arya ]] doesn't mean much

[PAULO HENRIQUE ALVES]

The only really fun lessons were the first years, since they didn't know what they were doing and were often terrified. He was sort of amused by that. Of course, older classes were great too because the girls were much more likely to swoon and be saved by him when they tip off at low heights. But really, teaching was not his cup of tea, and he had the Ravenclaw 6th years in a minute. Ravenclaws were usually the most afraid and weak, book people not anything physical.

He got to the pitch late, he liked to watch them squirm uncertainly while they waited to see if maybe he wouldn't show. "Good afternoon class." He shouted as he came up behind the group, a bag of brooms in hand. Some already had their own, but others needed the school brooms. He dropped the bag, his skin glistening slightly in the midday sun. The sunshine reminded him of home in Portugal. It never got warm enough here in England, and you couldn't swim in the water, it was far too cold and rough.

"Today we will be running a simple drill to see what you remember from last year." He sent up a series of hoops that moved in different ways, ready to watch them go through and practice them.

[ARYA GILLYWEED SPORE]

Arya had already developed a cold sweat well before she actually got onto the grounds. All morning she was thinking a way out of this class. Half an hour ago she stopped by the infirmary, but Madam Pomfrey couldn't see what was wrong with her. She let her go, but with a slip of paper that said that Ms. Spore is suffering from nerves. She's to go straight to the infirmary should she get any worse.

Her incredibly attractive professor and his incredibly good looks were only marginally distracting her. Like every other girl, Arya was smitten with him. She already decided that Arya Alves would sound lovely, should they get married. But, unlike every girl, Arya tried not to like her flying professor. Because Arya didn't like being like every girl. So she tried acting indifferent around him. And whenever she did stare, she put on a thoughtful and careful expression, so most of the time it looked like she was analyzing him like he was an interesting plant.

It was such cruel irony that he was the professor of her least favorite and worst class. In literally every other class she could've shown off.

Today she could hardly even look at him as she approached. Her eyes were on the flying death traps in the bag he brought. She swallowed and handed him her note, not even able to speak, hoping that his perfection extended to a merciful heart.

[PAULO HENRIQUE ALVES]

A Ravenclaw girl, one who looked very nervous and pale (though from sickness or by genetics he couldn't say), handed him a note from Madame Pomphry. Nerves were nerves, you didn't get to leave exams just because you were nervous. He chuckled a little bit at it. "I'll be sure to send you there if anything happens, but for now, please get on your broom." The rest of the class had taken off and was practicing with various sets of hoops designed to test the basic skills they should have learned by now. It was a fairly simple class to pass if you just paid attention. He flashed her a toothy smile though for encouragement. Many girls, even if they disliked flying gave a shot for him. He wouldn't pretend like he didn't also try to see their legs as their robes and skirts twisted in the wind a bit, but that he would keep to himself.

When Ms. Spore didn't move right away, he handed her a broom. She had to know how to mount the thing. "Ms. Spore?" He prompted, raising an eyebrow at her carefully. Whatever was up with her was all in her head, and she just needed to stop thinking so much, it made him tired. That was the problem with the ravenclaws he knew in school, they never knew what they wanted and always over analyzed.

[ARYA GILLYWEED SPORE]

Arya stared at the broom in her hand. Seconds felt like years as she teetered on the edge of indecision.

These were the facts that she knew:
-there was no way she could do this
and, well, that was it.

It wasn't a matter of courage. It was pure logic. Arya couldn't fly. If she lifted off the ground, she was going to get hurt. It was ridiculous that this should've been required of her. She didn't need this class. There was some part of her that knew that she just had to hand the broom back to the professor and march right up to McGonagall's office and state her case. That there were plenty of accomplished wizards and witches that couldn't fly. She could pull it off. Adults always liked her, and Arya always had a way of getting what she wanted.

But she was so scared that she wasn't thinking that clearly. She was lightheaded and already nauseous. She was suddenly worried that she was going to cost her house points, and she didn't want to disappoint anyone. She looked up at her professor desperately, trying to convey with her eyes that she was very sorry but this wasn't going to happen, because she couldn't speak. If she opened her mouth, she was going to cry.

[PAULO HENRIQUE ALVES]

But she just stood there, frozen as if she'd been petrified. Paulo looked at her for a long moment and slowly she looked up at him. She looked terribly nervous and he wondered if she'd ever flown at all since her first day, her first year. How come she didn't have a system by now? Or was it just that he was a new professor and thus they hadn't worked out a system.

"Don't be nervous Ms. Spore. How about you just hover?" He offered, the baby first lesson. Broom, kick off, hover a few feet, inches wouldn't work tho itd be better for her. Maybe he could just make the broom hover at a really low height... there was a spell for that, but he racked his brain for it. "You don't even have to kick off, just climb on and i'll make you hover a few inches. Think you can do that?" He tried to be patient, she was pretty in a way that reminded him of girls at home. She wasn't a typical pretty, and he liked that.

[ARYA GILLYWEED SPORE]

It sounded like he was talking to her from very far away, but by the time she processed the words, she realized that the things he was saying were reasonable. Hovering. A few inches. It'd be like levitating. It should be fine. Arya climbed ladders higher than a few inches. It wasn't height she was afraid off, rather that her life depended on a stick. But if he was controlling her motions, than nothing bad could happen, right?

Arya felt slightly reassured, and the small alleviation in her worries allowed her to take in the things around her. First, she realized how patient he was being with her, and suddenly she felt so grateful that she could kiss him. Secondly, she noticed that other girls were giving her very dirty looks because he was giving her so much attention while they were far more impressive actually being functional. Arya tried not to focus on that.

"Okay." she agreed softly. Her first words to him today. She was working up to say thank you for his patience, but she wasn't quite there yet. She lifted one leg over her broom and gripped the handle until her knuckles were white. She tried to control her breathing, but she pulse was deafening in her ears.

[PAULO HENRIQUE ALVES]

Ms. Spore slowly got on her broom and Paulo smiled. Excellent first step. She still seemed terrified, which was a bit beyond him, she had magic, and him to save her if anything went wrong. It wasn't a big deal. But if he had to do baby steps with her, he would (especially because it got him away from the intentional attention whores). Granted, he liked them too, easier to get into bed, but if he was going to have to teach, he supposed he could deal with this chick. He really didn't think it was worth his time, but he wanted to get paid.

She was on, and he waved his wand and the broom lifted up, raising her feet a good 6 inches. He stopped there, given that she could hardly speak or move and he was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with her mentally. Paulo sighed softly and waited for her to adjust and find her bearings before he tried any higher. "You alright Ms. Spore?" He asked carefully, but almost bored.

[ARYA GILLYWEED SPORE]

Arya clung to the broomstick so tightly that her hands were numb. She tried being as still as possible because she never got the hand of balancing on a broom. If she leaned even a little to any side, she felt herself practically fall in that direction. How could Quidditch players calmly sit on their brooms?

She was too preoccupied for her safety to notice the boredom in his voice, but she was feeling better enough to try and give him a thankful smile. However, when she turned her head towards him, her balance went and she fell off her broom.

It was horribly embarrassing, but at least it reaffirmed what Arya already knew. She couldn't do this. And she wasn't going to try again. And in a way, it was a relief to know because now she could move on.

The mixture of relief and adrenaline coursed through her system, and she suddenly had too much energy. When she spoke, she sounded so bold and determined she could've almost been angry. And whenever she was in a state, she tended to use big words.

"No, I am not okay. And I will never be okay so long as I am disjointed from solid ground. No offense to your instructional expertise, but I have no aptitude towards this skill, and I will never acquire it."

Arya picked up the broomstick, which thankfully didn't snap in half or anything. Kneeling down she noticed that her knee was bleeding. The blood was staining her sock. It must have trickled down her leg while she ranted. But that was okay, blood was fine."Here's your broom professor." She said, holding it out to him. "Thanks for trying." she added at the end, because she suddenly felt bad for almost yelling at him.

[PAULO HENRIQUE ALVES]

Oh boy she was a case. A simple turn of the head caused her to fall rather embarrassingly onto the ground and scraping her knee. Nothing serious of course, given she was less than a foot off the ground. The scratch alone was surprising. Her fear seemed to morph into her words as she loudly said she just couldn't do it. He knew it had nothing to do with his teaching skill as he didn't even get to teach her anything yet. Paulo felt the note in his pocket and debated sending her back to pomfry, or telling her how flying was an important skill to master, but there was floo powder and apparation, but still, flying was a basic wizarding skill.

He took the broom and added it to the pile of school brooms from 2001, in major need of an upgrade, and nodded lightly. He was torn between taking points and giving them, she tried, but this was sad. He settled for neither. "Flying is a rather important skill, and if you wish to drop this class, you'll have to speak with the Headmistress." He said simply. He wasn't going to hand hold or baby sit her for hours if she wasn't going to do anything with the class.

[ARYA GILLYWEED SPORE]

This was a terrible situation and Arya was a bit heartbroken - she hated disappointing people. But she didn't want him to pity her, and she wanted to be as far away as possible from this failure. He wasted enough time on her. The looks from classmates were worse and better. Her housemates could be jealous, but they wouldn't actually hate her. They'd pity her maybe, and thankfully none of them laughed when she fell. Some of them were relieved that she was obviously not worth the professor's attention. But their pity now, worse than her fear, was threatening to make her cry, but she held back.

Instead she nodded resolutely. "I understand." She wasn't going to say sorry again, because she didn't want to articulate her own sense of weakness.

She turned and began walking towards the castle. She was going to talk to McGonagall right now. Maybe it was good that she got hurt because now she had evidence that this was a bad mix - her and flying. All her concentration was focused on making a convincing argument as she trudged along the grass. The blood on her leg gleamed in the sun.

[PAULO HENRIQUE ALVES]

"Good effort though," He called after her, trying to be teacherly, but he wasn't cut out for this, and honestly, he was glad to now be furthering the education of the good flyers here. He really wasn't cut out to work with kids, of any age, but he'd survive. Really, what was McGonagall thinking? He couldn't help but wonder if someone back home pulled some strings and called in some favors. Hard to say.

He grabbed his personal broom and kicked off to be with the other students. Many of them were doing rather well and he began calling out tips as he watched them practice.