"You Quidditch people, with your brooms and high places always." Addy is not even thinking about taking points for this, and sighs in the most resigned manner possible while watching Clem inching her way up the tree.

Like a sane person, she begins poking around the underbrush, instead. "How do you make a broomstick? That seems like. Really cool. Does it have to be a certain...could it be this tree?"

Experimentally, she bends a low-hanging branch. It doesn't snap off. So it can't be that tree. She moves on to the next tree instead. Before she can properly evaluate broomstick worthiness, though, Addy notices a feature that isn't really found in most trees.

It's Mr. Elmasry's teenaged picture over and over, cut out of yearbooks and frames. They've been carefully placed in the hollow. It's some kind of hoarde, or maybe more like a shrine. Addy doesn't touch it. Her hands drop, and her face falls slack. A chill runs all the way down her spine and renders her, for once, extremely quiet. She looks around. There's no one here but herself and Clem. But that's never true. When she finally gets words out, her voice is low, like she's afraid they'll hear. "Uh. Whaaat the hell."