reach for the sky;;open

[francesca victoria thomas]

"I wanna have the same last dream again

the one where i wake up & i'm alive"

Frankie stared down at the old, battered broom that was laying lifeless on the patched grass and pressed her mouth into a hard line. Her expression was an odd mix of fear and determination and it had been since she‘d sat down ten minutes ago. It was around ten at night and the Gryffindor was currently sat in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, the only company with her being the broom. Which is why she’d come out past curfew, because she didn’t want anyone around to see her fail completely at flying. The brunette shook her head. No, she had to push any negative thoughts from her mind. She wouldn’t fail. Tonight was going to be the night.

This was the fourth night in the past four weeks that Frankie had come to the Quidditch pitch with the intentions of flying. She hadn't managed it the last three times. The first two nights she'd simply sat there staring at her broom, reliving the incident from which she'd gained her fear of not only flying but thunder and lightning too. The memory began to tickle at the edges of her mind so Frankie closed her eyes and forced the it back. Remembering that awful day was obviously not helping, it simply fueled her fear.

“You can do this Frankie. It’s only a stupid broom. Just pick it up, sit on it and fly the bloody thing.” Standing abruptly, Frankie grabbed the broom from the ground and stepped over it so that it was between her legs. “Okay, okay. First step done. Now just ease yourself into the air..” There was a long and empty silence in which Frankie did not ease herself into the air but continued to stand, with the broom between her legs, motionless. Three minutes, which felt more like thirty, passed before Frankie growled in frustration and dropped the broom. This was so embarrassing it was unreal.

“First years can fly and I can’t even get off the ground!” she yelled into the cold air and threw up her arms in frustration. Dropping back onto her bum, Frankie lifted her legs, wrapped her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees. “Guess I won’t be flying tonight…” she mumbled to herself and frowned at the broom.

[dean christopher cattermole]

Dean Christopher was taking a walk around the grounds, which he normally did when he had trouble falling asleep. But on nights like tonight, when he was especially upset about something, his feet made their way to the Qudditch pitch, the only place where DC truly felt at ease. Something about the fields made he think about when he was young, when the expectations of his family weren't a huge pressure, and he could think freely for himself.

He thought he was alone tonight, like every other night, but was mistaken as he watched from the sidelines as a girl struggled with the old, beat up broomstick. He knew exactly who it was, his slighty younger cousin Frankie, although he didn't really associate himself with her. After watching struggle with the broom for a few minutes, chuckling at her attempts to lift the thing off the ground, he was going to call out for her...but then decided to let her figure it out. Why didn't she just ask for help? he found himself thinking, even though he knew perfectly well that not everyone was a natural at Quidditch like he was. And maybe it was a pride thing, something he understood all too well.

He knew that he would eventually have to walk away or talk to her, seeing as how it would be creepy just watching her. For a moment, DC wanted very badly to go out from the shadows and help her. Maybe that was his protectiveness coming out, wanting to help ease the pain for her, or maybe he did care, and wanted to show her how it was done. However, he knew that he couldn't just stand there, watching the girl's desperate attempts to fly.
He cleared his throat, so he wouldn't scare her when he started talking. Hey Franks! Do you need some help?

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[francesca victoria thomas]

Frankie twirled a piece of hair around her index finger, her dark brown eyes staring off across the field. She really couldn’t understand how her fear had gotten so bad. Well.. maybe she did. Having your broom struck by lightning during a storm can do that to person. The brunette shivered at the memory and dropped her hand from her hair.

When a quiet cough sounded someway from behind, Frankie quickly turned to her head to see non other than her cousin Dean coming towards her. “Uh.. Hey Dean.” She offered him a smile. How long had he been out here? Frankie really hoped he hadn’t seen her failed attempts at trying to fly. He probably had though if his offer of help was anything to go by. Well great, this wasn’t completely embarrassing at all. Frankie really wanted to bury her face in her hands. Unable to keep up her smile any longer, Frankie dropped her face to stare back at the broom, she didn’t want Dean seeing her looking completely morbid over the fact that she can’t fly. He’d no doubt think she was a little pathetic. Maybe she was.

“Umm..” Frankie chewed on her lower lip at his offer. Of course she’d thought about asking someone for help before. Heck, Erinn would’ve been a great person to turn to. Her sister was a great flyer and she was on the Gryffindor team. It was almost a no-brainer. Except this was a big deal for Frankie and failing at it in front of other people would be completely embarrassing. Not only that but Frankie had always been the kind of girl who dealt with her problems on her own. She figured other people had their own bigger problems to deal with than having to worry about teaching her how to fly. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask for some help. It’s not like she was getting anywhere on her own.

“Maybe, you could give me some pointers?” She asked a little sheepishly. Dean was here after all and offering help. Besides Frankie knew that he was a pretty good flyer himself, he was the Keeper for the Ravenclaw house and pretty damn good from what she’d seen and heard. “Or something?”

[dean christopher cattermole]

Looking at his cousin, DC couldn't help but to feel bad that he caught her at an embarrassing time. It was understandable why she didn't want anyone to see her attempting to fly again, considering the accident she had four years ago. But just like he was at the hospital almost every day, checking up on her and bring her various "Get Well" gifts, DC would be with her every step of the way now. I'll definitely help you. And don't worry, I won't let you fall. He flashed a grin at her, to ensure that she felt at ease and to show his sincerity.

Closing the rest of the distance between them, DC looked down to find the ratter broom she was attempting to ride on. In order for you to feel confident riding, you need to trust your broom. And at the moment, I'm not even sure I would trust riding that broom. The broom looked like it went through years of wear and abuse, and no way was he going to let Frankie ride it. Accio, booms. He put major emphasis on the s so both of his brooms would come. There was no better way to teach someone how to ride a broom then to play a little friendly game of Quidditch.

When both brooms came, he gave the older Firebolt to Frankie, keeping the one he just bought to himself. He wasn't trying to be mean, considering he could just buy a new one if she damaged the broom, but the newer one needed extreme skill to even lift off the ground. He glanced over at Frankie. Okay, are you ready for this? It's okay if you aren't, I don't want to rush you into something you aren't ready for. And just so you know, if you feel uncomfortable at anytime, we can stop. I completely understand. He nodded towards the girl, and motioned for her to follow his actions.

With both feet planted firmly on the ground, his hands gripping the end of the boom, Dean Christopher glanced over to see if Frankie was following. He nodded at her, and shouted a few words of encouragement. Good you're doing great! Now this is the hard part, but I promise, I won't let anything happen. Push gently but firmly off the ground, and let the broom do the rest. This sounds weird, but if you imagine the broom as an extension of yourself, you'll get off the ground. Now try it.

He felt his breath catch in his throat, because he seriously hoped that Frankie would be able to get off the ground. He knew he was doing a terrible job at teaching her, simply because flying came natural to him. And she was a pretty great flyer herself, because they used to play amateur Qudditch together when they were younger. But when the lightning threw Frankie off her broom, it was as if the girl forgot everything she knew. It's okay Frankie, you've got this! He smiled again, to show he wouldn't give up, wouldn't let her give up. No, tonight she would be flying.

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