Tip of my iceberg blues are showing [Lyall]

Perhaps it has been a poor decision  to wait until the End of Term ceremonies to announce her departure from the staff to her charming coworkers and lovely students. After a long conversation with Headmistress McGonagall, the two had come to the decision that Bronte would not return for the following school year as a full-time professor. Bronte was completely at peace with this decision, but when it came to announcing that she would be leaving, she always found some reason not to. Before they knew it, Bronte was neck deep in final papers to grade and exams to score.

The Headmistress included a small bit about Bronte's departure to the students and faculty before dinner, but after the feast was completed, damage control took over. Bronte hugged dozens of crying girls, ones she had given advice to and gotten herself invested in. Holding back tears was difficult, but she needed to be strong for her strong younger women. She congratulated graduating students, shook hands with her colleagues, glared at that Slytherin 3rd year that always gave her the stink eye...

Admittedly, she wasn't really looking forward to speaking to Lyall. After accidentally dating him, scaring him off, enjoying the most awkward tea apology thing ever, she spent months trying to make herself not look like a nut. It took loads of effort, but at least she didn't think that Lyall was frightened of her anymore...

Scanning the attendance, Bronte looked for Professor Trickett amongst the other male professors, who were clustered together out on the lawns, away from where much of the students were sitting. No dice. She looked at the Ravenclaw house table, she looked for him at his seat... Nowhere...

Pulling her robes closer to her, Bronte moved from the professors table, where moments before she was talking with Fitz and Olivia, and began herding the students inside. She had made her rounds, and tomorrow after seeing the students off for the Summer for the first and last time, she would pack up her things and go back to Somerset. Back in with Mum and Nana. She didn't have a job lined up, hadn't sent out a resume, hadn't looked in the Prophet's postings. Nada. A professor's pension was good and definitely enough for Bronte to be able to sustain herself on savings for a few months, but it felt strange to be leaving the castle and going back to Dulverton, the middle of nowhere in a rather shitty house.

It seemed that some of the professors were ending the night with a drink, and feeling more and more open minded to the thought of having one beer, Bronte headed for Hogsmeade, towards the Three Broomsticks, thinking it would only look awful if she didn't join them on the last night of her employment...

As always, it was bustling on a Friday night. Not busy, but in her day she had seen it busier. Since she had sworn off alcohol and stopped drinking cold turkey (though she was never a truly hard drinker), she had only considered drinking a few times. This was the first time she felt that a celebratory drink was in order. All the other times she had wanted to drink was when she was upset, angry, or stressed. This school year deserved to be drank to.

Bronte approached the bar and ordered a house brew, feeling nervous and excited at the same time. She hadn't had a drink in here since she was fresh out of school... Glancing around, she watched people step in from outside, fighting off the melancholy threatening to settle in on her consciousness. Sooner or later, once she was home with her Mom and Grandma, she was going to think of something that reminded her of a student, and then it would hit her...

Ducking into the Three Broomsticks, the tall, lanky professor smiled a hello as a group of professors chorused a greeting from the bar. Lyall clapped Lincoln on the shoulder in a hello and ordered a beer from Rosmerta as he chummed with his fellow teachers. His beer arrived, chilled with droplets of condensation on its surface, and Lyall couldn't have been happier to have arrived at this after party so to speak. It was known to all the Hogwarts professors and staff that a year-end gathering was happening tonight and after dropping Sorley off at his sister's for the evening, he looked forward to relaxing, now student-free and temporarily kid-free too.

Linc was regaling them with a story on a particularly uncoordinated first year Flying student and Lyall's deep, quiet laughter joined the chorus of everyone else's as he made the punchline. He had some stories of his own about students, but a head of blonde hair caught his eye and his stomach turned with a sick swooping sensation. "I'll be right back," he told the guys as he excused himself, beer in hand.

Sidling up to the bar, Lyall leaned his forearms down on the counter and glanced at the blonde just beside him, greeting her with a smile. "Cheers to another year in the books?" he said as he held up his beer.

He was just about to say something about how he hoped next semester would be even better, but then he remembered her announcement and he glanced away briefly so he could hide what emotion he knew was in his eyes. "I have to say I'm a little surprised," he started cordially, trying to sound nonchalant. "We got rid of the worst of them with this graduating class, don't you think?" he joked with a smile on his lips but an uncertain look in his eyes.

Bronte had been staying blissfully ignorant to her surrounded, feeling some sort of shame as a result of her ordering a beer. Drinking again after being dry for so long would be weird, but Bronte felt like she deserved a treat. She was a grown adult who could handle it, so she needed to lift her eyes off of the bar and look for her coworkers.

The old witch who had been here for eon's returned with Bronte's beer, and she slid money across the bar, using her right hand to slide the glass towards her. The head had that sort of magical sheen, and it set a fireworks show of happy memories off in Bronte's head. She smiled as she leaned in for the first sip. When she straightened up, wiping at her upper lip with a napkin, she noticed that she had been joined by the same man she had been looking for up at the castle. Had he been in here the whole time? His wide smile made her laugh, even though she wondered if her face went red from surprise.

"Cheers!" She chirped, picking up the glass and clinking it gently against his. "It's a miracle I made it." With a toothy laugh, she took another sip from her beer. It was delicious.

She looked away for a moment, until he spoke again. At first she was afraid he was going to get sentimental and she straightened up a bit, but when he threw a playful jab into her ribs, and she erupted with laughter. "Definitely." She nodded, glad he was up for a joke. It helped distract her from what was really sad about this celebration. Although, her least favorite student was a graduating seventh year... He might be right...

"The new Transfiguration professor will be really great, though." She added honestly, nodding as she took another sip from her glass, feeling thoughtful. "Student's will really like him."

Of course she felt sad that she wouldn't be continuing as a professor for another year, but she felt like it was clear that she wasn't organized enough to thrive under that much structure. Maybe she was meant to be a server...

Bronte's laugh was at the same time familiar and pleasantly unexpected, a brief, short-lived wave of triumph washed over Lyall at the sound, his smile growing wider in reaction. And then it was his turn to laugh, quietly and rumbling in his chest as he shook his head. "It's a miracle any of us made it through this term," he pulled a face that was simultaneously somehow animated and exhausted.

The Charms professor smiled and nodded in polite acquiescence, a simple shrug conveying his disinterest at the mention of the new professor. He would venture to say that any professor, no matter how well-trained, would find it hard to win over the students as well as Bronte had. His good manners forbade him from disagreeing outright, but he did mention it in a roundabout way. "Yes," he said taking a sip from his chilled glass. "But I did see some girls crying over your leaving earlier. Seems to me like many of the students will miss you." And so will I. His gray blue eyes found hers for a moment before he glanced away.

"What do you plan to do now that you're not weighted down by grading essays and giving exams?" Lyall said with a smile, trying to force away a feeling he couldn't quite put a name to.

This was not the first job that was feeling sore with her impending departure. When she had left the ministry to pursue other forms of employment, she felt the same bittersweet tuggings at her chest. She was no stranger to goodbyes now, not after all of the people she'd said goodbye to over the years... There was her child, her fiancée, now her coworkers of one short year. She didn't care how things started between Lyall and herself, or between herself and any of the other professors, Bronte was determined to enjoy the remaining hours she would spend with them. Perhaps, if she tried hard enough, she'd be able to ditch the cloud of self-consciousness looming overhead and really connect with these people. The circumstances for them to all "let loose" were never more present, and Bronte was as good as a drinking teenager at this point. She'd better take it slow.

She didn't want to face the stinging reality of all of the departures that would take place tomorrow. She was going to fill her mind with happiness, sparked by the people around her now. Lyall was a good friend, and she would miss him. He helped her through all of this, even if at times she thought he would certainly be hesitant and reluctant. He gave her words of advice and positivity when she was slogging through exams and papers and final grades and extra credit. She thought of this, making eye contact while he continued speaking, and continued to lament her loss of connection to him, neglecting to listen until the end of his statement.

She blinked for a moment, trying to figure out the response to the question he had asked. She hadn't been listening properly.

"Uh," She stuttered, both caught off guard by her mid-conversation daydream and how sad she suddenly felt that she wouldn't really talk to Lyall anymore. Would they stay in touch when she left, or would their friendship fizzle out now that they no longer had their employment in common? What about Sorely? How long should she wait before she owled?

"I'm just really... Going to see what's out there..." She shrugged, taking the opportunity to take a gulp from her beer now that she had given a response, though vague as it was.

Slowly coming together around her, Bronte tried to push back the feelings of dread in her stomach when her mind flickered to the moving-out and trip home tomorrow... She felt as if she were a seventh year graduating all over again, except her connections were more shallow, more awkward. Bronte had started looking forward to her interactions with Lyall - she hadn't noticed when it had happened, but at a point, she went from being nervous and anxious in his presence to getting excited when her eyes landed on his face. She considered him her closest work-friend, but that would change when they went home... It left a feeling she couldn't really shake, and though she smiled, it felt bitter in her mouth. She'd have to spit it out...

"I'm going to miss you!" She blurted, and immediately brought the beer up to her lips again to stop herself from saying anything else stupid, feeling somewhat embarrassed of her spontaneous display of affection, even if it were only verbal. It was scary to show people she cared...

Lyall nodded, his grey blue eyes holding an understanding glint in them as he raised his beer to his lips and drank. His analytic brain immediately started wondering why exactly he was happy to hear that she didn't have exact, specific plans after leaving Hogwarts. He ventured to wonder if it was because part of him wished she would change her mind and stay on as a professor. He tried not to think of this as someone else leaving him because this was certainly not the time to be wallowing in an endless pit of self-pity and selfishness.

Her sudden confession had him smiling genuinely at her, a warmth touching his eyes that pushed away all of his previous thoughts. Bronte's words seemed rushed and sincere tinged with a little embarrassment, but Lyall could only smile at her. With his free hand, he reached over and laid on her upper arm, rubbing her arm warmly for a few moments. "I"m going to miss you too, Bronte," he told her earnestly and then in true Lyall fashion added, "I was sure you were just being my friend because you felt sorry for the tall, lanky Charms professor who had more books than mates." He shook his head and laughed at himself and then took his hand back after realizing he had been touching her for a prolonged moment. He busied himself with another swallow of his beer as he glanced away from her hazel eyes.

"I'm sure Sorley will miss you too, you know," he volunteered off-handedly, his heart squeezing a little as he thought of his son. "He always seemed to like hanging about your office more than mine anyway," he recalled with a smile.

Bronte wasn't afraid of affection, of comforting a friend, or of showing her feelings to people who were special to her. She always told her family that she loved them (save for her father), and there was unlimited space in her heart. If this moment was an indication of anything, it was that she was now more comfortable around Lyall than ever. In the past couple of hours, she had hugged her students goodbye, wiped away tears, and left what she hoped would be a lasting imprint on their lives. If she could do nothing else in this world, she would be happy to help the younger witches and wizards of Hogwarts... It made her happier than anything to see the smiles on their faces, to share in their woes, and help them up when they fell down. She didn't know that teaching would feel this way, and she hadn't expected to feel so... Well, maternal... It only increased her the dread she felt when facing departure.

She didn't shy away from the contact he made on her arm, and instead of blushing or letting herself continue to be embarrassed by her statement, she quickly resolved to accept this connection they had made with one another. Maybe it was his words of acceptance and his echo of her sentiments that changed her mind, but she was relieved to hear them no less.

In school, she cared little for Lyall, but she had come to realize that he, too, was an amazing member of the Trickett family, even if he hadn't been Gryffindor like her. Lyall was careful and thoughtful, and she respected that now that she understood him better. She wasn't made nervous by his gentle touch - in fact, this display of comfortable affection reaffirmed her feelings about the friendship that had developed between them. She smiled tenderly in response, feeling the tight grip of sadness on her heart. She laughed bitterly when he joked at his own expense, shaking her head and distracting from the wetness welling up in her eyes in one fell swoop.

"Oh, don't break my heart!" She wailed in protest in mention of Lyall's son, Sorley. Sorley was a good friend of hers as well! She didn't see him nearly as often as she did his father, but she would miss him, too. Bronte bit down on her cheek and frowned, while he mentioned the boy's affection for her brightly-colored office with all of the cool things she kept. She put a sad hand on her chest and placed her beer down on the countertop, abandoning it at half-full.

"Honestly, though," she started, returning to the sentimentality she found herself drowning in before. "You really helped me get through this school year. Thank you."

She felt an urging to leave now that she had said her peace and put her sappiness out there in the open. She should stop herself from drinking any further, and she shifted uneasily in the plans she was formulating. If she made an escape now she could save herself from possible embarrassment, but she felt shameful for getting antsy and wanting to isolate and be sad alone in her room instead of hanging with Lyall and the other professors. She wasn't sure if he noticed her change in behaviors, but she felt the need to excuse them immediately.

"I might head back up to the castle," She mused, wincing in the way a person does when presenting an unpopular opinion. "Bars aren't really my scene anymore... I prefer armchairs and tea nowadays." She breathed a laugh, sticking her hand in her pocket, thinking how much Hogwarts had changed her.

Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the just the long day they had both had, maybe it was the fact that goodbyes had never been that easy for Lyall, but he could see the flicker of emotion in her eyes and he felt it mirrored in his own gaze. He smiled as she protested his comments about Sorley and put an effort into looking contrite. Their banter was always something he enjoyed and certainly something he would miss. He wondered if he were to owl her, if it would feel the same..

Her return to something a little more serious had him nodding though shrugging. He really didn't know how to take a compliment so he felt himself turning it right back around. "You're welcome," he started then a crooked smile tilted up his lips. "But you probably would have got on without me here. I swear I've never seen students take to a new professor like they did with you." He smiled with the memories, only speaking truth. His son was only the first example that came to mind. It was easy for him to see that Bronte was an expert at winning others over in the most effortless way.

As she told him her plans, Lyall felt an acute sense of pain. He wanted her to stay longer, to keep talking, to not have their friendship come to an end. But his good manners and civility won out. "Sure, of course. I can accompany you on the walk up.. if you'd like?" he offered as he stood, having no issue with picking her over hanging at the pub for a little while longer.

Prepared to abandon both a beer and her coworkers for the last time, Bronte felt a twinge of guilt as she watched her words of escape pass over Lyall's features. She tore her eyes away immediately, too worried he would catch her looking to see what he thought of the proposition. She was, of course, gauging his reaction... Even if just slightly!

He was right about the job she had done here - the students did seem to connect with her. Perhaps it was her brightly-colored clothing choices, or her chipper outlook on life. Maybe it was her scatterbrained lessons or her reluctance to fail even the worst students, but she would miss the hell out of them all...

Anyway, It was best not to dwell! She was about the turn the page to the last one of the chapter, and she would have to deal with that whether it was enjoyable or otherwise.

His offer came as somewhat of a relief, but she felt badly for feeling that way... She shouldn't take him away from his work-friends (though, wasn't she a work-friend?), or a work-party when they were meant to be celebrating the passing year. She felt guilty that he was perpetuating her unhealthy and unnatural need to self-isolate when she was sad, but loved and cherished him for understanding that she did and offering to ditch with her. 'What a good friend,' she thought, fighting the threat of tears again.

"I'd like that I think." Her mouth stretched into a quintessential toothy grin. "Thank you."