Errand The Blackbird's Black Tea Finished PV

@Flash Holmwood

Why did a first year want to do an errand with her? The question was at the forefront of Bridget's mind as she made her way to the Courtyard. No one had ever invited her to one of the Hogwarts errands before, save for Thora, but she was her best friend. This person... well, she barely knew him. Really, what did she even know about him? His name was Flash, not that she had learned that from him since they hadn't been properly introduced. He was a first year from her House and he'd been a part of the plan to confront Vladimir at the Blossom Ball with some questions, not that anything had gone according to plan. And her first interaction with him hadn't been great--he'd snapped at Thora and she'd snapped back. She supposed he had a good reason for it, though; she wouldn't have liked if her planning committee was intruded on by several eavesdroppers.

So why had she accepted his out-of-the-blue invitation? Bridget wasn't entirely sure. There was the obvious reason of not wanting to be rude, but the fact Opeila, someone she'd grown to think fairly highly of, trusted this boy gave her reason to at least give it a shot. After all, she could up and leave at any point if she wanted to, and who didn't want money and chocolate?

She wasn't the first one to arrive in the Courtyard, but she was fairly early, making it easy to spot Flash. It was a nice day, warm but thankfully not stiflingly so, with just a hint of a breeze. Correspondingly, she wore jean shorts with a long-sleeved shirt to cover most of her blackened veins [Outfit]. Her thick brown hair was out of her face, pulled back into a ponytail [Hair].

Walking up to the taller boy and sliding into a seat at his table, Bridget wasn't sure quite what to say. The way they had originally met was just so unusual it made everything else uncertain. So what if they fixed that? Maybe introducing themselves properly was just the place to start. Clearing her throat, Bridget asked, "Flash? Um... Holmwood, right?" She was pretty sure that was his last name. Opeila had written everyone's full names on signs for the Dorm Battles and thinking back she thought that's what she'd seen. And if she was wrong, well, hopefully it wouldn't be too awkward. "You already know my name, but for the sake of an actual introduction..." She extended her hand to shake. As a rule, the second year despised handshakes, but it was the only thing she could think of to make this more natural. "Bridget Collins."

Now what? She glanced to where he'd been looking before she'd arrived. There were an assortment of tea leaves, sewing supplies that had probably been used for the Embroidery Errand she'd taken part in, filter paper, and few other things. Well, this was an errand, so she might as well start. Bridget took a moment to gather embroidery thread, a pair of scissors, some filter paper, and a sheet of construction paper. If she was entirely honest, she was at a loss for how to make an animal-shaped tea bag out of this. Sewing wasn't exactly her specialty. The best thing she could do was try, though. She wasn't really here to make a perfect tea bag anyways.

Speaking of which... "Why'd you invite me here?" Made it was a bit blunt, but she preferred being to-the-point. She looked up from where she'd started to sew the edges of the filter paper together at the boy. His motives piqued her interest far more than some craft.

Total Word Count | 610/1000

Flash had identified most of the teas when his attention was drawn by the clearing of a throat nearby, Bridget standing beside him with her hair up, looking mildly uncomfortable. She went through the effort of introducing herself properly, something that brought a big smile to Flash’s face. Diligent, too, it seemed. It was just what he had planned to do himself, but he was glad to be beaten to the punch.

Flash accepted the handshake properly, though he kept it brief and light, it was important to read your counterpart’s body language to give the right kind of address, and her body language said she didn’t know why she was making his acquaintance to begin with, or whether she should.

”Of course, Miss Bridget, thank you for accepting my invitation.” He lessened his smile intentionally, he didn’t want to seem like he was too pleased, it would certainly come off as suspicious, especially since she had good reason to question his intentions.

She started messing with the gathered crafting materials, collecting pieces of what one could expect to need for one tea bag. Flash was used to seeing small sets of instructions being laid out for students to follow, but he couldn’t find one. Wasn’t the task of creating animal tea bags a quite complex one to have the students be left to their own devices? Perhaps the sheets simply hadn’t been placed around yet. Flash didn’t even attempt to fiddle with the needle for now.

Then, as she got right into sewing, she also got right to the point. Another quality Flash enjoyed out of his company, he knew he had seen something special in her. ‘Special’ of course was very subjective, as he couldn’t proclaim to see her as some sort of prodigy or diamond in the rough. She was someone he could see himself getting along with naturally, the kind of thing that needed to be sought out once it was recognized. At least that was what he had been taught by his older brother. A business person might call it ‘synergy’, but Valerius had a nicer word-- sympatico.

Though, the way Flash’s mind worked was one that couldn’t be explained directly-- it often threw people off, or worse, made them think he was a robot. He had to introduce the idea in a way that made it seem reasonable, and not like a game master collecting pieces.

”Well, I hope I don’t have to keep up too much pretense and can speak a bit candidly…” Broaching the topic by insinuating that he also wanted to get right to the point, he still put in the effort to soften the blow. ”I watch people. I pay attention to what people are doing, and what they aren’t doing. Maybe you can sympathize, I imagine many in our house are the same.”

”The way you kept an eye on the threat at the ball, and acted quickly when things went wrong, without giving into panic or distraction… in that moment I was thankful to have you as an ally.”

Flash took a moment to let his words sink in, he didn’t want to say too much all at once. For one, he didn’t know how she would react to him saying he was watching her, regardless of his attempt to make it seem like a pedestrian activity. To some, it would mean nothing, but to others it could trigger a sense of paranoia. He would have to work with the information she gave him through her responses, and see how best to work himself into her favor. Either by seeming more wholesome, or by seeming more in control. Whichever one she liked better.

”So whether it’s to earn your favor, or to simply say thank you, I wanted to have the opportunity to talk.”

Flash took a piece of filter paper into his hand, feeling the texture between his fingers idly. He would act busy while giving her time to reply to his remarks. He got the impression that Bridget wouldn’t appreciate direct eye contact. It was all the better, while his general demeanor gave people a sense of calm, his steadied gaze tended to have the opposite effect. He was still learning how to control his… intensity.

Interacting with: @Bridget Collins
Word count: 1,246/1000 (completed)
Continuing thread for RP

@Flash Holmwood

For a first year, Flash was surprisingly polite. Almost overly so. Bridget wasn't sure she'd ever heard a boy his age us the words 'pretense' or 'candidly', nor address her as 'Miss'. Sure, she was a year older than him, but that didn't mean she expected him to be so formal. On the plus side, his politeness carried over into accepting her handshake and answering her rather blunt question instead of making things any more awkward. As someone who had never had all that great social skills, she was definitely impressed. Maybe this whole interaction was weird simply from the nature of it, but he made it feel more natural, less tense.

Bridget could relate to watching people. She knew firsthand that being observant, be it of people or your surroundings, was incredibly useful. Especially at the ball, it made since he would've known what she was doing--allies couldn't assist each other if they didn't know where their allies were and what they were up to. At his compliment, she felt herself blush. His was the first praise she'd received in... months, maybe. Perhaps all year. There were the occasional comments here and there, of course, about the quality of her work or her flying abilities, but not like this.

Still, how much credit could she actually take for how well she'd supposedly handled everything? Sure, she'd kept her head on straight, helped where it was needed, but as for not panicking... well, she hadn't really had anything to panic over. She'd avoided the mosps and they'd left her alone. None of her friends had been in mortal danger. Not freaking out with the given circumstances seemed like the average thing to do--doing so would've made her pathetic.

So Flash wanted to... earn her favor? Interesting. "Well. For starters, drop the 'Miss'. Just Bridget is fine. And..." She quirked a bit of a smile. "Don't expect me to call you Mr. Flash anytime soon. As for the Ball, well, thanks. I can't say I was necessarily all that impressive, but it's nice of you to say that."

She dropped her eyes back to the tea bag she was making, more or less. So far she'd only made a few stitches, unsure of what to make and how to make it. Actually... maybe she did know how to make it. All she'd have to do was line up two pieces of filter paper, which she'd already done, and then stitch the shape of the animal she wanted to make, right? Once she'd gotten most of the way around, she'd put the tea leaves in, finish it off, and cut away the edges. It seemed like that would work, and it was at least worth a shot. Now for what to make. A snake? It was a relatively simple design, and there was nothing wrong with some House pride.

As she began sewing the outline of the sinuous creature, a thought hit her. Something she probably should have considered earlier. Sure, maybe Flash did want to say thank you. But what did he want her favor for? And was there another reason he'd asked her to come? He'd pointed out that many in their House were observant. They also were cunning and ambitious. They usually had an ulterior motive. So what was his? Did he need her help with something?

"If I'm wrong," she started slowly, carefully piecing together what to say, "if I'm wrong, then apologies for considering otherwise. But, may I ask, was there another reason you asked me to come? This is the House of cunning, and as I'm sure you're well aware, us snakes like to conceal our real intention with a surface one." She too had an underlying motive for being here: she didn't do it just to be nice, she did it to see what he was really up to inviting her. If he'd just wanted to offer his gratitude, he could have done it when he'd asked her to come here. Bridget wasn't sure whether she wanted to be wrong or right about Flash wanting more than to say thank you, but hopefully it wouldn't make this conversation, which was actually somewhat pleasant, turn sour.

Total Word Count | 702 + 610 = 1312/1000
Word Count Completed

As Bridget began to work on her project diligently, Flash also stopped fiddling with the filter and gathered a few materials around him. Since he hadn’t been given any clear instruction, he decided instead to rely on something another prefect had taught him at one of these errands-- origami. He could fold a filter into an animal shape, fill the inside, and then sew the part with the loose leaves shut. He had actually learned sewing at an errand as well. Without having realized it, these errands were teaching him a lot. Granted, they seemed to be centered around crafting small art projects, but he was thankful for it in the moment.

Flash was curious to watch her reactions out of the corner of his eye. She seemed flattered, which was good. It didn’t surprise him that she had gone unappreciated, few people seemed to value the same things Flash did. Most people looked for friends who were ‘exciting’ or in Flash’s case, people who affirmed their self-confidence and made them feel better about themselves. Flash doled out compliments like a weapon, yet his own personal preference for company was different. He wanted people who challenged him, and who worked hard even when they expected it to be thankless.

”Certainly, Bridget.” Flash smiled calmly, only a few girls actively told him to drop the formality. ”Just ‘Flash’ is perfect. No need to diminish your contribution, though I won’t harp on it any longer.”

Flash was hardly one to talk when it came to accepting compliments, so he was glad she took it well. In general, it seemed she had relaxed a bit. Perhaps it was because it was the end of the year, and Flash had gone through so much trial and error, but the conversation seemed to flow seamlessly. Perhaps it was also just as he had predicted, and the two of them were birds of a feather.

As she worked to sew pieces together, she began to speak again, though any confidence had drained from her words. Instead, she hedged around asking Flash to explain himself further. To elucidate his real intentions. Her hesitation was hardly warranted, though she couldn’t have known just how roughly he had been rebuffed and pushed back against throughout the year. Comparatively, her words were like a gentle hand on the shoulder. His smile stayed as he paused his folding to look off in thought, considering how best to explain himself. At the start of the year, he might have considered weaving an intricate narrative about how wonderful she was, and how he was a poor little first year who needed her immaculate guidance. Instead, over time he had learned that honesty and love were much more effective tools.

”You’re right, I do have an ulterior motive, but it isn’t a nefarious one.” Flash had settled on his thought process, and therefore continued his work, periodically lifting it up to see if it looked right. ”I want to surround myself with people like you. People who are dependable, people who I could trust if I want something done right. Perhaps it’s selfish, but I don’t intend to keep it one-sided. Perhaps if I wasn’t a Slytherin, I would call it making friends, but instead it’s a bit more like gathering allies.”

Flash’s little filter bird was complete, and he started to sprinkle in the lapsang souchong that he detected earlier, and sewed it shut. He grabbed another bowl of leaves and inched it closer to Bridget.

”Here, why don’t you try this tea, I think it may be to your liking. It’s called darjeeling. It’s a black tea with hints of both musky spiciness and hidden sweetness. They call it ‘muscatel’, if I’m saying that right.”


@Bridget Collins

@Flash Holmwood

As Bridget predicted, Flash had an ulterior motive, but he was right in saying that it wasn't a sinister one. "Your honesty is appreciated," she said once he'd finished his explanation. "And I think we can both agree that in order to survive this crazy school, allies are a necessity." At that, she offered a small smile. She had actually been quite lucky--her first year, she'd kept to herself, stayed out of harm's way. Sure, it had been lonely, but that was a small price to pay in comparison to facing mortal danger as a first year with a ridiculously limited arsenal of spells.

Her snake was almost complete now. She set aside her needle and thread for a moment, looking for what tea leaves to insert. As it was, she didn't have to choose. Instead, Flash pushed a bowl of leaves towards her, explaining what it was. How he'd decided the tea would be to her liking from their short period of contact, she didn't know, but there was a fair chance she would, in fact, like his recommendation. Black tea had always been one of her favorites. For someone, like herself, who was constantly busy, be it with sports, homework, a craft, or additional research, and often got to sleep too late, the caffeine was just what she needed to keep going. She accepted the leaves, taking some and dropping them into her snake.

After a good amount of shaking and pushing--the snake was pretty thin so the leaves kept getting stuck--she sewed the rest of the way around and cut off the thread. With the scissors, she cut around the snake's outline, removing the extra filter paper. Now for a tag. Collecting another bit of string and a small square of construction paper, she wrote in simple script: 'Darjeeling Tea.' Looping the thread through the snake and poking it through the paper, she finished the addition with a simple knot. There--she was done. Dropping the tea bag into the cup of steaming water, she left it to steep. Or, she intended to just leave it and focus her attention on conversation. Instead, out of the corner of her eye she saw the bag start to move. Looking back at the cup, it was clear her snake had started slithering around in the hot liquid. Odd. Magic never got boring, that was for sure.

Well, if she and Flash were now allies, there was something she wanted to ask him. She was almost completely sure he was the boy who'd offered up his non-library books while Illowy and her were researching the cure for the spider's curse. They hadn't made much progress, but perhaps he had. Maybe he'd found additional books, or gone over the ones in his possession enough to find something of use. A quick one-over made it clear he hadn't been cursed, unless it had been on his torso and was easily hidden by whatever clothes he chose to wear. Even if he hadn't, though, considering almost the entirety of their House had been afflicted, one of his friends had probably been victim to a bite. That is, if he had friends. Maybe he really only had allies. But if allies were a necessity for survival, friends were what made your time at Hogwarts worthwhile. What kept you from losing yourself in all the mysteries and fears. Even as self-preserving, cunning Slytherins, they still had friends, right? Take Thora, for instance. The other second year, while from a purely selfish standpoint was a wonderful ally to have, what with her magical prowess, was also her best friend for completely different reasons.

Whether or not Flash had friends, asking him what he'd found on the curse was still worthwhile. "Have you come across anything to help with the curse?" She gestured to the black veins visible in her right hand. "It's okay if you haven't. I for one haven't made anywhere near as much progress as I would have hoped. Or much progress at all, really. Still, you had books from somewhere else, right? And the Professors haven't told us anything..." She really, really hoped he did have something to share. With summer approaching fast, she was starting to lose any hope of being saved from explaining why some of her veins were black to her Muggle parents. It wasn't like she'd be able to hide it from them. And if they learned what happened, would they even let her come back to school? Bridget was well aware Hogwarts was dangerous, but that didn't mean she didn't want to return every year. For the knowledge. For her friends. As a last resort, she would run away if she had to. Find her own way to King's Cross Station. But if she could avoid such extreme actions, avoid them she would.

Total Word Count | 808 + 1312 = 2120/1000

After seeing what had happened with Bridget’s tea bag, Flash poured some of the boiling water into one of the provided tea cups. There were some tea biscuits nearby as well, but Flash wasn’t really one for sweets. Instead he waited for the initial steam to curl into the temperate afternoon air before dipping his own creature into the piping bath. Its small folded wings flapped to life as if suspended in mid-flight rather than the tea cup that was slowly clouding with the amber brown dust of the black tea.

Bridget was perhaps even better than he could have hoped, though he didn’t want to run away with his imagination and start assuming too much. He had been let down by allies before, so even though she seemed like she and he were on the same page, he had to maintain some level of dubiousness. At least until they had a chance to get to know each other better. At the very least, it seemed honesty had been paying off. Everyone felt entitled to it, whether it was kind or unkind. Even though Flash felt he knew better than others what was an appropriate amount of honesty to provide, it didn’t change that people continued to blindly ask for it all, completely unprepared for the consequences of such a perilous request.

The truth, after all, had versions.

Flash train of thought was guided back to Bridget in the present as she pointed to her own hand. He had been right about her being in that group in the library, she had been one of the many students who had to constantly return to the hospital wing to keep that wretched black poison at bay. Even though Bridget’s voice seemed analytical and accepting, the sight of the blood made Flash’s skin crawl every time. He visibly flinched when she showed him, though he gathered himself back up right away.

The truth was, he had let his research on the topic slide. He felt a repulsive churn in his gut, an immense guilt, to realize he had been so thoughtless. For him, he could easily look into it or not at his leisure, but for those who were affected it, was a daily struggle. After he had hit a roadblock, he became distracted by one thing after another. The Partners, the secret ball… he wanted to curse himself for prioritizing such things over the real threat his house mates were facing, coursing through their veins.

Still, what could he realistically do, as a first year? Even the teachers were at a loss, though there was a reason for that. The same reasons he had.

”I wish I could tell you something encouraging, but… I’ve hit a point where there is nothing else I can do.” Flash’s eyes were cast down, watching his tea darken as if hypnotized. ”I have theories... potions and cures that could be something, but… just like the professors, I can’t just test them on students to see what would work. It’s… inhumane. Something could happen, it might make things worse. I…”

Flash floundered for a way to explain himself. He actually did want to experiment on students, but he wouldn’t accept any test subject besides himself, and his blood was clean. In fact, it seemed he got out of almost every tragedy this year practically unscathed, in every way but emotionally. Even though Bridget prefaced her question with an acceptance of his likely incapability, he still felt responsible.

”It’s terrible that you have to go through this, a victim through no fault of your own. I suppose I hoped learning more about Vladimir might help me understand more. Perhaps give some kind of answer, but even that turned out to be a waste of time.” Flash finally lifted his gaze back to her, despite his reticence to see her similar disappointment. ”I still don’t even know if he is connected to all this. Victor and Marion, too. To the black blood. So much posturing and very little actual concrete evidence.”

Flash’s tea was still too hot to drink, but the bird’s flapping wings had stirred the contents to an even blackish hue. Now, the bird inside was nearly imperceptible through the darkened clouds. Only the slight trembling of the tea’s surface belied the magical creation’s movement inside. He couldn’t leave the conversation on such a dark note. It would be one thing if he had answers for her, but the conversation was leading down the road to hopelessness. That wasn’t an emotion he ever wanted to instill.

”I won’t stop trying. I might have to leave Hogwarts soon, but I won’t stop trying to understand. You aren’t in this alone.” It might have been very little, but it was sincere.

@Bridget Collins

@Flash Holmwood

Bridget had to remind herself that she'd expected this answer. Of course Flash hadn't found the cure, or made any real progress. No one had. For goodness sake, she hadn't, and it was her life potentially on the line. Still, she had to drop her gaze to her tea to hide her visible disappointment. She couldn't help but be discouraged after hitting so many roadblocks. At this point, she had started to believe a cure didn't exist. That searching was a waste of time.

"No, it's fine. Really. I mean, I haven't even made any progress and it's my curse... I guess I just got caught up in everything else, with the ball and all the mysteries to piece together. But seriously, you don't even have to help. The fact you were there in the library, offering up your resources... that was enough. It's the Professors that should be looking for a cure, or professionals who know how to cure curses and stuff."

She stared off into the distance for a moment, not really concentrating on anything but needing a second to gather her thoughts. "It's just... I don't know what I'm going to tell my parents. They're Muggles." It was the first time she'd flat-out said she was a Muggle-born without hesitation. At this point, it simply didn't matter. She had bigger problems, and if Flash didn't want her as an ally because she wasn't from a wizarding family, then she had no reason to be his ally. "I'm worried they'll try to pull me from Hogwarts, since it's too dangerous and all, but... I have magic. I belong here, not at some Muggle school. And they still think I'm going to attend a normal college once I'm done here, get a normal Muggle occupation, but I'm not. I haven't figured out how to break it to them, that my life is here now, with the magical world."

Bridget had absolutely no idea why she was telling him this. Maybe she just needed to get it out. Sure, she had people she trusted more; Thora and Katrina were her friends, so she could talk to them about this. But they were also Muggle-borns, just like her, and it somehow didn't feel right complaining about the tension magic had created in her relationship with her family to them. Technically, she didn't know whether or not Flash was from a family of wizards or not--he could have a Muggle family--but considering his exceptional manners, she figured the former. Or perhaps he was just from a very rich, very old-fashioned Muggle family. Maybe she'd done it because Flash was easy to talk to. Now that she was done with sharing, perhaps it was an invitation for him to share in turn, not that she'd intended that when she'd said what she had. Whatever the case, as she watched the slithering snake disappear behind the dark cloud erupting in her tea cup, it felt right.

Bridget offered him an out, simply saying it wasn’t his problem, that the professors or she herself should be the ones who were concerned. He couldn’t blame her for not realizing just how serious he was. Just providing a few useless books wasn’t going to change the world. Still, he wasn’t about to start trying to prove his determination. Words mattered very little in that case anyway, without some kind of forward motion, it was just words. Anyone could say they were devoted to finding a cure, sometimes it was better to shut up and do something. Not that he had any actions to take, he would have to seriously consider his next step. At least he should figure out whose research he should be supporting.

The pair both lost in thought, Bridget was the first to speak again. Her parents. Flash brought his tea close to his face to test the temperature, deciding it was a bit too hot and placing it back down gently. He couldn’t help wanting to hide his face, he was struggling with second hand anxiety. He had only learned about muggle born students recently, though the chances of it should have been an obvious conclusion, given the existence of squibs in wizard families. She was opening up to him, telling him about her trepidations about what her family would think about the danger and her aspirations for the future. Flash stared into his cup seriously, grimly considering the details of her words.

”I see… your parents have aspirations for you…” Flash’s repetition of what she had said was drawn out and quiet. It spoke of relations he didn’t know, situations he’d never been in. Personally, he wondered how any muggle could underestimate the draw of magic once they were welcomed into the world. Perhaps it was more trouble than it was worth for them, though his own squib sister would certainly raze a city if it would have given her magical ability. Values simply couldn’t be compared person to person. ”Certainly there is a way to convince them. Aren’t they reasonable, wouldn’t they listen if your argument was good enough?”

Naturally, Flash’s answer would be to put together an airtight argument that elucidated the most salient points of his point-of-view, as well as prepared counter-arguments for any possible trifle they might have about his reasoning. Then again, his family had always discussed and debated everything. The one with the better point was the one who got their idea across. It was part of the reason Flash had to learn speaking skills so quickly, otherwise he would never be heard at all. He had to remember that other people weren’t like that.

”For instance, the school might be dangerous now, but that only means the world at large is even worse, doesn’t it? Isn’t it imperative that you learn to defend yourself? They must know that a muggle police officer wouldn’t be able to protect you from an attack quite like a protection charm would. Or, if they don’t know that, perhaps they could be taught.” Flash drummed his fingers on his collarbone as he thought idly. There were a lot of details to consider, and not quite enough information to form a properly individualized argument. ”You might be able to get a teacher to write your parents a letter, explaining the situation. Madam Jensen, for instance. She is very reasonable, I doubt she would want to see you disappear into the muggle school system before a cure is discovered. I know that… I would be quite disappointed to discover you wouldn’t be returning.”

Stopping his tapping, he returned to the tea in front of him and finally took a sip. He was glad they had his favorite. It was a bold, woody flavor that tasted like smoke. It cleared his mind, reminded him of happy memories and of his dear friend Willow, who had discovered the tea for him. The sorts of things he was glad to have ‘allies’ for. They made life better.

”Whatever their issue, there must be a solution. Surely they mean well… I would consider trying to see it from their perspective, and figuring out what it is they most want to hear. What would convince them...” Flash looked back at her again, worried that he had started to ramble. ”Pardon me, I started to go on… was any of that helpful?”

@Bridget Collins

@Flash Holmwood

Flash made some good points. Her parents were reasonable. Convincing them still wouldn't be easy, but Bridget would find a way. She had time to formulate a solid argument, find some good examples of why attending Hogwarts was in her best interest. And Professor Jensen was an excellent back-up plan; in fact, Bridget couldn't believe the thought hadn't even crossed her mind before.

"No, that was plenty helpful, actually. Thanks." It really had helped to hear Flash's perspective, even if he had started to ramble a bit, but she was ready to move on from the focus on her more personal matters. Not that she'd suddenly become wary of sharing with the first year, she just wasn't one for dwelling on her problems in conversation.

So, how to switch topics? Bridget would be the first to admit she wasn't particularly socially adept. To stall and give herself time to think, she employed her usual tactic: doing something with her hands. The first thing that came to mind was drinking her tea, especially since one couldn't exactly speak while taking a drink. Before lifting the cup, she dipped her pointer finger into the liquid to obviate any tongue burning. Perhaps not the proper way to check your beverage's temperature, but it was efficient. Her tea was still hot, though no longer scalding, and as Bridget considered her heat tolerance on the higher side after being set of fire several times, she deemed it safe for consumption.

Fishing the snake-shaped bag out of the cup by its tag, she took a tentative sip. The tea was good and indeed to her liking. Thoughts gathered, the Slytherin rested the cup back against the table, fingers still around it. "Well. I suppose I should congratulate you on surviving your first year of Hogwarts." She was being serious. Bridget didn't tend to joke around much, and it was a legitimate accomplishment with the constant threats to their safety, but she at least tried to make it sound light-hearted. It was an invitation, too, to discuss the harder topics, like the Blossom Ball. If he wanted. The most recent disaster hadn't shaken her too badly, but all things considered, she'd gotten incredibly lucky. Chances were, Flash had had it worse. Besides, why ruin a perfectly good day with such depressing, scary topics if it could be avoided? Nevertheless, the offer was on the table. Just in case.

Tapping a finger against the tea cup, she looked out towards where she could just see the tip of the Quidditch Stands. Thankfully, the Pitch hadn't been damaged too badly. Speaking of which, in the event Flash didn't want to talk about the Blossom Ball... "Have any plans to join Quidditch or Duelling? Or a club or something? It's a good distraction." She hadn't joined Quidditch for a distraction, of course, but with her third year approaching it was one of the reasons she would try out again. Bridget lifted her cup and took another sip before settling her gaze on Flash, curious of what his answer would be.