed a fish flittering by, but it was already gone. Looking down at the three lines that she had just written, she thought to herself about the events of the past few days. She suddenly remembered about how she had not received her mother’s weekly letter, and a frown appeared on her face. Ariane was already worried, being her usual paranoid self. Her mother was always on time with her replies, but Atalanta had returned last week alone. Ariane had gotten the gist from her pet owl that her mother had sent her back purposefully, but for what reason she had no idea.

Deciding to write this problem down in her diary, Ariane turned her head to back her diary, the music beating softly in her ears. ”And I need to be patient , and I need to be brave. Need to discover how I need to behave. And I'll find out the answers when I know what to ask, but I speak a different language and everybody's speaking too fast.” Ariane soon lost herself to the flow of her writing and music, the combination spinning her into concentrating oblivion. Half an hour later she was still sitting by the same tree, the grey skies indicating soon-to-come rain, which would’ve suited her just fine, but she did not notice. Ariane had managed to fill up three pages in the short space of time, and was just about to begin her fourth, when somebody tapped her lightly on the shoulder. Jumping in shock, Ariane’s earphones fell out as she flung herself away from a boy standing beside her, her eyes wide from his appearance. Where had he come from? She had been so engrossed in her diary, her head nodding along to the pounding music, that she had cut herself off from the outside world and had not heard the boy approaching. He appeared to be older than her, and from the looks of it, he was a Hufflepuff. Good, not a Slytherin. Cautiously closing her diary and shielding it from view, she tucked it to her chest protectively. Regaining her composure, Ariane stared up at him, her surprise turning to a patient look of annoyance. What did he want?

((Translation of "Yi, er, san, si, wu, liu, qi, ba..." = "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight..."))

[Charles Driscoll H7]

The Hogwarts Grounds were and always would be a place for inspiration for Charles, a soft place to fall, a place where he’d felt safe and happy and just in harmony with nature and everything that surrounded him. People said it was the colour green, or beautiful scenery, and beautiful views that gave one that feeling, but he’d had all that back at the place that was supposed to be his home and yet he'd never felt that way. But at Hogwarts he’d found his true home and friends, and for that he would always remember this place with love. He planned to walk through the gardens and then to the lake. Although on a day like this he’d normally have brought his camera with him Charles had decided to just take a quiet walk on his own, this year had started off with a number of surprises and he needed some time to think about things. And besides, he’d heard it might rain today, and although it was a hope of his to take some pictures in the rain, he hadn’t learnt how to do that yet. But it was still early in the day, and despite the things he had first he’d think of, like Harry’s death, and the state of the magical world right now, or even Samantha, he found his mind wandering to projects he was wishing he’d get a chance to work on. Charles wanted to learn so much, how to take pictures of wild animals, pictures like those in astronomical books – mostly everything he’d taken pictures of was people.

It’d been his form of escape, the stories he’d thrown himself into to forget his own, food to his imagination and thoughts rather than the sad story of his own life before Hogwarts – and then the summer before last, the darkest moments in his life, with his father locked away and his mother dead and his sister on the darkest spot on earth. But he’d pulled through, just like he hoped the magical world would now even after their saviour had died, but perhaps people would remember what he’d died for and the merciless acts of cruelty they’d been subjected to would become part of a gruesome history that was told in books and no longer a grim reality.

He walked around the lake slowly, sometimes playing with the water or watching the few fish that dared swim near the surface, his pace leisurely and his mind wandering at the same pace from one topic to another, the serenity of his surroundings encouraging him to lose tack of time. A slight disturbance in the water was caused by the fall of a leaf from a tree in the distance, and Charles fancied the concentric circles to be rather like a flower. I wonder what Ivy’s favourite flower is. A moment after that thought he felt a sudden cold and looked at his watch. It was later than he’d imagined and as he looked up at the sky he noticed it had turned ominously grey. He quickened his pace around the lake so he could fine some shelter when he noticed someone. A girl was engrossed in something and leaning on the tree he’d just seen the leaf fall from and she seemed o be oblivious to the darkening sky. Without a second thought Charles knew he had to warn her and he went up to her and tapped her shoulder.

He pointed up at the sky before looking back at the unfamiliar Gryffindor. Charles remembered a line from a song he’d once heard as he looked into Ariane’s dark eyes, a line he almost said to her. It may be raining, oh, but there’s a rainbow above you. He wasn’t quite sure what had made those words flit into his mind, but maybe it had to do with the obvious discomfort he had sensed about her when he’d tapped her lightly on the shoulder, as if the warning he’d wanted to give her had been an inexcusable invasion of her privacy. “I’m sorry you won’t be able to continue what you were doing. It’s one of my favourite places to work, here I mean, or just sit and think,” he said.

[Ariane Chan]

((Sorry it's so short! Loss of inspiration of what to write.))

Ariane regarded the older Hufflepuff boy with cautious eyes as they stared at each other. Following his pointing finger, she finally realised what he was getting at, and found herself surprised at his open kind gesture to warn her about the oncoming weather. Most people wouldn’t have bothered; some Slytherins would probably have even snickered to themselves, hoping to watch her get caught in a downpour. Unbeknownst to this Hufflepuff and other people, Ariane didn’t mind at all; on the contrary, she was looking forward to any rainfall. She had not noticed the darkening skies before, but now that this boy had pointed it out to her, Ariane was more contented than disgruntled. A part of her was even ecstatic, though she obviously refrained from showing this. Although rain would prevent her from continuing her writing, Ariane was almost finished, and her mind welcomed the thought of the cold drops of moisture on her skin. She could probably write forever, but she was admittedly getting gradually more tired, her eyelids drooping now and again like wilting flowers in the cold. Rain would be a refreshing wake up call.

Listening to the boy’s words as she left her diary carefully on the grass beside her, Ariane gave a small smile, a hint of gratefulness etched in her fatigued face. She couldn’t bring herself to be irritated, and found peaceful indifference welcoming. “mine too.” Ariane nodded with a quiet tone of voice, indicating the area they were in. There was a short silence between them, and Ariane’s discomfort forced her to make conversation. She found that she couldn’t make this Hufflepuff go away. She wasn’t scared of doing so, but she was more polite than that, and he had tried to be nice to her. “It’s peaceful.” Ariane commented curtly with closed eyes, leaning her head gently against the bark of the shady tree. She reopened them again when she remembered the boy’s apology about disturbing her, and shook her head politely, finding her attitude amusing. “You didn’t disturb me at a bad time. I’m glad to be able to rest my eyes.” Ariane turned her head to the sky again, eyeing the darkening clouds favourably. “Thanks for the forewarning, but I like the rain. A lot.” Ariane stated openly, a hint of pleasure across her face.

[Charles Driscoll H7]

He smiled; it was nice to find someone who liked the same place as he did. His eyes drifted fondly over the expanse of green, over a tree he particularly liked as it fit the shape of his back, memories of the various activities he had done here flashing through his mind. Ariane voiced his thoughts, and he nodded. “We only have a few moments to enjoy the peace,” he said, the increasingly darkening sky above them confirming his words. He was just about to leave her, and said, “Make the best of them,” when Ariane made another comment. “I didn’t necessarily mean you had to go in. I just wanted you to notice that before it started so it wouldn’t spoil whatever you were working on, I know there are charms for that sort of thing, but I thought maybe I could have saved you that trouble,” he continued.

It was a strange thing rain, in literature and in people's opinions at least. It was often described as cleansing, Shakespeare had described the falling of rain as something that was gentle, and people said feeling the rain made you feel alive. And yet, in other contexts, it was seen in a negative light. Light shining through the rain. Personally, Charles loved being out in a drizzle or a shower. He galnced back at Ariane and fancied he could detect a sort of defiance in her, a sort of quiet rebellious spirit. “I know, me too. I like it after it rains too, it’s usually when I get my best photographs,” he said. “I think it’s just going to be a shower,” he said hopefully. “Charles Driscoll, Hufflepuff fifth year,” he said, extending his hand.

((Have I complained? Short works for me.))

[Ariane Chan]

Ariane listened to what the Hufflepuff had to say, finding his calming exterior easy to trust, yet didn’t want to be fooled so easily. The nicest people always had the worst flaws… or maybe she was just being cynical. Ariane and trust didn’t go hand in hand readily, time being the one factor Ariane needed to get to know someone, but this boy was proving to be a likeable companion already, and he made some very good points which she agreed with. He seemed like your typical Hufflepuff, and in some ways reminded her of Harmony a lot (not so much Aurora). It was probably his aura that exuded niceness, his calm and peaceful voice which contained no trace of evil intent. And that easy-going smile. It was like a male older version of Harmony, though he probably wasn’t so naïve, and definitely not as shy. “I will do.” Ariane nodded with a hint of a smile, knowing exactly what he meant. Moments of peace were short, rare and precious, and she treasured them because of that. Ariane was used to making the best out of the little she had. Usually she wouldn’t have so willingly agreed to someone’s advice, but she couldn’t help but realise he was voicing her own inner thoughts; thoughts that Ariane could never fully express, he was putting into simple words.

“Well, thank you.” Ariane was grateful to his thoughtful actions, and stared above at the darkening skies, “It’s not everyday you get to meet someone as friendly.” She almost snorted aloud at the thought of some other people she had met whilst being at Hogwarts, “I appreciate it. I’m pretty much finished with this anyway.” She motioned towards her diary before picking it up and holding it close to her chest protectively, “I wouldn’t have used a charm,” Ariane added as she cautiously stood up, brushing down her clothes to rid them of any blades of grass that had attached itself to her, “Too unnatural.” Turning her dark eyes on him, she shut her mouth after realising how close to “friendly” she was being. Now that was unnatural. Although Ariane had to admit being with lots of friends made you feel better, and you had so much fun together just talking and laughing, and she missed it ever so much in her heart, the fact that loved ones eventually hurt you the most drove her to build a solid wall around herself. She was impenetrable. Right? Aurora was an exception, but even Ariane needed a friend, and she was exactly that. It helped Aurora was one of those understanding people who barely offended others, despite the fact she was often lying through her teeth… Despite that, Ariane was grateful for her presence in her life.

Ariane was not a natural loner. She liked a small group of close friends, and enjoyed people’s company. But throughout her life not many people had bothered to near her, choosing to bully her endlessly instead, and those who had tried had been unsuccessful because they were merely using her for their own purposes. Ariane’s father had also been a key factor in her distrust of others, and she couldn’t help but be deeply afraid of how much damage a loved one can do. If you didn’t get close to them, then they couldn’t properly hurt you, right? They couldn’t leave you as well, and break your heart in the process. Ariane also knew that it worked both ways – people couldn’t hurt her, and she couldn’t hurt other people. Ariane hated to be the cause of suffering for her loved ones, and this was a way that guaranteed nobody got hurt. She was extra careful with Harmony and Aurora, and she knew them well enough, but she was aware that sometimes even she struck the wrong chords in both of them, and was extremely afraid of doing so. It was one of Ariane’s greatest fears in life.

Suddenly, Ariane was pulled from her drifting thoughts by the boy’s distant voice, and she was very grateful for the distraction that drew them back into conversation. Turning to face him, she noted that he was taller than her, and tried to maintain a small smile for the sake of it. He had been pleasant to her, and although Ariane knew she did not need to return the gesture, she felt a huge inclination to do so; that was her personality for you. Ariane never took anything for free, and always felt the need to give something back, hence her hatred of people giving her charity. She wasn’t going to lie about anything, but she could make the effort to be a little nicer. Ariane felt she was doing a good job already. “Photography?” Ariane eyed the boy with a little interest, though did not find the statement a surprise; he seemed the type of boy who would like photography. Ariane liked photos a lot, but she also hated some, choosing to hide the extremely old ones away, push them as far as possible from her mind. They brought up memories she didn’t like to think about. Ariane nodded in reply to the Hufflepuff’s prediction, agreeing with his words, though not his hopefulness, “Yeah, it’ll be a shower. Shame. I was hoping for a storm.” Ariane could anticipate the feel in the air, but as she had said, she was disappointed the weather was maintaining itself on a small scale. She currently felt like running through a major storm with lashing rain pounding against her head. “Ariane Chan, fourth year. Gryffindor, if that wasn’t obvious already.” Ariane took Charles’ hand with a slight smile, being her usual courteous, yet stand-off-ish self. She hoped he wouldn’t take offence to her attitude. “Nice to meet you, Charles.” Ariane added as an afterthought, and wondered if Aurora or Harmony had ever encountered Charles before. They might be able to tell her more.

((Lol, well, I’m sorry to say this isn’t as short! And for the record, I think your new avatar is fine. ))

[Charles Driscoll H7]

Friendly. Almost anyone would like to be called that, but to Charles, it was the most important thing in the world. Charles was quite self-confident and comfortable in his own skin, but years ago he’d had to tell himself every day that what he felt in his heart was right and true and sincere, not the ideals his parents had tried first through persuasion and then by brute force to make Charles believe in. And when he’d first come to Hogwarts it had been like a breath of fresh air for a person who’d almost drowned, like a current that had finally stopped constantly pushing at him. He’d finally found people who understood him and he was swimming with the flow. He knew he wasn’t afraid to stand up for what he believed in when he had to, but it had been hard being alone, in a state of constant need to reassure himself. And so the friends he’d found at Hogwarts, and the people who leaned on him in their times of need, were the people who meant the world to him. In fact there had been occasions when he had put up with things most people wouldn’t have put with from their friends, simply because the thirst he’d had for that kind of relationship had finally been quenched, and it was not something he was ready to ever go back to. The summers had been hard enough back home when he’d been punished all the time, and last summer had been the hardest when he’d been afraid he might end up in a foster home. But it had been worth it, he had the greatest reward now, a real father and a sister on her way to becoming fully healed.

The way she held the diary to her chest made her seem protective of it and Charles refrained from asking her anything about it, she was holding it in an “I’ve-just-finished-something-very-special” kind of way but rather “If-you-read-what’s-in-this-I’ll-kill-you” kind of way. Charles wondered that she didn’t make him feel completely uncomfortable and want to leave, because he didn’t know what it was exactly about Ariane that made her seem mysterious and happy to be in a detached world of her own, and yet he sensed that she had relaxed, perhaps relaxed was a strong word, but Charles had lived with Samantha for years, and though he’d never been able to read or understand her for most of that time, he’d finally been able to tell when she did by the very minute changes in her demeanour that almost no-one would notice unless they knew her for some time and made the effort to try and get close to her. And so he thought that Ariane had – temporarily at least – for the lack of a better world – relaxed.

“I know, it’s better this way. Actually I could, but you never know do you?” he said, when she said she was a Gryffindor. He didn’t like stereotypes. “Yes. It started out as a hobby, but it’s something I hope to take up as a profession one day. I still have a long way to go though,” he said modestly. He had to laugh when she said she wished it was a storm. He’d never met a person who liked being in storms yet. “I’ve never been out in a storm before. Though I suppose I could tell you’re not the kind of person who’d be curled up under the covers even during the worst storm,” said Charles. He wasn’t looking at her, but still found it a very difficult image to conjure in his head. “What do enjoy about that?” he asked. There was a quote he’d always liked about storms. He said it before Ariane could reply to his question. “What’s that saying? It’s not about avoiding the storm, it’s about learning how to dance in the rain. And you can call me Charlie,” he said, remembering he’d meant to tell her that at first.

[Ariane Chan]

“No, you don’t.” Ariane’s lips curled a little in a wry smile, before letting go of Charles hand and letting it wrap around her diary protectively again. “I may obviously be a Gryffindor, but I’m more commonly known as a Slytherin, actually. One’s house does not define one’s personality.” Rolling her eyes to the dark skies, Ariane closed her mouth again with a cooler, but still calm expression on her face. This wasn’t her favourite topic to talk about… She didn’t talk much anyway, but this definitely was something she strayed from, so she did just that. “You’ll get there if you keep at it.” Ariane stated earnestly with an encouraging look in her eyes, nodding to herself absentmindedly. “You’re lucky you have an idea of what you want to be. I have no clue. How are you meant to know if you want to stay in the wizard world, or return to the muggle one?” Shrugging half helplessly, half in frustration, Ariane tried to maintain a serene front, but found herself getting a little more agitated. It wasn’t Charles who was causing the problem though, it was just because her thoughts were beginning to gather themselves in one tight ball again. Annoyed at herself, Ariane scattered her problems into different corners of her brain, intending to deal with them later.

“Hell no.” Ariane once again found herself smiling slightly at Charles’ statement. “When there’s a storm I’m always out there in it. I’m weird, and I know it.” An amused expression lit her face, laced with a hint of pride and defiance. “Perhaps you should try it sometime… But it’s not for everyone.” Ariane chuckled for the first time during their encounter, and suppressed it after a moment or so, wondering what it was about Charles that made him seem so likeable. To other people, he didn’t seem Ariane’s type of friend. Too calm, too nice. But that was sort of Aurora, sort of Harmony, right? Ariane seemed to fit with Hufflepuffs, although she was headstrong, bold and temperamental. It was a weird combination, but it seemed to work. Charles was probably the first person Ariane had met since she had entered Hogwarts that had been so friendly with her aside from Aurora. Perhaps because he had caught her off guard, or maybe it was because of his decent attitude so many people she had met lacked. Ariane had always been a bully magnet… and her cold exterior put people off. They probably didn’t realise she could in fact hold a normal conversation if they persisted enough.

“What do I like about it?” Ariane raised an eyebrow at Charles’ enquiring question, and found herself smiling softly as she thought about the answer she was going to give, “… It’s different every time. Sometimes I go out there for salvation, where the rain can wash away everything bad and let me start afresh. Sometimes I go out there to pent my anger, and I can feel the storm is speaking my emotions. I come back empty but calm. Sometimes I just love the sound of it around me, the feel of the rain against my skin. I find the sunny weather doesn’t define me well enough. Rain is soothing for me. It’s… hard to explain.” Ariane frowned, finding it hard to continue, firstly because she honestly didn’t know how to fully describe it, and secondly due to the fact she was exposing a rather hidden side to her. It was like she was spilling some dark secret, and stopping here felt like a wise choice. “I think it’s different for everyone… so I’d advise experiencing it for yourself.” She finished with a dwindling voice, her smile turning from tender to sad at memories that glazed over in her eyes.

“Good quote.” Ariane added, remembering what Charles had previously said, but she’d neglected in her sudden ramblings. “I think I know how to dance in the rain.” She admitted carefully, looking up at the sky in the process to stare at the heavens that would soon bring long awaited rain. Stretching out a hand, palm facing upwards, Ariane turned to look at Charlie with anticipation and excitement concealed beneath her eyes, a small but distinctive smile on her face, “Okay then, Charlie, how about you come on a walk in the rain with me. Perhaps you will understand what I mean.” A drop of water fell onto Ariane’s outstretched hand, and she relished the feel of it as it ran down her skin, “You might catch a cold. You probably won’t like it. But it’s up to you. For once I’m open to the company, and I promise I won’t bite your head off…” Ariane tore her gaze away from Charlie and intently watched the sky that was starting to bring the rain, “Welcome to my world.” She whispered to the air.

[Charles Driscoll H7]

“Amen to that,” he said, a little surprised at how much feeling went into that simple sentence. He wondered if Samantha would find the much-needed bravery to make something out of her life. He knew it was the thing she needed most, the one thing she had more than anyone was an incredible ambition to do was to make something of herself, but that was not enough – she would need focus, self-discipline, and finally, bravery. It was the thing he feared most that she would not find, the other qualities he knew were there, she just needed to rediscover them and then they needed to be guided in the right direction. He wished Samantha had someone to help her find that courage or give her some. Can a person could give courage to another person? How much?. It was strange how much the two were thinking of their siblings and yet neither of them had brought them up yet. I will keep at it, it’s the thing I enjoy most in my life, but will anyone believe in me enough to employ me? “It’s just something I used at first to distract myself and escape from certain things – and then I fell in love with taking pictures,” he said, knowing and feeling lucky indeed. It had been the one constant good thing in his life; in the darkest moments, Charles had always known he had that one passion he could lose himself in. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it if I were you, people change their minds about these things all the time, and it’s not like you have to take the decision tomorrow. If you do have something you know to be a talent though, work on it,” he said. “I’ve never lived in the muggle world, fascinating as I find it. And I think it may be rash to make such a decision now, we’re still evolving as individuals really, especially at Hogwarts, I feel like that’s always happening,” he continued. Charles was an optimistic and calm person. It was a quiet sort of quality but it radiated from him and most of his friends found it quite comforting. The future was obviously not a topic that she liked discussing – but then would he be able to find something that she did? Well, the answer to that question might be negative, but he would make sure that wouldn’t be due to lack of trying on his part.

She was smiling, it lasted for moments, but it reached her eyes, and Charles had the impression that much was going inside her head that he didn’t know. He was looking at the sky then back at her as the clouds gathered above them and the light faded away obscured by them. Very soon the storm was going to start. “No, you described it perfectly,” he said, quite moved by her words. He’d never exactly though rain could mean that anyone, even though he’d always liked it. Was she actually suggesting they stay out here together in the storm? Her next words answered his question. “If you’d be so kind as to allow me to join you,” he said with a smile.

His decision to stay outside with Ariane said more about Charles' wanting to understand people and make friends than it did about his bravery. Unbeknownst to her, she’d said all she needed to when she said “Welcome to my world” to make Charles make his mind then and there. A history of having been shut out from people’s lives with or without his own choice had made him that way, and he didn’t stop to think that he was a prefect, or that they could both catch terrible colds, or that he might actually get scared and make a complete fool out of himself in front of Ariane. He could see that each word was carefully thought out and weighed before she uttered it, and Charles, because of whom he was, felt privileged because Ariane had chosen him to enter her world. He didn’t stop to think about different worlds clashing.

Slowly, first on his head and then on his upturned hands, he felt the first few drops of rain. He smiled as he remembered how as a child he and Sam would open their mouths and taste the water, and how he’d once pretended to be a wanderer in the desert overjoyed at rain that had arrived at the last moment. It seemed rather unimaginative and not much of a game to him now, but it was a good memory. It was something to hold on to from his childhood, and he hadn’t remembered it for a while. They were walking at a languid pace, but Charles liked that because it meant they could talk. “When you said dance in the rain, did you mean it literally or figuratively?” he asked her. And now the drizzle was giving way to real rain and Charles was wondering if they were going to at least move under a tree. But he was in Ariane’s world now, and she made the decisions.

((Meant to say this in my previous post actually, thanks, all credit goes to Mack for finding it.))

[Ariane Chan]

Ariane nodded thoughtfully at Charlie's response to her future goals, "I'm not worried, merely... contemplating. I suppose my passion lies in art, though I don't know what I would do with that in the future. I found it only because it's my escape too, the way I show my emotions." Ariane resisted a roll of her eyes. She may appear like a statue, unfeeling, emotionless, but like every other human being in the world, she could feel pain and sadness, contentment and anger. She just didn't openly show it like some people did. "Everyone needs some sort of an escape. Yours is photography, mine art." Ariane stated simply with a shrug of her shoulders. She was starting to sound like Aurora, which was unsurprising, but slightly scary. She turned her head at Charlie's next sentence, and smiled a little at his words, "... Both the muggle world and the wizard world are fascinating places. But they also both contain stuff which you don't want to think about." Ariane quipped, frowning slightly as her mind wandered to negative regions, though refrained from voicing her thoughts. "I agree with you though," She continued, not letting her negativity consume her, as it usually did, "I'm always growing, changing. Can't help it. But at the end of the day, I still think I'm me."

Ariane readily accepted Charlie's presence when he agreed to acompany her. As she sent him a fleeting smile of encouragement (just in case he changed his mind now and ran away as fast as possible from this weird child who liked to roam in the rain), she began to lead them at a slow walking pace around the Grounds, the rain starting to fall down in light drops for now. From experience, Ariane knew that the droplets would soon become bigger, heavier, and she could barely wait for the pelting sensation against her skin. Ariane longed for that salvation. Glanving down at the diary in her hands, Ariane quickly took her wand from her pocket and performed a waterproofing spell on the book, anxious not to get it wet. The ink would run everywhere and then it would inevitably be ruined. Magic couldn't perform miracles. Peering up at the sky again, Ariane noted with contentment that it was extremely overcast now; not a piece of blue in sight, only slithers of dark grey and light grey, preventing the sun's enlightening rays to pierce them. "Perfect." Turning towards Charlie, she indicated she follow him down to the Lake, where the raindrops were causing multiple ripples across the once smooth surface. Ariane smiled fondly at the sight, relishing as the rain touched her exposed skin.

Ariane couldn't help but burst out laughing at Charlie's next question, which he asked with the most serious face she had seen. Trying to desperately contain her giggles, she coughed repeatedly to rid the peals of laughter from spilling out of her mouth. Charlie was pretty funny, despite not actually trying. "Well, I have tried before, but my sister's the dancer. I'm the artist. My version of dancing is this." Spontaneously spinning around on the spot, arms flung wide open as the rain began to fall heavier around them, Ariane tipped her face to the heavens as the pitter-patter sounds filled her mind, hitting the ground with its usual beat. Feeling one drop bounce and flow down her cheek, she smiled with closed eyes before surfacing again to look at Charlie, suppressing the urge to blush at her weird antics. The rain did this to her. Made her feel all sorts of things. Normally she came out here to throw away any sadness, and she usually ended up crying in storms, kneeling on the ground and praying to the God she didn't believe in to save her, so this wonderful, almost flying sensation as she twirled in the rain was rather newfound. It had never felt so exhilerating before, and Ariane couldn't help but grin with obvious pleasure. When she was with the rain, she felt whole again. She felt like herself. "So... do you understand what I was saying, or is the rain merely making you wet and miserable?" Ariane asked with a playful smile, throwing a lock of hair over her shoulder.

"Are you sure you want to stay with me?" Ariane asked again through the drumming of the rain, noticing that many students were making their way inside with the intent to stay out of this weather. That left her and Charlie to battle it out with the rain, but Ariane merely saw it was her saviour rather than her enemy. Her hair was already half wet, the straight strands hanging down her damp but flushed face, despite the cold. The tips of her locks were dripping with water, helping to moisten her robes even more, but she merely ignored it. Although her clothes were pressing to her body, sucking away all the heat she was emitting, Ariane was used to it. Unlike Harmony, she never caught colds from venturing outside in the cold. Whatever the weather, Ariane didn't fall ill, whether it be in snow, rain or a major storm. However, she couldn't help but be concerned for Charlie's health. She didn't want to drag this poor boy out here and make him catch a cold. "Charlie, you may fall ill. Leave me anytime you want. I don't want to be held responsible for you catching a cold, that wasn't my intention." Ariane stated openly with a concerned frown at her company. She had enjoyed it so far, and would be sorry to see him go, but she couldn't keep him here against his will. Charlie was already soaked as well.

((Lol, Mack always finds amazing avatars with good poses and stuff. The envy!))

[Charles Driscoll H7]

He was startled by her admission, not so much that art was her form of her escape, but rather that she admitted it was her way of showing emotion. Is it her only way of doing that? What exactly is Ariane's story? Charles had found that sharing a personal detail about you often encouraged people to open up about themselves. "Do you know, when I first started taking pictures, I'd make believe I was part of the stories I tried to capture in them. I'd take pictures of random people that I liked the expressions of, just because I liked a certain look in their eyes, and then pretend I was part of their family for a few minutes. I grew out of that with time, but I still let the love I caught in those 'Kodak' moments as some people call them give me hope and faith. What is it that you like to do? Draw, paint, sculpt or crafts?" he asked curiously.

He smiled back at Ariane, although he wasn't too certain about what they were doing. He looked up at the sky – they were in it for it now, or at least they would be in a few minutes. The lake was quite a sight when they reached it. He pushed his hair away from his face- it was wetter than he expected. He hadn’t quite yet felt the water on his skin as he was completely covered and the water had yet to penetrate his clothes. "This is going to sound extremely cliché, but I've always believed that dancing is more about how you feel in your heart than what you do while you're dancing," he said, grinning at Ariane. "I wasn't angry when I came here, so I don’t know if standing in the rain can help me release or soothe my anger," he said. He raised his hands to the sky and did as Arian had done a few moments ago, closing his eyes and letting the water fall down on his face. "I love the sound of it though, and the patterns I can see on the surface of the lake. I think – I think that it's a reminder of how beautiful nature is," he said, looking all around him. "I bet you like thunder, but now there's something I'm never going to learn to like. That's like nature raging at us for all the wrong we've done to it and neglecting it," he said.

The rain was getting heavier now, and Charles found himself walking quicker to keep warm. "Ariane, I'm actually older than you and a prefect," he said. "If anyone should be held responsible for anything we're doing, it should be me. And up till now, I'm enjoying this new experience. I'm grateful for you because you introduced me to it. I don’t think I'm quite immune to this as you appear to be, but give me a break – it's only my first time," he said. He put his cold hands into his coat, and wondered if Ivy would've liked this at all.

[Ariane Chan]

((I did this during a physics lesson, lol, so… Enjoy. My next reply will, admittedly, be a long time later. Thanks for your patience.))

Ariane raised a slender eyebrow at Charlie’s story, and a small smile spread onto her lips. She wondered whether it was hard for him to admit such things about himself to an utter stranger like her; perhaps it was even easier. Ariane certainly found confiding in people she didn’t know or trust difficult; impossible, even. However, she suddenly realised that burdening a random stranger was easier than it seemed, if that person was the right kind of stranger. Charlie was willing to listen; he even seemed intrigued, from what Ariane could tell, but not in a nosy, intrusive kind of way. He was curious about her, hence his questioning, but perhaps he was just being polite. Cocking her head to one side, Ariane smiled up at Charlie softly, grateful to know he could tell her such personal things about himself. It made her feel worthy of the world, like she could make a difference. “That’s kind of… cute.” Ariane commented with a chuckle, but her expression faded slightly as she stared into the distance, trying to imagine what Charlie’s childhood had been like for him to pretend he belonged. ”He must have had a difficult upbringing.” Ariane thought to herself, feeling pity rise in her chest. She knew what a hard childhood was. She had experienced it herself. However. Ariane quickly pushed her feelings down again, not sure if Charlie would want her sympathy, especially since she didn’t really know him. Maybe she was just reading too much in between the lines, but even if her suspicions were true, it was none of her business, and Ariane could never imagine what it had been like in his shoes.

“… Sad.” Ariane murmured to herself subconsciously, before Charlie’s next question wrenched her away from her dawdling thoughts, “Oh, um… No, I don’t sculpt or craft. I’ve never tried because I’ve never been given the opportunity. Still, I doubt I’d enjoy it as much as I do sketching.” Ariane flashed Charlie a brief smile before continuing, “I do drawing and painting. Anything that involves a piece of paper and some drawing materials, whether that be paint, pencils, chalk… you name it.” Ariane smiled to herself as an image of her precious box of art materials surfaced in her mind. It had been a birthday present from her mother, aunt and Harmony for her thirteenth birthday, and Ariane treasured it, because before then, she could only use lead and colour pencils to draw. Paint was a completely new way of expression, and currently it was arguably her favourite medium. Ariane had also recently acquired a few more sketchpads because her old ones were full to the brim, just like her diaries. “I lie.” Ariane suddenly spoke up as she turned back to Charlie, “Art is not the only way I express myself fully. I also write. In a diary.” She motioned at the waterproofed book lying in her arms, a hesitant, but fond smile on her face.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Ariane’s face split into a larger smile as they moved on, Charlie talking slowly beside her. His presence was calming, in the same way as the rain was calming to her. But the two were so different… Ariane chuckled to herself inside at this thought. “I suppose I dance less physically than I do emotionally and mentally.” Ariane admitted, staring at her feet automatically. “Dancing is one of the ‘sports’ I can’t do. At all. Too graceful.” Ariane chuckled to herself as she observed the ground they stood on. It was wet, but thankfully not muddy, the grass a vivid green in comparison to the sudden grey blanket the miniature storm had brought on Hogwarts. “You seem to know me so well already.” Ariane teased Charlie warmly, a little surprised however that he could tell or guess about her preferences. Was she that transparent? “I do like thunder… I prefer lightning. But the one thing I love most is this.” Ariane let a hand try and catch some falling rain again, a fond smile on her face, “The rain.” Walking a few steps forward, Ariane was careful where she treaded, aware that patches of mud were frequent in weather like this. That had always been the downfall of a storm. “But I’ll tell you what I don’t like. The mud.” Making a rare squirmed expression, Ariane gestured around her before laughing softly to herself. “I’m such a girl. It’s pathetic.”

”I’m pathetic.” Ariane’s expression was thoughtful at Charlie’s comment about nature’s rage, and she curled her bottom lip in thought, half aware of the rain falling around her, “I can see where you’re coming from… But once a storm is over, the beautiful stuff comes along. It’s like a clean slate. Rain washing away everything to leave peace. I suppose I use the weather to mimic me. The thunder is my rage, the lightning my pain. And the rain is my salvation.” Ariane accompanied her thoughts with a small shrug, self conscious about what she had just shared, yet strangely pleased she had done so. She wasn’t yearning for Charlie, or anyone else, to understand her. No. But she wanted to tell someone. Because she wanted to know that he wanted to know, wanted to try to understand this girl he didn’t know. Charlie only helped to back this up with a smile and a comment so typical of someone like him. Ariane felt tears prick at her eyes, but she was sure no one would notice due to the heavy rain. Quickly she suppressed them. ”Kind people are always taken advantage of. People like him, like Aurora, like Harmony. Do I deserve these people’s kindness?”

“I’m grateful to you too.” Ariane suddenly replied with another smile, and cast her eyes downwards in half shame, laughing a little, “You don’t need to be grateful to me at all. I’m just happy I could give something… Though you could hardly call this anything!” Ariane pointed at the sky, the falling rain, with a half bitter smile which she wanted, but didn’t, conceal. How much longer would this last?

[Charles Driscoll H7]

Charles couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the word cute. It was hardly that, not in any fashion, form or sense, and he almost regretted sharing it until he heard the almost inaudible other word she said. And he realised the first time she'd spoken was because she hadn’t known what exactly to say, but he'd had other people react in exactly the same way when he made his personal announcements unexpectedly. But that was Charles all over, unguarded, and unafraid of being personal. Two years ago his story had been private, a burden and a guilty history he kept concealed. The first person he'd ever told the truth to about his family was Mary Evans, and since then, he'd been more open and ready to tell people of his background, as much as he wanted no part of it. It was that perhaps that had helped him the most when during the summer it had finally come out in the papers about his father's disgusting and evil history, the fact that his real friends knew him, and who he was, not the story that the papers printed about a man who was now locked up for life and his wife who had killed herself. It was that that had allowed him to slowly accept that his identity need not be tied to them in any way, because there were other people who meant the world to him and to whom he meant the world that he could identify with and call family. His own sister had nearly driven herself insane over what had happened. But Charles had been able to distance himself from it, and he'd made a decision since then: you told your story, with your own words, and people could take it or leave it. But shying away from it was no way to live. And so if other people couldn’t do it or felt awkward when he did it that was their problem – if you were going to know someone, you had to know their story. And Charles was certainly hoping this wasn't going to be his last meeting with Ariane, so he wanted her to know sooner rather than later. Of course there were people who didn’t know what to say or how to react, who often said something callous when they didn’t mean it in a hurtful manner, but you had to learn to see beyond that. In Charles' book, any reaction was better than no reaction.

He smiled a little to himself when she shared with him that she wrote in a diary. He was startled at her admission, not so much at the fact that she did but that she should tell him. "There are no words," he said as he looked around them, a mixture of emotions coming over him, a tingling sensation in the small of his back that he recognised to be excitement and nothing to do with the cold trail of water that was running down his back. "I don't think you really mean that," he said, playfully so as not to ruin the mood. If he thought he knew one thing it was that there were many layers and secrets; that there was much he might never find out about her. He laughed at the "I'm pathetic" comment. "I haven't meant many boys who like mud myself," he said with a grin. "I reckon I was wrong when I said there are no words. You describe it so - ," he couldn’t find a word to finish off his sentence, but his eyes and the inflection of his voice said it all.

Perhaps he could learn something about this unknown girl from this situation: she allowed her true character to show in the face of hardships. He couldn’t reason why she was the way she was, only that it was probably that the little everyday things that made Ariane clam up because she felt she wanted to do more with herself, that if she wasn't fighting something or someone, then it somehow lowered her estimation of her self-worth. Then again, how could he judge her when he'd been with her less than an hour? Charles had fought, but because he had to, and he was happy with what he'd done and could happily live without having to do it again.

Charles took Ariane's hand and then did a little bow. For a moment he felt the water hit him right on the back of his head, but he was holding Ariane's gaze and it was so mysterious and he felt a little unsure of his next step that he really wasn't bothered by it; his primary focus was on his companion. He twirled her gently around on the spot and then let go of her hand. Her cold wet curls had almost touched his face and he found himself glad that they hadn't, and Charles wondered at her complete comfort in this surrounding. It was hardly what you'd call a peaceful scene, then again, maybe that was just in his head, a preconceived notion, because he still found the rain falling from the heavens down onto the lake to be a mesmerising sight, touching something inside him that made him feel an inner peace, and though it had finally soaked the material of his coat and clothes and had now seeped through to his skin, he wasn't ready to run in yet. "You can't feel all that about this and say it's nothing. You've given me the pleasure of a new experience. As artists we're always supposed to be looking for new experiences aren't we?" he said. "Besides, I think my jacket needed washing anyway," he said light-heartedly. "Have you ever shown anyone your art?" he asked. He'd wondered about that but hadn't been sure whether he should ask the question or not.

[Ariane Chan]

Ariane’s gaze flickered to Charles face out of the corner of her eyes momentarily as he spoke, roaming the damp blonde hair and twinkling eyes in observant silence. He was one of those kinds of people. On the outside, they appeared like open books; easy to read, unguarded, left for you to devour and sink your poisoned claws into. They could talk to you so easily with a friendly smile, unafraid of what might happen to them; as if nothing could penetrate their defences, when in fact, they should, could, be knocked over in a second… But he wasn’t delicate though, or made of china porcelain. He was much more than that. In fact, Ariane could tell he was stronger than he appeared to be, like there was an inner light lit deep within, burning, unknown to everyone else. Those kinds of people still had their strength, their courage. They may not seem to be tough, violent; but that didn’t mean they were weak.

Ariane wished she were like that. Like Charles. Like Aurora. Like Harmony. Anyone but this. This… thing. This heart and this brain. These thoughts. They were all her, what made her… her. And Ariane couldn’t stand it. She was such an ugly human being in comparison to these beautiful, angelic people. So stained and corrupted. How could someone be so nice yet still continue to be unbreakable? Ariane knew what she was. She was cold, distant, unsociable. She didn’t let anyone in, and treated everyone like they weren’t worth her time. Which wasn’t completely true; she just liked solitude. But still. Ariane was evil. She was anything but good, anyway. Ariane had told herself that niceness, friendship… they were sacrificed for being strong. Who cared to have friends if one could easily be hurt by them? Yet Ariane still wasn’t strong. Nowhere near. In fact, she was weak. So, so weak. Ugly and weak.

Drawing herself with elusiveness out of her thoughts, Ariane smiled slightly as Charlie seemed to trail his words away to nothing, leaving only the quiet humdrum of the rain against the earth. Ariane felt her guard wanting to bolt up all the time, turn and run in the opposite direction and leave Charlie by himself. She knew she had let on more about herself than she had wanted to, but yet she couldn’t stop herself. Even Ariane needed company, someone to talk to whom she didn’t know, sometimes. Yes, even she did.

Not that she’d ever want to admit it.

It was already too far gone. Ariane had revealed a lot about herself, but she doubted she’d shed any more light on herself. It’d make her more uncomfortable, and she felt, miraculously, okay at the moment having exposed herself in so many minor ways which others would’ve seen as barely social. But to Ariane, she was trying harder than ever, though no one would know, to talk to Charlie, to give him the benefit of the doubt and trust him. Trust was not something Ariane merely handed out to you on a silver platter, offering for you to take it with a sweet smile. Trust was something that was locked away in a heart of frozen ice. Trust was something that kept Ariane from being hurt.

Ariane was surprised as Charlie took her hand gently, and she let him too, without protest. On instinct she would have normally battered the offender to pieces by now. Ariane hadn’t taken those self defence classes for nothing. She wasn’t afraid of hurting anyone physically, and she also didn’t like strangers touching her. It felt like they were getting too close. But Ariane let him. She let Charlie twirl her around slowly, her face a mixture of emotions as she numbly spun on the spot, until she came to rest and he let her go. Staring up at him with an odd expression, she peered into the eyes that was Charles Driscoll and felt like she was peering into his very soul… A soul which was understanding, accepting… Yet strong. Somehow, instinctively, Ariane knew that Charlie too, had suffered hardships in his life. He didn’t have that haunted glaze in his eyes that Ariane probably bore, but she could still tell. Ariane wondered if she'd find out more about Charlie; she found herself wanting to find out more. Would he open up completely to a stranger like her? Was he even more guarded than she was? Normally, Ariane couldn't care less about other people's affairs. But she was curious, inquisitive, about this Hufflepuff... Wanted to know what made Charlie Charlie. What it was that made him what he was today.

“No.” Ariane admitted to Charlie’s question as the dancing in the rain experience was placed out of mind for now. “I haven’t really shown my art work to anyone but my sister, mother, and occasionally, my one and only best friend. You may know her. Aurora. She’s in Hufflepuff too. Crazy, wacky… the complete opposite of me.” Ariane gave a wry smile. “… Showing someone my art is like… showing someone me. And that’d be simply… criminal.” Ariane whispered into the dark air as she came to a sudden halt in her speech. Yes, it would be criminal. So what was she doing here? She looked up at the sky with a perturbed expression on her face, one which hopefully Charlie couldn’t see, nor decipher. The rain continued to fall. Somehow Ariane had lost track of time. Lost the reason to why she was out here with this… utter stranger. But she didn’t really care. It didn’t matter. Sometimes in life you just had to stop and make exceptions. Life could surprise you, and Ariane wanted to take things as it was, relish and cherish this moment for now. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t be doing anything so rash like this again for a long time, and she knew she hadn’t done so for ages anyway. Not being yourself for once… placing your heart out of her head, felt good. Ariane smiled. Properly. Teeth and all, wet lips spread upwards. And then began to giggle. In a very un-Ariane-like way. And finally, her giggling gave way to peals of ringing laughter, bursting out of her uncontrollably. This was wrong. Criminal. But Ariane didn’t care. She just didn’t care.

[Charles Driscoll H7]

Charles took a step back and for a moment felt like he was being X-rayed; the force of Ariane's piercing gaze had hit him like a wave, mostly because it was completely unexpected. He understood that she was as curious about him as he was about her, but was at a complete loss as to why; Charles didn’t think there was much about him that was interesting, and though Ariane had treated him cordially up till this point and had probably allowed him more of herself than she did with anyone she met for the first time Charles had thought she saw in him only a companion for a short while, and yet her gaze had proved him wrong, she wanted to know him, and he wondered what it was that he had done or said that her made her felt that way. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t mind sharing with her whatever she wanted to know – and not only because he was an open person by nature who was no longer afraid of being judged, but because something told him this was a person to be trusted – even though all he knew of her was what she'd told him in this meeting. Maybe because she held so tightly onto her own secrets he assumed she did the same with the secrets of others, but he would have to ask her if they were ever to talk again. As much as Ariane was working to learn to trust Charlie, he was learning to do the opposite, and that was not tell her everything about himself in an attempt to get to know more about her.

He shuddered at the word 'criminal' and for the first time felt the sticky wetness of his clothes against his skin. He'd expected her answer, but not that word, and yet she was very vehement in her conviction. He was silent as he looked away not knowing what to say, but he told himself that it wouldn’t be the first or last time he'd encountered someone like Ariane, and yet he knew she wasn't really like Samantha entirely. She did think she had to keep herself hidden in a dark deep place where no-one could find it, and yet he didn’t think Ariane had ever lost sight of who she was or the degree of unease with who she was had ever reached the level it had in Samantha. Then what was it? It was nothing like his own shyness at showing anyone his own work; it was an overbearing protectiveness stronger than he'd expected. In the same instant that Ariane lost track of time Charles did as well as he pondered on what and how he wanted to say – something about it not having to be so hard, that one didn’t have to suffer alone nor it make anyone less for not doing so. There was so much he wanted to tell this solid armour of a person, this person with a pillar-of-strength sort of quality, but the many thoughts in his head about where to start and what to say all fell short and did not seem worthy when he weighed them in his head; her laugh had rendered them so. The tinkling sound, loud and clear as it reverberated around them, was enough to stop him; he'd have jumped in the lake before saying anything to make her stop, not that that would have made much of a difference given the drenched state he was in now.

He found himself seized once again by that the same wish before he'd first decided to take a walk outside; his wish to learn how to take a picture in the rain, except it was very much intensified in this moment as he looked upon the drenched girl who seemed so happy and liberated in this moment. The features that had at first seemed so immovable they had appeared to be set in stone were alive; so alive Charles felt his initial notion of them had been ridiculous. A stronger feeling then gradually built up inside him and all else was forgotten. Charles let it completely consume him, that thing or that feeling: he'd found it to be elusive, sometimes impossible to conjure, but the warm and cosiness floating between them now which were characteristic of it were growing stronger every minute - hope. His own laughter bubbled up out of him, mingling with Ariane's and the sound of the pouring rain – all in perfect harmony, or at least giving him the satisfaction that phrase is supposed to give.