ofintimidation:
If asked, Albus could draw a picture of the Quidditch pitch with nothing but his memory to serve as reference. More time was spent than not by the wooden stands, the area in which he resided all but hidden to those who aren’t in search of it. From there, he could view others with ease, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to go unnoticed. Not unlike in the castle, he supposed.
A chill ran down his spine as bits of sand and dust blew from a sudden gust of wind. A jacket would have been a good idea for that time of year, but he couldn’t have been bothered to look for one. Albus lifted a bottle to his lips, not so much as wincing as the smoky liquid slid down his throat. Turned his head he watched darkening shadows slowly inch their way along the ground, tangling together until they formed something almost sinister. His gaze was interrupted by a more definite form as it grew closer, and he looked up to see who the visitor was, his finger absentmindedly circling the bottle’s rim. “If you’re looking for pleasant conversation, I’d suggest going elsewhere.” @heavyheartcd
Finding his brother was always easy. Finding anyone in the castle was thanks to the Map. It had let him cheat his way out of detention plenty of times. And quickly find those that didn’t want to likely be found. He hadn’t been planning on going to meet up with Albus, but when he had opened up the Map and seen that his brother was hanging out on the pitch, he grew concerned. He was often concerned for his brother these days. Admittedly, Albus had always been a bit of an arse. And James thought that lovingly. But lately he had grown even more distant.
None of the Potter children seemed to open up to each other unless poked and prodded at. More often than not, it worked against James to try and get his siblings to open up, so instead he would just be the one to talk or simply just hang around them, letting them know that he was there. That was when he found himself making his way under the bleachers, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as he peered at his brother through the darkness, eyes locking on the bottle in his hand. “Who said I was looking for conversation at all?” James retorted, “Though you have to tell me whether or not drinking is really an effective way to keep you warm.” He noted the lack of a jacket on Albus despite the chill winter air. “Not like I’m asking you to share or anything, so I won’t be much of a bother.”