Relaxation Studying.

The beginning of the school year meant the halls were hectic. There were first years left and right roaming the halls trying to find their classes, or their friends. Any matter of thing. And older students were loudly yelling and being excited over seeing their friends.

All in all it was a loud and crowded experiance.

Which Samael had done five times already. The Slytherin common room was just as messy. And, honestly, so early in the day it seemed hardly the place to study.

The Quidditch Pitch however....Around this time it was practically empty. He could sit on the ground by the goalpost and read. Lay back and soak up the sun. Or just space out. It was ideal.

Potions book propped above him, wand in hand keeping the book in the air, he laid reading. His coat rolled into a pillow under his head, occasionally flicking his hand to turn the page.

Pheodas breathed in a deep breath of fresh air has he stepped slowly onto the lustrous, green grass of the Quidditch Pitch. 'It's been a long time...old friend' he thought to himself as slowly wandered aimlessly on the pitch. With the wind in his hair and his aquamarine cloak flowing blissfully behind him he slowly turned to face the goalposts, there was a student there, a 16 year-old with jet black, majestic hair lying down reading a book with a few ink bottles, pieces of parchment, books and quills surrounding him.

"Having a Nice Day, Samael?" Questioned the Headmaster with a smile as the dropped his book in shock of seeing the Headmaster seeing him studying on the Pitch.

Samael frowned at the book, finding that the page on Sleeping potions had ended up a little closer to his eyes than he had intended. Nevertheless, he sat up, setting the book down next to him. After a very brief moment to make sure he hadn't marred his face in any way, he looked up at the man.

"Always, Headmaster." He gave him a pleasant smile. The man had allowed him many academic advances, he doubted he would ever be anything less than polite to Pheodas Draconis. "What brings you to the pitch, Sir?"

Pheodas thought for a second, thinking about the question Samael just asked him.

"Nostalgia, it's been along time since I've rode my broom here..." Pheodas smiled for a second then sighed slightly. "My Nimbus 2001...I was seeker for Ravenclaw from my 2nd Year to my 6th Year...It was in my sixth year that my Nimbus 2001 snapped in an accident with a bludger and the enemy beater...snapped my broom clean in two..." Pheodas sighed again then walked over and sat down next to Samael.

Samael adjusted so he wasn't encroaching on the Headmaster's space. He listened intently, taking in what the man had said. An accident in his sixth year had destroyed his broom and, endly, his Quidditch career.

"Why, if you don't mind my asking, Sir, did you not get a replacement broom?" He thought in the moment it might not be as rude of a question. Since the Headmaster did bring the subject up.

Pheodas quickly turned to gaze at Samael and smiled slightly as he opened his mouth.

"I did...it wasn't as good as my Nimbus 2001...it was a Cleansweep Eleven...I played 2 matches with it but decided to resign, I had lost my touch" Sighed Pheodas shamefully

He listened. A Quidditch career that had just lost it. Samael was sure that the Headmaster had potential. It was a shame to have lost it so young.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Sir." It seemed an odd question, but he felt the urge to continue. "Have you ever thought to try again?"

Pheodas thought for a second, scratched the back of his head then smiled softly at Samael

"I've never thought of trying again..." He said calmly as he stood up.

"I still have my old, broken broom in my office but it is damaged beyond repair, I have tried Reparo many, many times" Sighed Pheodas.

"I could always get a new broom but it's been a long time since I've properly flew." He smiled

After listening a little, he chuckled at the Headmasters words. Of course he'd kept the broom. And it sounded like that much damage to a magical item was irreparable. It was a shame. He hoped that never happened to himself. To lose something that freeing would be a vast waste of potential.

"I don't suppose you have so much time any more, sir." Another chuckle. "Being a Headmaster and all."