The Zenith (Roxy)

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Since the school year had gone underway, Ambroise found himself constantly venturing towards the castle's astronomy tower. He'd also found that his reasoning behind this was not similar to the reasons of others. He had no interest in way that each star shimmered in the night sky, creating a light more subliminal than a spell ever could. He acknowledged the beauty of this nature, but the sky was something that could be seen anywhere.

The pureblood remembered a night that he'd spent in the Netherlands a couple of years back whilst he was on holiday. He recalled the multi-chrome pigmentation of the Northern Lights, dancing the waltz in a way so polished that he was sure that the lights had rehearsed beforehand.

Now that, that was the kind of sky that could put every star in the galaxy to shame. It was not the kind of natural occurrence that one could from any point in the world. People ventured to specific regions of the world just to look into the sky. That was a night sky worthy of his interest.

No, his fondness of the astronomy tower was not connected to the serenity of the night.

What made the area special was the height at which the tower stood. This was the castle's zenith, everything beneath was incomparable to the power that one held within this space. He could watch the world below as an eagle would scout out its prey, hearing nothing yet seeing everything.

He could see the girl who'd just had her heart shattered, cupping her hands over her mouth as if to say, "What did I do to deserve this?" It was probable that she'd done nothing except for be at the wrong place at the right time. Ambroise pitied her, but he also decided that she'd be of no use to him. So his eyes moved on.

The boy could do this for hours, stand in the tower and read the world as if it were his own personal novella. It reminded him that he was a superior force.

And then he heard footsteps.

Why was it that every one of his trips to the Astronomy tower had to be interrupted by someone wishing to look into the eyes of the moon and contemplate their life choices?

"Hello?" He called out. "I believe that the stars are on strike against gazers tonight. All of the wishing has tired them out." Sarcasm was not a way to strike laughter. It was a weapon to give his prey a false sense of security before they fell from the zenith.

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Ever since she came back to Hogwarts, Roxy had always found herself in the Astronamy Tower, just generally enjoying the scenery from so high up; she had always been a fan of heights and eventually that turned her into seeking some alone time at the very high tower of Hogwarts, her feet automatically leading her towards the tower that was mostly used for looking at stars. While she did enjoy watching the stars, she mostly just went there to enjoy the thrill that being high up gave her.

Making her way up the stairs, the female Ravenclaw found herself thinking on her time at home that she spent training with her father and slowly being taught the way her father managed the Förstner estate so that she wouldn't have to spend a lot of time doing it right before she took over fully.

She had been slowly also training her Dark Magic, though nothing too drastic, just enough to stop her from actually losing herself in the allure that came with all Dark Magic.

She got startled out of her thoughts by a male voice, her lips pulling into a frown and her eyebrows furrowing as she slowly opened the door to the tower and stepped inside, giving the male there a contemplative look. "I'm not here to look at the stars or wish on them." She replied dryly as she stepped towards the railing and leant over it, looking down at the grounds and watching people mingle about. "If I wanted to do that I could've asked the Room of Requirements to give me a planterium."

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Ambroise turned to examine the girl who had disrupted his concentration. She was small, perhaps a year or so younger than the Pureblood. He’d expected her to be a slender brunette with a god complex, as many of the girls he’d met this year did. She’d defend herself and tell him that his comments were unneeded and unwanted. He knew that she might even go as far as to swing her weightless fists towards his face, as a young Hufflepuff named Kimberly had done days prior.

But she did not do any of these things. Instead, the girl simply responded to Ambroise's comment, her vocalisations not feeling the need to attack his methods of speech. He wondered if, by some grace of God, he’d found a student in this school who possessed just a shard of respect.

A small smile curled his lips upwards as he listened to her explanation as to why she did not wish to gaze upon the stars. ’Is this not what I have been saying? he thought. From the first encounter in this tower, he’d wondered why every wizard or witch on this planet could not find a place other than this one area to gaze upon an anti-climactic nighttime occurrence.

“Ah,” He responded, never allowing his first reaction to be further than a single syllable. He had yet to decide if this girl was a friend or a foe, so he would not give her enough to use against him. Not yet.

Instead, he simply reworded the question that he’d asked originally.
“So if you are not here to witness the natural beauties of God’s nightly creation,” he began. “Then you must be here to find out if Vanessa has decided to give Brad a second chance, even though he had displayed affection for her older sister, Rhiannon,” He motioned to the outside world, in which two young girls were conversing in heavy concentration.

“While there has been no progression in this certain area, I personally believe that Brad has been greedy in his strategies. Do you not think that he should have simply told Vanessa that her sister was more appealing to him than she was?”

He stood before the girl smugly, awaiting her commentary on the matter. Realistically, this was not an improvisation meant to through her off guard. Ambroise had been tuning into the story of Vanessa and Brad as often as possible because there was simply not much else to do in the castle. Couples such as these were created in order to amuse people such as him. They were living soap operas.

"Or are you here for another reason?" He asked the girl, looking into the fiery red of her hair. She reminded him somewhat of a phoenix, innocent in appearance but awaiting her chance to explode. Ambroise decided that he may enjoy seeing her explode, but he was not sure yet. Perhaps he would allow the flames to develop themselves.

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Roxy didn't even flinch under the weight of her watcher's stare as she turned her own eyes towards the boy, already noting that he certainly was older than her by at least a year if not more; she couldn't remember seeing him in any of her lesson or during the sorting in the first year so she was quite sure that he wasn't in her year at least. The boy was certainly eye-catching, Roxy wouldn't deny that, but then again most boys in Hogwarts were, no matter who they were or where they were from.

Roxy couldn't really understand why people traversed the Astronomy tower to do Astronomy, you could just as well ask the Room of Requirements for a Planetarium; which would mean that you at least would be able to do the Astronomy lessons at a reasonable time and not halfway through the night when people were half-asleep and didn't get a word the Professor was saying.

Roxy wasn't entirely sure what the boy was thinking and instead just stood there and waited for him to speak, her ears focused on the boy talking next to her while her eyes were focused on the ground behind her, watching the two girls that the male pointed out; she never listened to rumours so she had no idea what exactly went on between the two sisters and the love triangle that was going on between them and Brad, not that she actually cared, as long as it didn't involve her, she didn't care what people did.

"I simply think that he's just complicating matters and making them hate each other." She commented softly as she stared down at the two girls who seemed to have evolved their hushed conversation into a shouting match that Roxy was glad she couldn't hear, it seemed that either one or the other would end up hurt should spells go flying. "Vanessa and Brad aren't really suited for each other... Or at least that's what I think anyway. Not that their relationship means anything to me; as long as I don't get involved I don't care what happens... The least they could do though is do it in private and not air their dirty laundry to the whole wide world. Who needs to know that Rhiannon is better in bed then Vanessa? I certainly don't."

The rant, because it certainly couldn't be called anything else, stopped as she watched the scenery below her, her lips quirking into an amused smile as her theory proved correct and spells did go flying; whether a girl will get hurt though was still up for debate.

"I'm just here to get away from the idiots in my dorm," Roxanne replied dryly, her lips pulling into a sneer as she thought of the other Ravenclaw girls that she shared the Fourth Year dorms with; being a Ravenclaw meant that you should, at least, have a brain but the girls that she roomed with clearly didn't as the only thing they cared about were their clothes, make-up and boys, leaving their grades to suffer, which showed in the lessons and exams.

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As the girl’s eyes met his, Ambroise could feel the inflation of his own ego. He was sure that his physique had captivated her, as it did most. Girls were often drawn to him, not only because of his impressive physical condition but because of the maturity that he displayed through his clothing choices. Since birth, it had been burnt into the Pureblood’s mind that the way to a woman was through the threads that one used to adorn their body. Potato sacks and scrubs were not enough to appease a woman’s need for exploration. Women were drawn to appearance as young wizards were drawn to Christmas gifts; whichever looked the more expensive was the most desired choice.

Ambroise listened intently whilst the girl described her interpretation of the argument progressing on the grounds. She’d commented on the complexity of the situation, mentioning that prolonging the argument would only cause the siblings to hate each other further. He respected her way of thinking, how she seemed to process the facts without involving a large quantity of the emotions. She’d make a decent lawyer, perhaps. Despite his respect for her theory, Ambroise almost immediately came to the conclusion that she was wrong.

“They will not hate each other,” he informed her, leaving no room between breaths for her to interject.
“They will argue, scream, and perhaps even engage in physical contact. Maybe they will even isolate each other for years to come, but this single conflict will not be the end of Vanessa and Rhiannon. If anything, I am sure that they will one day return to Brad only to make sure that the remainder of his life was as miserable as he’d made this moment to be.”

There was no experience behind this theory. The male was the sole child of his family, so he’d never fought with a sibling as Rhiannon and Vanessa had. But for some reason, he knew that his words were true.

“And sometimes,” he added. “Dirty laundry must be aired to the public. Not because they must take part in it or even care about the details, but because sometimes having an audience makes a problem easier to solve for oneself. Though I am a firm believer that attention must be earned, not forced out of an unknowing audience as the result of a dramatic uproar.”

Next thing he knew, Vanessa and Rhiannon appeared to be trying to kill one another. Spells flew from person to person, each one building up to a final explosion. The dainty blonde, whom he had assumed was Rhiannon, went flying backward as the result of her sister’s counter attack. The witch landed only inches before she would have crashed skull first into a wall. Vanessa screamed, rushing over straight away to make sure that her sister was alright.

Ambroise did not announce that he was right, though his smile did seem to brighten just a bit.

As the girl explained her reason for coming up to the tower, Ambroise nodded. He understood the concept of pesky roommates, seeing as his were of no higher maturity than one would expect a group of sixteen-year-old males to be. The Slytherin quarters often smelt of testosterone and firewhisky. No further explanation needed, it was not an atmosphere in which Ambroise wanted to be a frequent visitor.

“But why did you decide to come to this one place?” He questioned, each word meant to dig into her consciousness and make her reconfigure her intentions. “It is a rather large castle.”

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Roxy for some reason had this feeling that the male suddenly felt as proud as a peacock when she met the older teenager's eyes and that thought just made her lips quirk into an amused smirk, her arms casually crossed against her chest as she eyed the boy with curiosity; she had rarely found herself drawn to boys, only really having the occasional puppy crush that didn't last any longer than a couple of weeks, she ignored the voice in her head that reminded her of the two year long crush she had on Christopher Richardson, a fellow Ravenclaw and a fellow Quidditch player that she had literally seen pretty much naked every time they had Quidditch practice.

She never went for a boy's looks, those may seem appealing but what she enjoyed the most in a guy was an intelligent mind and a sharp tongue; she didn't want a boy who was only beautiful on the outside and superficial on the inside, unable to actually get an interesting conversation going. That was probably the reason why she had crushed on Chris for so long even though he was engaged to be married; he had been a good friend and he could hold conversations for hours on end that didn't bore Roxy at all.

Turning her mind back to the conversation at hand, she listened to her fellow student, humming in places and nodding her head at his argument. "I... suppose that's true. Though I can't say considering I have no siblings to argue with." She murmured softly, placing her chin in her hand as she leant against the railing, her eyes focused on the fight below them before her lips quirked into a soft smile as she witnessed the frantic way that Vanessa ran towards her sister, clearly worried for her safety.

"...Don't get smug." She told him with a bit of amusement colouring her voice as if she could read his thoughts on that matter at hand. "It doesn't look attractive on such a pretty face like yours." Even though he certainly didn't look too smug, Roxy could tell from his smile that he was happy about the outcome.

"I'm... what you call, an adrenaline junkie." She replied to his question, not letting him spin her around his finger to answer questions the way he probably wanted them answered. "I enjoy heights and just being this high up makes me feel like I'm free from all expectations and worries."

It's pretty much why she was a Quidditch player as well; sure she loved the sport but more importantly, she just loved the way that flying made her feel.

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Ambroise paid close attention to the girl whilst she watched the story below them unfold, her mouth curling slightly upwards as Vanessa and Rhiannon made amends with one another. It was touching, really, the way that they cherished their friendship more than their romantic desires. A part of him envied the bond that siblings shared, though the envy was not enough to keep him awake at night. He simply figured that it must be nice to fall asleep at night knowing that he’d always have a person to confide in.

Her next comment was rich, resulting in a smile that shone throughout the Pureblood’s lips. Ambroise had been told that his lips were as addictive to a woman as an infinite supply of chocolate cake would be; completely and utterly irresistible. He would not blame her if the girl began to yearn for his lips as soon as her eyes caught glimpse of his smile. But the boy’s lips had vowed to never meet those of a woman whom he’d just met.

“You think I’m pretty?” He asked her. Content shone through his eyes in order to inform the girl that he had already known the answer. Of course she thought he was pretty. Who wouldn’t?
“I knew that I had chosen the proper day to wear those fake eyelashes that my mother gave me over the holidays,” he told her only half jokingly. He well enough knew that his mother had always hoped for a precious pureblood daughter whom she could dress up like the doll that she’d never been given as a child. She’d even once asked him if he’d be willing to become a drag queen just to fulfill her lifelong fantasy of helping her little girl get ready for her first ball. While he’d found the idea rather amusing, Ambroise had denied her request.

He also understood the phoenix’s need for an adrenaline rush. The boy had never been one to deny the opportunity for an adventure. He enjoyed the concept of being so close to a flame that the warmth from the light shone on one’s face, almost burning into his skin but not quite being close enough to do so. Ambroise would never intentionally put himself in a situation in which there’d be any genuine chance of his demise, but it was the idea of escaping the brink of danger that he found thrilling.

“Good answer,” he told her genuinely. “You could not begin to predict how many young Hufflepuffs have ventured up here simply to gaze at the stars or smell the grass at night time. Does the grass smell any different in the darkness as it does in the daylight? Because if so, I have yet to notice.”

“Personally,” Ambroise continued, “I am here for the sensation of witnessing moments in the lives of people whom I have never met, such as Vanessa and Rhiannon. There is simply something about glimpsing into such raw occurrences of the heart that is more genuine that even theatre could ever be.”

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The scene of Rhiannon and Vanessa make amends with one another was pretty touching, sure, but what got Roxy amused was the lone boy who was literally gaping at the two girls from afar, as if he couldn't comprehend that they had gotten over their little spat. Boys like that irked Roxy and her hand itched for her wand so that she could hex him with the impotence hex. A fitting hex for a guy like Brad, she figured.

The smile on the wizard's lips was delectable, there was no denying that, however, that smile actually made Roxy roll her eyes and chuckle in amusement, as if she could see what thoughts were running through the male's mind; sometimes boys were so predictable that it was a wonder how they kept any secret.

"You'd be even better looking if you got rid of that smug tone of voice and look." She replied dryly, amused with his words. She had a feeling that the words of his mother giving him fake eyelashes weren't said in an entirely joking manner. She probably wouldn't know if he meant that fully or not but she had no plans on even figuring that out. "It makes you look as if you're bragging about something that you may not have."

Roxy had always loved the thrill that falling from great heights gave her, so much that the first time she actually dived on her broom from pretty much fifty feet in their air, her father nearly got a heart attack because she had been going at such break-neck speeds that had her broom been an older model she probably would've plummeted to her death.

"Grass doesn't smell any different at night-time." She replied automatically to his question even though she knew that said question didn't really require an answer; it was obvious that grass smelt no different at night to what it smelt like in the morning.

"..." Roxanne peered at Ambroise through her fringe for a few seconds before soft chuckles escaped from her lips. "You should be careful then lest you get pulled into one of those moments."

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The witch's comments on his appearance only became more enjoyable as she continued to argue his arrogance. Ambroise wondered if she noticed the grave that she'd been digging for herself. Perhaps she was oblivious to the fact that every piece of her argument only fueled the smugness to which she was referring.

"Do you really think so little of me," the pureblood began, his face purposely demonstrating the false shock that he'd felt towards her words. "That you would accuse me of referring to features of my being that do not exist? I am sincerely offended that you would assume such a thing."

"Some men may feel the need to overcompensate for what they may not have," he told her, the substance of his eyes ever-so-slightly motioning downward.
"I can assure you," Ambroise smiled. "I only boast about authentic characteristics of my being."

As for the scent of grass in the daytime versus the night, Ambroise had not expected the girl to comment on the rhetorical. It then came into his mind that grass may change scents with the creation and evaporation of the morning dew. Perhaps this played a part in the appeal of said grass, but he chose to not linger on the subject of grass. It was quite monotonous, really.

"Careful has never been an adjective that has been used to describe my person," he remarked. "Calculative? Very much so. But I prefer to see where my pure will takes me. It is a much more authentic life, no?" he asked, further leaning his attention towards the world below. Vanessa and Rhiannon had disappeared now. He smiled.

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"I don't think so little of you..." Roxanne said in amusement, her head tilted backwards as she stared at the taller male, her eyes focused on his face as she wondered just who this boy was exactly; they hadn't introduced themselves yet but Roxy was already enjoying being around this boy. "And I don't think that you are referring to features that you don't have."

"And you are not one of those I take it then." The woman sniffed with a teasing lilt in her voice, her cheeks flushed a tiny bit as the bantering between them got more and more amusing by the minute. "I wouldn't know anything about you boasting about authentic characteristics."

Roxy arched a brow at those words, humming softly at that as she tried to collect the right words to answer that question, her fingers tapping a nameless tune on her thigh. "I suppose I can agree there." She commented softly, slowly as she turned her head to face the male.

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