Sarah had smiled, "Yeah a pep talk would be helpful I don't even know how to tell if a boy likes me!"

"How do you know?" asked Branwen with a smile, "Look just let me know when you're free then."

Sarah had smiled and said "OK" and then Raphael had come over and said he needed to talk to her. They went outside the Great Hall.

"Anyway you wanted a private word before we headed to the Common Room?" said Sarah stating the obvious.

"Er... Sarah... look... um..." Raphael suddenly looks pensive. "Er... you sure you want to teach me broomstick stuff tomorrow?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I? I enjoy flying and I like spending time with you."

"I just thought... oh, damn... I just thought..." he trailed off.

"You thought...what?" she trailed off.

"You've just been... er... I didn't mean to get weird."

"Weird?" she smiled. "I can handle weird."

"Yeah," he said, unhappily. "But... are you really okay?"

"Yeah, I'm cool." she said.

For a second, he debated... "then... what was all that with Branwen? I mean... I didn't scare you or anything... did I?"

"Oh that", Sarah was embarrassed. "Branwen was just trying to boost my confidence a little. You did mean when we were talking just now?"

"er... yeah," he said, softly. "...boost your... confidence?"

Sarah realised that she had just entered dangerous territory.

"Sometimes I tend to be a little down on myself. Think I'm a bit too weird to have friends you know?" She smiled, "Branwen as you probably can tell is very confident about herself."

Sarah thought to herself, *which is why boys line up to date her.*

Without thinking, Raphael slipped his hand into Sarah's, suddenly relaxed. Was that all? he thought to himself. "Yeah." he said noncommittally.

"Cheer up, old thing," he said, grinning at her. Thinking to himself, Raphael asked himself: how thick could I be? she thought I was being weird to her!

"OK, I will" she said smiling.

"We're friends. And I know... are you really that tired tonight?" he asked.

"Why? You want to explore or something?"

Grinning at Sarah, Raphael said to her: "let's go get Nathaniel. When I make a fool of myself I only want you two there, okay?"

"OK, let's go get him!" she said with enthusiasm.

Raphael leads Sarah back into the Hall, still with her hand in his... and she didn't protest in the slightest. She had held hands with Nathaniel earlier so in her mind it was parity.

Walking back into the hall, hand in hand and slightly leading Sarah, Raphael quickly approached the Ravenclaw table. After a quick chat with Sarah... one that had left him both embarrassed and relieved... what a stupid thing... he suddenly needed to, er... 'talk', supplied his mind... to Nathaniel. Right. Okay, he thought. Easy.

Except for the crowd of Ravenclaws still around. That could cause a problem. Zidane... Kathryn... a few others, like Jacob... and Nathaniel in the middle finishing his dinner. Difficult.

Strategies flashed through Raphael's mind. It couldn't be to go to the dorm, because then they'd have to show Zidane up there. And he didn't want to offend anyone. But on what pretence could he ask for Nathaniel and Nathaniel alone? 'I'm not clever enough for this,' thought Raphael to himself. 'I bet the old man'd come up with a scheme.'

Everyone was looking at him: he'd dropped Sarah's hand and leant on the table... too businesslike, too forward... think of something to say, think of something to say!

He cleared his throat. "Er... hi all. Um... Nathaniel... you know you were saying about..." his mind blanked for a second. What was he saying about? "Er... juggling." Phew, relief! But... what now? "Well..." he continued, "Sarah's found a set of juggling balls... and... er... we wanted you to come and tell us if they'd do if, um, we wanted to learn."

Sarah just stooped there with a slightly wicked grin on her face while this interchange was going on between Raphael and Nathaniel. She sort of had an idea what Raphael had in mind.

She turned to Kat, "Don't worry I'll make sure the boys get up to the Common Room at a decent time if you want to head that way with Zidane and the First Years."

Kat watched Sarah disappear a little worried about the fact that they were wondering off so late. Sarah should have known better than to wander off when they were supposed to be heading for bed. Kat didn't want to start the year with points lost because someone like Snape had caught them not in their common rooms at the required time.

Still there was nothing she could do to stop them. "Make sure you are back before curfew!" she called after them.

She turned to Zidane. "Well I better show you to the dorm. The feast is just about over and I need to make sure everyone knows where they are going and how to get in." She looked at the gathered first years at the end of the table. "I need to make sure they know too..."

Nimue smiled at Kat. "I am sure Sarah is smart enough to know that Snape is bound to be the prowl tonight. Plus, there is a while yet until curfew and the doors are locked."

She looked over at the Gryffindor table. "I guess I'd better think about gathering my little band as well and get them off to Gryffindor Tower to get settled in. I haven't seen Mahou Amberstone anywhere. Have you? I do hope she didn't get lost."

Nimue then said goodnight to Kat and the other Ravenclaws before heading to the Gryffindor table to collect Jian, Amy and those First Years who hadn't already gone up with Jon Sinclair.

**********

Sarah and Raphael vanished together, but Nathaniel hardly noticed. He was having difficulty with the tableware. In particular, he was having difficulty getting the right dessert. He'd adapted quite quickly to the fact that the tableware produced the food he most desired to eat, and after a couple of false starts where the platters in front of him produced baked liver and onions, and then an entire tureen of sausage stew; he'd ended up with the desired teppen fried noodles and chicken and duck stirfry.

In actual fact, he'd been thinking something along the lines of pork stirfry but the kitten in his billowing sleeve had also been looking intently at the platter at the time so Nathaniel didn't like to send it back and try again. Close was good enough in this particular instance, and the kitten didn't have any complaints about the mouthfuls of succulent chicken and duck it kept getting throughout the meal.

Most of the conversation had happened without Nathaniel's contribution, due to the combined facts that he was suddenly and chronically hungry, the kitten wasn't supposed to be at table and so he had to be slightly surreptitious about feeding it, and the chopsticks he was using kept trying to turn themselves into miniature alligators.

Thusly his average rate of eating was slightly less than Raphael's, who seemed determined to eat something of everything on the table, including the pot of mystery meat that someone had accidentally conjured in a vague reminiscence (or was it a nightmare?) of school lunches in the Muggle world.

By the time he'd thankfully got rid of the chopsticks with the identity crisis and got to the wishing for dessert stage, his concentration seemed to have wavered somewhat. He got in rapid succession: a tureen of chili con carne; an entire breakfast platter of eggs, bacon, mushrooms, sausages, black pudding, hash browns and fried tomatoes; chocolate ice cream that practically screamed MIGRAINE at him; and finally (and he was certain that the kitten had something to do with this) a tureen of king prawns in anchovy sauce. When he DID get the fruit salad he was wishing for, it was singing a Hawaii chant at him, and whether he was a wizard-in-training or not, Nathaniel drew the line at eating something that was still voluble.

When Raphael and Sarah returned, he'd just managed to get himself an orange and was wiping the orange juice from his fingers. The kitten in his sleeve had curled up happily and was purring a somewhat rusty purr that kept getting Nathaniel some strange looks from people who hadn't noticed the kitten in his sleeve.

Raphael dropped Sarah's hand and leant on the table, cleared his throat and began to speak... "Er... hi all. Um... Nathaniel... you know you were saying about... Er... juggling."

Nathaniel tried not to wince. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to know about his contact juggling. Up until the Hogwarts Express, only he had known about it. Sarah and Raphael might not realise it but they had been his first ever audience.

"Well..." Raphael continued, blithely unaware, "Sarah's found a set of juggling balls... and... er... we wanted you to come and tell us if they'd do if, um, we wanted to learn."

Nathaniel got up quickly before other people started asking questions. The kitten scampered up out of his sleeve and found itself a pocket to curl in, sleepily full. If he'd been any more confident about himself, he might very well have commented that at that given moment in time he was carrying about six contact juggling balls of varying sizes and substances, but he wasn't, so he didn't.

"Yeah, sure." he mumbled instead, and waited for one or both of his friends to lead the way.

Out in the corridor it was Raphael's turn to wince. "Gods," he said, repeatedly banging his head on his palm, "'would these balls do?'" he said in a crass impersonation of himself. It didn't do much to improve his headache, which he'd neglected to mention to Sarah just how bad it had become, but... luckily a certain vision of late-night flying managed to push any idea of 'getting an early night' right out of his mind.

He stopped aggravating his head when he realised the expression on Nathaniel's face. It wasn't a bad expression, exactly: more like a generic dourness that Raphael remembered from when he'd caught the guy in the face with a glass of water. Acceptance. Slight darkening and... was there a frown there? It seemed to Raphael that Nathaniel had the most amazing frowns: the guy could achieve easily what it'd take a day of custard pie jokes to get with a normal person. Looking at the expression with consternation, Raphael betted with himself that he'd be able to remove it by the end of the night. It just would be a bit of a challenge that was all.

"Right," Raphael said, rolling his 'r's and assuming his most serious expression, which he wasn't totally aware was like someone had hung lead weights from his eyebrows: it was so forced he consistently never managed to keep it up for more then a second or two. "Sarah Taverner and I," he told Nathaniel, "have come up with a plan. A 'plan'," Raphael said, adding to the emphasis with a hasty 'okay' sign. "We're gonna go have some flying lessons. But only after I write my name down on the list for trying out for the Quidditch squad," Raphael said, looking around and finding it immediately on a noticeboard nearby.

So while writing his name under everything he could find (and then hastily removing it from under the "cheerleader" category) Raphael told Nathaniel: "Sarah is our official pathfinder in this little expedition. Just when I remember how to write," said Raphael, for the third time cracking his knuckled under the unfamiliar strain of actually holding anything vaguely pen or quill like, "she is going to lead us two adventurers to the, er, broomstick closet."

Sarah had giggled almost to the point of falling on the floor when Raphael had put his name down under 'cheerleader'.

"Well that would be most interesting Raphael and the wizarding world is very big on equality between the genders and I am sure none of the girl players would complain one bit at the show of support."

She grinned about leading them, "It's a broom shed not a broom closet and it's situated out by the Quidditch field. You might as well practice on a school broom as that is what the trials are on rather than a fancy model."

"If they're globular and not made out of lead, I can juggle pretty much anything." Nathaniel said, somewhat dryly, as he leant past Raphael and scrawled an ungainly 'N Greenleigh' here and there on the board. "There, I'm nothing if not optimistic. Now I'd better be able to get one of these broomsticks off the ground."

He looked at Sarah with a grin that didn't quite reach his green eyes. "Lead on, brave witch."

"Grab your cloaks as it might be a wee bit chilly out there." she said with a smile that did reach her eyes after putting her name down for things including cheerleader. "Oh course, we cannot be seen and we'll have to make sure we are not followed - so it'll be 'sneaking time'." She winked at them, grabbed her cloak from a peg in the hall and headed towards a side door beckoning them to follow.

He decided as they were stalking towards the side door to the cold outside, where dampness and darkness was ruling, that he had to do something drastic. Something life altering. Something that would deem the situation safe in his opinion.

Sarah, after all was right: they shouldn't be sneaking around after dark, and they certainly probably shouldn't be striking the broomshed for a bit of midnight flying action: it was probably in violation of a million school night-time prohibition rules. He didn't know of course - schools and especially their type of rules not being his strong point - but it seemed to be logical.

So, stealth and quick movement was on the agenda. Hmm. Drastic action, drastic action. Peering left and right, Raphael skidded ahead of the others towards the door, unlatched it silently, and slipped out, a shadow, into the damp dew beyond.

Then, skidding around a small corner of the castle triumphantly, Raphael brandished his smooth wand like a gun, did a quick look-left-look-right James Bond action, threw himself back towards the door, slipped and fell face first onto the wet grass. "So much for stealth," he commented through the door to Sarah and Nathaniel, grinning away.

Nathaniel prowled out into the gloom. He liked the dark, and it seemed the dark liked him. The shadows welcomed in the boy in the black robe, with the long black hair that swayed in his face. "Poser." he commented acidly to Raphael.

Raphael stood in the darkness and grinned at Nathaniel. "Dirty old man," was his only comment to the striking figure that Nathaniel made, a smile taking over his face.

The darkness also welcomed Sarah, she was quite used to moving quietly in the dark. This wouldn't be the first time she had gone out into the night though she preferred the darkness of the underground.

With a grin she offered Raphael a hand up and hoped he hadn't got too soppy wet on the wet grass.

"Come on" she said to them, "we now have to cross a very exposed bit of the grounds so keep the horseplay to a minimum. Time enough for that!"

She then led the way over the grounds to the Quidditch field and the broom shed.

It was then that Sarah started leading them across to the field, the darkness of night swallowing the other two - and then swallowing him.

He could feel the darkness around him, comforting, another cloak, almost... like in the darkness he could truly pull around himself a shield. Glancing back at the castle, he could see the dark form of the Forbidden Forest. He'd never been a creature of darkness... before... he could almost hear splashing water and he knew that he was pulling a pair of midnight oil black wings around himself to be one with the darkness.

It was a good feeling, and like the other two, Raphael blended into the night.

Soon they were there: the Quidditch field. Raphael, looking around him, saw the stands, the huge hoops, and... where was the broomstick closet? "Sarah...?" he prompted.

"It's that shed...over there." Sarah indicated the small building standing to the side of the field. She wondered if it would be locked or not.

She went over to it and tried the door. Of course, it was - well now there was a choice. They would undoubtedly be in more serious trouble if they broke into the locked broom shed than if she summoned her own broom from Ravenclaw Dorm where undoubtedly it had been taken by those House elves who had seen to their belongings.

Therefore, she took out her wand and focused her mind upon her beloved Nimbus, "Accio Nimbus!" she said clearly.....positive that in a minute or so it would respond to the summons and hoping its leaving the dorm under its own steam wouldn't cause too much of a sensation.

********

Piotr had taken a wrong turning somewhere. Perhaps it was because he was no longer relying on his eyes to guide him, but instead his heightened senses. For all the use his eyes were this far into the Thirst, he may as well have had them tightly shut.

The castle loomed somewhere in his night vision as a red area of warmth. The Thirst had been sated a little by his earlier venture in the Forest, but he was still shaking slightly as he happened across the three on the Quidditch pitch.

One of the scents was very familiar. There was something...unusual about it. Something he'd noticed the minute he'd met her. Sarah.

He stood for a few moments at the edges of the pitch, trying to orient himself to the castle and began running lightly in what he believed was the correct direction. The heat emanating from the stones of the castle were beckoning him enticingly – // come in, come in and take your potion. End the torment. //

"I'm coming," he murmured.

*What in the world* thought Sarah spotting Piotr standing at the edge of the pitch.

She didn't want to call out to him in case the sound carried too far. What was it with him? He always seemed to be on the edge of things and she reckoned that there was a certain curiosity in him.

Therefore, she waved at him and wondered if he'd come over and join them or just take off. She figured most probably the latter but she thought it was prudent to make sure that he knew that they knew he was there.

It seemed, in fact, that he was running in circles, as he came to a halt, his breathing dry in his chest, right back where he started.

He could still recognise Sarah's scent, but he was aware of two others with her. Reluctant to do it, he let his senses guide him. Male. Young. Probably fellow Ravenclaws, he reasoned.

He opened his mouth to address her, but felt a sudden shift in the air around him as Sarah's broomstick came shooting past his right ear, sending him flinging himself to the ground with a yell of panic.

********

Branwen had watched as everyone began to slope off to their common rooms and with a quick glance at her watch she made up her mind. If she was very quick, and more than a little discreet, she could squeeze in a swift flight and check on the local residents. It was far too important to wait till morning anyway, she told herself as she made her way quickly to the Ravenclaw dorm, carefully folded her clothes and flapped out of the window.

She knew this was very risky, but she couldn't help herself and besides, she had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that Randal didn't want to see her tonight anyway. As she made a pass across the front of the Owlery, she called to Vanya and the faithful Barn Owl soon joined her, hopeful of a hunt but glad of the flight.

The weather was wonderful for flying, more than making up for the change in Raven habit, she should be roosting not soaring but this was irresistible. She climbed so that prying eyes wouldn't spot her, and Vanya followed, but through the gloom she could see Sarah, and some boys she barely recognised...of course, the new friends that Sarah had made, well she was certainly making an impression of some sort on them. Branwen made a note of it, and wondered if Sarah realised how popular she was becoming.

She couldn't resist circling over the Quidditch field for a little while, taking in the scene and wondering how these new boys would take to flying. Brooms...far too complicated and cumbersome, it had to be satin black wings everytime...

********

It was Raphael that made the leap for the broomstick first. Of course, Sarah had probably enchanted it so that it'd come straight to her, and slow down, but saying that... it was going like the hammers and, like a dog, Raphael's instinct was to run and grab before thinking. The yell that'd come from the dark was ominous, being that he hadn't been expecting it: he'd been too busy looking into the gloom to notice the less-then-gloom bit that, now he saw mid leap just who'd shrieked, had probably been stalking them.

Piotr Rachinov. As he caught the broom and spun to face Piotr, he had a sudden desire to snarl: 'Rachmaninov.' It wasn't the... guys... name, but it was rather snarlable. His brain, in a complicated gesture, did it's best to scold him for thinking unuseful thoughts.

Think of something to say, then. "Come to join us for a bit of flight practice?" asked Raphael, without thinking. What a stupid question. Maybe his brain was trying to tell him something without doing all that tedious telling-him thing.

The broom did break away from Raphael. "Argghhhh" said Sarah catching the broom in one hand, tossing it to the ground and sprinting very quickly over to where Piotr had flung himself down - almost in one seamless movement.

"Gawds Piotr I'm really sorry about that! With it being so dark I wasn't quite sure what trajectory it was on. Are you OK?"

Piotr remained where he was for a few seconds, inhaling the slightly damp grass and trying to steady his panicked breathing. Slowly, slowly he unfurled and stood up, turning in the direction of Sarah's voice. He kept his head lowered, not wanting her to see his eyes.

"No," he said, in answer to Raphael's question. "I don't want to stay. I want to go indoors. But I am lost. Can you help me find my way back inside?"

There was a desperation in his voice that was quite unnerving coming from the usually cool Slytherin. Desperation and...terror? He remained facing Sarah and reached out a hand and gripped her arm. "Please, Sarah. Help me find my way back to the school. My...potion...I have to take it soon...very soon...."

"Of course, Piotr." said Sarah giving him some support.

She looked over to Raphael and Nathaniel. "I'll be back soon. The broom will respond to your hand if you want to give it a go. Just pretend it's a hobby-horse but don't urge it into the air until I return." She didn't think they'd get into too much trouble.

She turned back to Piotr. "Come on then. It's not that far."