the morning airr. // open.

[Mackenzie Spencer]

As Mackenzie pushed open the two large oak doors, a cold breeze hit her tanned skin and she closed her eyes briefly. She stepped out onto the stone steps and the doors slammed closed behind her, and the sound echoed throughout the castle. Breathing in a deep breath of the crisp morning air she smiled happily to herself and looked around at her surroundings. The grass was a fresh green color, the sky was a night soft blue with a few white clouds floating slowly past. It was cold, but it looked so beautiful at this time. God, how she adored the mornings! The only thing that could possibly ruin the picture was the forbidden forest in the near distance. Frowning she shook her head and walked down the stone steps until she reached the gravel path.

Now she wasn't to sure about what she wanted to do. It was around eight thirty and the whole school grounds were quite. Most people were in the hall eaten their breakfast, but Mackenzie had eaten two pieces of toast and now she wanted a walk in the grounds or maybe she could get her broom? Walking down the gravel path she decided to go to the qudditch pitch. Pointing her wand she smiled, "Accio Broom." There was a gust of wind as her broom hovered beside her. Swinging her leg over her broom she took off and her hair fell over her shoulder. Soon enough she was hovering in the middle of the pitch. She circled the pitch for a while before stopping on the ground and adjusted her clothes.

[James Potter]

James was never one for getting up in the early hours of the morning after a late night... No, rather he was one for pulling all nighters to examine what precise effect this happened to have on his mental state. He wasn't one for experimentation in that sense but rather enjoyed the feeling of letting go of his senses and running with whatever happened. Therefore, after having spent the whole night wandering the castle, marauder's map in hand, he now made his way outside into the cool breeze of the Grounds. He held his broomstick over his right shoulder as he half skipped towards the Quidditch pitch. It was just one of the side effects of having been awake for over 24 hours. Eventually he would crash but for the moment his eccentric and cheerful demeanor was enough to keep him happy the energy from being over tired allowing him to run around as though he had just eaten a whole pack of Honeydukes sugar quills.

He reached the pitch after what seemed like an age to him with his impatience only to see that he was not actually alone in his thoughts of going out for an early morning fly. There was a female Ravenclaw hovering in the middle of the pitch. James threw his broomstick down on the ground in something of a huff then immediately picked it up once again, apologising to the inanimate object. The other student was now soaring around the pitch at rather a swift pace proving that her broomstick was not necessarily a poor one but rather a fairly decent make, just as his was. The Firebolt company had managed to produce the best brooms so far, outstripping many of their competitors. This was the make of his broom. It was not the most recently created Firebolt but it was still a fairly swift broom.

He hopped onto the broom and kicked off the ground soaring above the pitch driving his broom as though he were a drunkard. Not really. But he was certainly not flying straight, swerving and doing loops above the level at which the Ravenclaw was flying. He didn't want to get in her way, at least for the moment anyway. So he was simply going to fly around and do a couple of tricks until he happened to fall asleep and fall from the broomstick with the hopes that someone might be there to catch him. Truth was, with the wind whipping his face there was no actual way he could fall asleep but then he was James Potter. Defying all laws of nature with his insanity.