Heads Up In The Clouds | Vera [FINISHED]

butterflies around the flame

Underneath the darkness of his sunglasses and the dip of her beanie, Vera paid close attention to the quirks and tips that Malachai pointed out as he walked her through and out of the castle. She had planned on, after scouting trails in the forest, walking the school to get her lay of the land and figure out the best paths for getting to class. It was something she hadn’t done at Ilvermorny that had come back and bit her in the ass later. Stepping into the boy’s locker room after a rowdy quidditch practice had been quite the eye-opener. Luckily for her, at only eleven, her “effect” as she called it wasn’t very powerful yet. She’d been considered “cute” and peers wanted to protect her. It was interesting noticing the changes of people’s endearment toward her after that.

Even some professors.

Vera glanced up at Malachai as they stepped back out to the courtyard and started walking down the road in the direction the sign pointed. Chillhorn Village. It sounded quaint, but then again Switzerland towns either sounded quaint or confusing, she’d decided. She still struggled to wrap her tongue around “Grosshöchstetten”. Antonio, her aunt’s late husband’s lover, had nearly spit out his drink in laughter at Vera’s attempt to pronounce the town’s name. Chillhorn was much, much easier in comparison and she was grateful she wouldn’t be embarrassing herself in front of Malachai too badly.

As they walked, Vera grew more and more comfortable with him. It had been some time now since they’d passed the point where if Malachai wanted to hurt her, he could. He still kept walking, arm bent and her hand nestled in his elbow, and telling her about Beauregard and the many different personalities she’d encounter.

”So no sarcasm with Professor Pierce, then.”

She turned her head to look at a sign as the road split off. Half a kilometer to Chillhorn, that was… roughly a third of a mile? Vera was surprised at how long they’d been walking. She turned her chin up to Malachai thoughtfully.

”What about the Charms Professor? I think it’s, mmm…” Vera hummed in thought and looked down at her slippers as she searched her memory for the name. Elsa had given her a list of professor’s names before she joined the school. The woman had done her research on the academy and wanted Vera to be just as prepared. ”Berkley, I’m pretty sure. And Ancient Ruins? Pip - Pippindor….? No. Hmmm. Anyway. They were admittedly my favorite subjects back at Ilvermorny.”

Her head lifted back up and she smiled distantly,

Then, suddenly, she snapped the fingers on her free hand and grinned. ”Pippindorio! I was close. Professor Pippindorio’s class.”

butterflies around the flame

She preferred it when he was talking - giving her lots of insight into the school and the people inside of it.

As they approached the town, Vera’s eyes danced over the little swiss village with a distant smile. Her grandmother would have loved this place. Vera could imagine her clutching at her bag and nearly hopping up and down like a child as she would point out the old architecture and antique-like storefronts. The sweets shop would have her gleefully spending all their money on candy and then faking an apology to her husband as he pointed out that teenagers needed more than sugar to get by.

"So if you had been going to Ilvermorny, what brings you here?"

Vera’s expression morphed into something guarded. The wounds of losing her grandparents were still fresh, and the scabs started to bleed easily if picked at. She licked her lips and cleared her throat as he lead her up to the steps of a small clothing shop. She broke away from him to run her fingers along several hangers; frowning not at the clothing but at the memories that welled in her eyes.

”My Aunt thought it’d be best if I transferred.”

Rolling her lips together, she busied herself with finding pieces of clothing that could get her by until her brother sent her her actual suitcase. As the silence stretched between them, Vera turned her head to look at him, thankful that his sunglasses helped hide the emotions undoubtedly churning in her eyes. She’d never been very good at keeping her thoughts and feelings out of her gaze. Her grandfather used to call her pure because of that.

”My grandparents died, and my mom is a raging alcoholic barely capable of taking care of herself, let alone her kids, so my Aunt took me and my brother in and moved us here.”

The way she spoke was sharp; as if she were spitting daggers between her teeth. She heard it, but it was too late to take it back. Instead she turned and reached her hand up to rake her fingers through her hair; grabbing her hat before it could fall again. Taking in a breath, she exhaled it in a slow sigh before stepping a couple paces away to the next rack.

”Sorry,” came the much softer tone a few breaths later as she glanced over her shoulder at him; a few pairs of jeans and shirts draped over her arm. ”Anger issues…”

Guess Vera got more than just her looks from her mother.

butterflies around the flame

Vera didn’t know what she expected from Malachai in response, but the understanding in his eyes and the kind tone of his voice was not it. She paused with the clothing cradled in her arms and studied him from behind the shield of his sunglasses; her expression carefully neutral before she exhaled slowly and the barest smile tinted her lips. Turning, she moved into the dressing room and closed the door behind her. Hanging the garments up on the wall, she finally took the sunglasses off of her face and set them on top of her beanie. Looking at herself in the small mirror hanging in the closet-sized room, Vera reached up to comb her fingers through her hair and smooth it down some. She loved her beanie, but it made her hair a frizzy, static mess.

”I haven’t tried Archery, no,” She responded from inside of the dressing room.

Her eyes flickered briefly over her face before she turned her back and gathered her hair up in a ponytail to keep it out of the way. She changed quickly and efficiently; simply making sure the clothes fit. She picked out simple items. Blue and black denim, and several plain T-shirts that would serve as easy outfits to get through the next few days. Keeping on one pair of the blue jeans, a blank tank that hung loosely around her midsection, Vera stepped out of the dressing room with the rest of the belongings in a bundle in her arms. The owner of the clothing shop came over and offered to hold her items at the front. Vera smiled gratefully and handed them over to her, as well as the tags for the items she was still wearing.

With her hair up and away from her face, nothing on to help break up that allure, she moved quickly.

”I started welding, though, when I was ten. It helps some, but not always.”

She shrugged, as if all of a sudden nothing she was talking about was a big deal. She shoved it all down into the center of her and tightened the lid. She could almost hear her grandmother’s exasperation.

Plucking a zip-up hoodie from the rack, she put it on and snapped the tag. It never occurred to her that it wasn’t polite, though the shop owner didn’t seem to mind. It was just something she’d always done when she went shopping. She’d walk out with the clothes on, tags presented to the cashier to ring her up. Zipping the hoodie up, she moved then to the shoes. Checking the size of a pair of red sneakers, she switched over from her slippers and then plucked a quick pair of aviator sunglasses from the wall near the cashier’s desk. Handing over the tags, she slipped on the sunglasses and hat again as she waited.

The elderly woman clicked her tongue.

”Such beauty! You should not hide.”

Vera’s smile was small, but genuine as she handed over her aunt’s charmed credit card.

”Thank you.”

Reaching out and taking the bags from the woman, Vera turned and followed Malachai out of the doors and to the streets beyond. She exhaled softly and then looked up at him, holding his sunglasses out for him now that she had her own.

”Thanks for letting me borrow these.”

Shifting the bags into her free hand, Vera tucked her hand into her hoodie pocket and looked up and down the street.

”So, are you in a hurry to get back to campus, or can I buy you a coffee as a thank you?”

Returning her eyes back up to him, she licked her lips and shrugged her shoulders before dropping her gaze again.

”If you want to, anyway. It’s okay if you don’t.”

butterflies around the flame

She tried not to get defensive when it was apparent that her Veela blood affected him, but it was difficult. She struggled with the balancing act of understanding it wasn't their fault and feeling angry and hurt over never being able to trust that someone liked her for her. And what sixteen year old didn’t want to be liked, no matter what front they presented to the world? Out of most her age (give or take a few years) though, Malachai was clearly attempting to make it as easy as possible on her instead of himself. It was something that did not go unnoticed.

”I could see how archery would come in handy,” She mused, imagining firing a few arrows at some unwelcome persons. She definitely wasn’t about to explain that thought out loud, though. She didn’t want to give Malachai an excuse to not teach her should she decided to try.

As they walked toward the cafe, Vera adjusted the bags in her hands and then moved to grab the door. Malachai was there first, pulling it open for her and she smirked up at him before stepping past. Her eyes danced over the inside of the cafe; noting the small smattering of patrons sitting at booths and tables. She thought it was cute, and looked up at Malachai over her shoulder as he advised her not to judge it yet. Her lips curved into a smirk, and she shook her head as she stepped in line behind him to approach the counter.

Tilting her head up to look over the menu essentials, Vera stepped up when she was spoken to. Her smile was friendly when she looked to the older man, trusting her hat and glasses to dull enough of her “impact” that there wouldn’t be a scene or embarrassment for anyone involved.

”The same for me, please,” She said as she handed her card out to the man. While Malachai had been ordering, she’d pulled it out from her pocket again and held it at the ready. ”And a blueberry muffin.”