Here Comes The Sun {Open}

Chase hated this. He was all alone, and no one else was here yet. He'd been forced to leave home a day early because he just couldn't stand how much his parents had integrated muggle life into their own. He just wanted someone to come and talk to him, but his owl, Bella, was out already doing something. Catching mice or whatever she did. Even in the middle of the day. He wished he could call her, but there was no way he could do that right now.

"Seriously? This sucks..."

Chase wasn't talking to anyone in particular. Himself maybe. Maybe the fish he spotted in the pond, that blobbed and splished. No one in particular.

He looked around for a moment then, before deciding exactly what he was going to do. Despite the danger of being caught, Chase shifted into his favourite shape, the cracking bones, stretching of skin and general feelings of pain no longer bothering him. His tail curled up around him as he did as any large cat would, and began to groom himself, occasionally dabbling a paw into the cool water of the Kelpie Pond behind him.

As the sun shone fully upon the pond, Chase stretched out on a bench, which creaked under the weight of a 90 kilo plus big cat spread out on it, and his tongue lolled out. This was what this body was made for- soaking up the sun and fighting, that was.

It was strange for Medea to be back at Bradan so early, even if it was only a single day early, but she and her parents had decided that it would be for the best. Her father was to begin hunting a particularly large bounty the next day, and her mother had already planned a lavish trip along the English channel, which ran quite close to Bradan itself. She and her parents had spent the previous two weeks exploring the countryside, enjoying as much food and leisure as they could, and having a wonderful time frightening muggles. This afternoon, as they began their travel homeward, her parents had dropped her off at school with her personal belongings and their lavish goodbyes.

Medea was achingly sad to be without them, and her empty and echoing dorm room only intensified this feeling. Instead of moping around and wasting the beautiful summer day by staying cooped up inside, she had opted to scoop up her perpetual kitten, Christopher (she thought giving cats 'cute' names was demeaning, and absolutely abhorred people who named them after food), and meander her way down to the lawn. Her dark hair draped itself thickly down the back of her (house-elf made) white veela hair smock, and the sun's reflection streaked her locks with glaring ribbons of gold. She was not made up for such an innocent occasion, and her overall appearance was of one quite a few years younger than herself. Her eyes, her dress, her loose hair, they all served to make her look childlike. Everything about her looked clean and pure and innocent. Everything except the minuscule upward hook of the right corner of her lips - something that would barely be recognizable to anybody who wasn't looking for such a thing.

Christopher lounged happily in the crook of her left arm, feet hanging jauntily in the air as they made their way to the kelpie pond. She hadn't really intended to end up there, but the way the golden sun was playing on the water gave her the small tickle of déjà-vu that she associated with her own little brand of eyesight. She was meant to go over there, so she would. She had the fleeting idea, though these ideas were no longer strange to her, that Christopher wasn't quite big enough for this scenario. She merely walked on, the short heels of her crimson shoes making small, muffled thumps on the lawn; a sound utterly distinct from the lingering taps they caused within the main castle. She perched herself gracefully on the edge of the concrete lip of the pond and ran her index finger across the surface, delighting in the way the fish scattered - panicked out of their tiny fish minds - away from the ripples. Christopher emulated his mistress, almost falling into the pond for what must have been at least the one hundred and eighty first time in his life. She was about to scold him lightly when a flash of black movement caught her peripheral vision.

She turned her head sharply around and realized that the movement had been the lazy flick of the tail of the large black cat (panther, she reminded herself bemusedly, he hates when I call him a cat) lounging on a nearby bench. Perfect, she reflected, A larger version of Christopher. She scooped up the small cat and made her way languidly towards the bench. "Really now, Chase. Must you take up the entire bench?" she said unhurriedly. She set a hand gently on the top of the panther's large, glossy head, allowing Christopher to jump lightly down and perch on top of the larger cat. "If I had known you would be down here, I would have rather suffered in my room. May I take a seat?" She bent down, bringing her warm olive eyes closer to his piercing blue ones, an easy smile touching her face and making her look even more childish.

Chase's ears had twitched at the sound of heels clicking in the grass, and he'd raised his head slightly, blue eyes slitted against the sun, to see Medea approaching. Which, by definition meant that there was going to be no harm done to the panther who was lay across the bench, absorbing the sun. Chase had found over the years that some people freaked out at the sight of a large black panther with bright blue eyes, especially if said panther was approaching them at a reasonable speed. He'd even once been shot, resulting in him morphing back to human form and yelling indecent words at the bastards who'd shot him before he passed out through pain.

He watched bemusedly as Medea played with the kitten and he simply lounged. Her mind had quite possibly blocked seeing Chase until she saw him. After all, the human mind- even a seers, or a warlocks, or a wizards- generally refused to accept the impossible. And despite the general open minded-ness of people who knew him well, or people who came to Braedan for that matter (ghosts aren't generally something you encounter everyday, are they?), a panther lounging on a stone bench in England, without even the slightest hint of fear or aggression was still generally regarded as impossible.

The kitten was adorable, Chase would admit so, a small panther in the making with the gangly legs and huge eyes of a genuine cat. A fly landed on Chase's tail, and he flicked it, irritably, which caught Medea's attention. Despite another irritable flick of the tail as she approached, Chase made a noise that may have been a purr- if panthers could purr that is- when she set her hand on the fine hairs on the top of his head. When he felt a patter of small kitten feet on his back, he turned his head to make use of the limited peripheral vision of a cat, and the muscles in his back twitched, rearranging the fur ever so slightly. Finally he twisted to make a Medea sized shape at the side of his body, the kitten still resolutely stuck to his back. Nudging at Medea's hand, his tongue lolled out in what could have been a grin.

Medea's lips curled into a slow grin at the almost-purring that followed her physical contact with Chase in his panther form. It was almost like the way Christopher purred when she scritched him on the nose, but it was bigger almost. Deeper. If she had been some guileless ditz who didn't know Chase, she probably would have thought he was growling at her and ran off in some guileless, ditzy fashion. And then hopefully fall into the nearest ditch. She ran her hand down the back of his head then let it fall to her side, watching as he shifted to make room for her.

Christopher was caught off guard by the movement and plopped down hard on his stomach, limbs sprawled out and seeming to cling for dear life to Chase's back. Medea made sure that Christopher wasn't going to topple off anytime soon (thought that was still a possibility, was always a possibility), then settled herself comfortably on the edge of the bench. She leaned against Chase's side, not making much of a dent in the beast, and set one long forearm on his back, her hand resting in between his muscular shoulder blades. She saw his tongue fall free from his mouth. "Well aren't you the charmer." she said in reply, entwining her fingers in his silky nightshade fur.

"Now, if you'll permit me, I'll begin the required interrogation into your summer activities. You can answer with your tail. One flick for yes, two flicks for no. Just don't flick me." She considered her question for a moment, tracing a circle on his back with her index finger. "Are you here early because of your oh so wonderful parents?"

When he felt the small kitten fall on his back, Chase made a noise of displeasure, a rumble in his chest that quickly subsided. The arm along his back made his eyes close gently as he relaxed himself and he just let the sun soak in some more. Making a slight warning growl when Medea tugged a little too hard on the fur she was entwining her fingers into, Chase just generally allowed for the leaning.

Listening to the instructions, he leant a little onto Medea (not enough to push her off the bench, just enough to let her know he understood), and he flicked his tail once. As her finger traced patterns on his back, Chase shivered vaguely, and his muscles on his back twitched again. A flick of his tail, at the question. Of course he was early because of his parents! They annoyed him, made him unsure of the wizarding world, and just generally drove him mad until he headed back to Braedan. And because they'd got on his nerves an extra lot this year (they'd insisted on inviting one of the muggles that they were 'friends' with around, along with their muggle daughter. She'd become a little obsessed with Chase, and Chase had then spent the rest of the night hiding in the forest, keeping his eyes on the door in panther form), he'd headed back early. They'd asked nicely if he would stay another day, and Chase had simply sneered, and told them he'd be back over christmas.

What? He liked Christmas at home. And New Years, but that was for the simple reason that the muggles actually did something better than the Wizards on that evening. Lots of fireworks and drunken fools.

Oh yes, Chase enjoyed the Christmas holidays at home.