Erin was hot, blood boiling in his veins, skin stretching over his knuckles bone-white tight, kicking desks in the empty classroom and yelling at students who stuck their heads in. He hadn't been this angry in months. He hadn't let himself be this angry in months. But a bloke had to vent sometime or else he was just gonna explode, and better to explode in here than on the next bugger who bumped his shoulder in class. No brawling, no pranks, taking lip from the other students, sitting around the common room trying to study every night, it wasn't worth this constant frustration, this anger building up, his need to get it out. He couldn't run around outside or someone might report him acting crazy, couldn't get it out the healthy way with him and someone else's fists unless he wanted to lose the only thing he'd ever been good at. He loved his position and he hated it too. Captain was a piss-poor substitute for being able to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. This whole school thing was a sham, just something else to struggle his way through until he could get picked up by a real team. And the Tournament! What a bloody joke! He'd come in second to last after the bloke who fell into a plant trap and instead of keeping Razzy in France it gave him a reason to be right back at home, sucking faces off birds in the corridor like last year had never happened.

He couldn't touch anything or anyone - he couldn't leave any marks - he couldn't even wade through the hordes of complete berks that populated the halls and just grab the one whose visage most needed rearranging. Nooo, he was respectable now, Harper wasn't anyone to be scared of any more. His brother had him on a short leash. Fucking Landis. Fucking Hogwarts.

Erin slammed his fist into the wall, the only part of the classroom he couldn't break. He hissed out an angry half snarl, half gasp, spurred on by the white-hot burn as the skin over his knuckles split. It was the first injury he'd gotten outside of Quidditch in months, when he used to get them all the time and wear them proudly. It felt good, but the snapping of the desks would be so much more satisfying.

Nightingale, had heard of the little fit that Erin was throwing long before he swore he felt the walls shake. His office, not far, rattled with the tantrum that the Young Master Harper released, and enough so that he stopped backing his weekend bag. Chester, would have to wait a little bit longer, he felt the very angst driven hormones of a young teenager like a spider sensed their prey, and started to search through one of his trunks.

"Professor! Professor! Erin Harper is--" A student rushed through the room only to have their words stolen by a flick of Gale's wand,

"I'm very well aware of it Miss Bell, it will be handled." He didn't even look up before finding the velvet bag that held a set of boxing gloves and slipped past her with a rather dry unamused look. It was strange to see him like this, or so the student thought, Gale always had a way of smiling even without his lips--but all of that was gone, just as he stepped out into the hall.

"Your temper is legendary, Mister Harper, but never would I have thought to see such a careless act of violence from you." Everything about Gale's tone was mocking him--everything, "That poor stone. What-ever did it do to you?"

Oh, yeah, perfect. Professor Kesali. 'Cos what Erin really needed was another pissy blonde bloke getting sarcastic at him.

"Well, then you obviously don't know me very well," Erin said through gritted teeth. "Sir." Kesali was here to make him stop. How completely unfair. He punctuated the thought with another blow to the wall, the collision reverberating with the dull snap of skin on stone. Erin laughed. "Better this than another student, yeah?"

"I suppose." Gale said with a blank face, and a pale perfectly sculpted brow arched when Erin took another strike.

"Right..." The comment came out very skeptical, and he flinched with the sound of the boy's skin breaking, "Until you ruin your knuckles forever, and want to hit like a little bitch for the rest of your life."  With that he threw the velvet bag at Erin, "Put em' on, and show me what you got." Turning his back on Erin long enough to flick his wand the chairs and tables all moved to the walls, and it gave them enough room. His own set of gloves waited by the door, and he turned to lace them on.

"Until you ruin your knuckles forever, and want to hit like a little bitch for the rest of your life."

Erin sneered, an ugly expression of disbelief. Like he could do anything that Nagde couldn't fix. If anyone would hit like a little bitch around here, it sure wasn't him. These fists had knocked Dax Fayette's fat head silly, broke his teeth, beat him raw. Ha! Erin'd always given as good as he got.

The bag he caught automatically, Seeker's reflexes kicking in before he even registered what was being thrown at him. He pulled the gloves out of the bag and gave Gale a dark look, never having seen boxing gloves before nor - given Erin's flash-fire temper and high pain threshold - seeing a use for them. "What're these supposed to be?" The desks and chairs all skittered away from the center of the floor, clearing up a space, and the professor had begun to lace a pair of padded gloves onto his own hands. What the hell? It looked and sounded like... he wanted to fight.

No way. There was no way. Kesali was a tiny fairy of a man, all long hair and women's earrings, plus he was a professor. Erin had done all sorts of stuff but he'd never tried to start anything with a professor. A chap could get in all sorts of deep shit for that, even expelled. Everything about Gale pissed him off, from the way he dressed to the way he looked, the way he'd walked in here with that stupid raised eyebrow like Erin was a two-year-old throwing a tantrum. But Erin knew he would have hated anyone who'd come in on him now. Just 'cos he felt it didn't mean he could act on it - a lesson he was still struggling with. Gale's continued presence wasn't making his impulses any easier to control.

He wasn't sure what to think about this. He wanted Kesali out of here so he could keep going, he still wanted to hit things - and break things - and scream. He watched Gale warily, with a slow sullen anger. Wasn't he going to tell on him, give him detention or something?

Teenagers. Fearless as ever. They were indestructible, and clearly able to take on the world. Gale watched him with an amused look, as he felt himself being judged, and a careful smirk pulled over his hidden lips.

"They are muggle boxing gloves, Mon ami." He started as he pulled the string with his teeth. Tight enough they wouldn't come off, but not laced all the way as the act would be rather difficult. But he doubted either of them really truly needed the set.

"And I would suggest you put them on," He closed the distance between them to help if the boy needed, but gave him that rather dry unamused look once more, "Unless you would rather we go speak with the school counselor about your anger, and talk about your feelings. Which we both would rather pull teeth over I'm sure." It wasn't that he didn't care, because he did. Greatly. Gale just knew Erin's type. He would rather bloody his knuckles that talk about his inner demons, and Gale couldn't have that.

Erin's lips pulled away from his teeth in what was mostly certainly not a smile. He'd grown over the summer, now more man than boy. There was an evident strength in his arms and shoulders, a dangerous set to the way he carried himself. When he bristled like this, there was no one who would think to ruffle his hair anymore - and the impression that anyone who tried would lose a hand.

"Don't talk French at me."

Nevertheless he began to roughly pull the gloves on, brow furrowing as he tried to lace them. They felt weird, constricting and oddly juvenile, like mittens put on a babe to keep it from scratching itself. Heavy, too. Erin swung his arms experimentally. Muggles were so strange.

"Miss B and I are old mates," he muttered, but it wasn't really a protest. He liked Maiko well enough because she gave him food and was easy to be around, but this kind of mood took more than biscuits to banish. Her kind eyes and heavy accent would only make him angrier, just like Kesali's mon amis and smirk did now. Stupid French people. There was no way he was talking about his feelings with either of them.

He looked up at Gale, a little resigned to... holding back, if he had to. Punching each other with leather pillows. Whatever this was going to be. He put his fists up without enthusiasm, fingers already getting sweaty inside the gloves.

“Boy, I will speak to you how I please and in any language I chose. Especially when you go making commands like that. I think you are forgetting who is the alpha around here. Now. Stop delaying, Student--and hit your teacher.”

Gale bounced on his toes a moment, remembering how they always called him the white rabbit growing up, and he tried to keep his feet on the floor. But this was exciting! Erin Harper, with all of his anger issues certainly needed a little more guidance, but clearly nothing had worked. He would get flack about this choice, no doubt, but right now all Gale truly cared about was making sure this boy had himself a different outlet then punching a wall until his knuckles broke.

“Grit your teeth, I’d hate for you to go to the Yule Ball without a few.” He teased. He wouldn’t hit the boy hard enough, and doubts were Erin would even land one punch on him. Yet, he still worried.

His words were not his own, Gale would hardly ever speak like that to a student, but he wanted to keep the anger going. He wanted to pull it out like a charmer did a snake, as it kept him blind—enough that he wouldn’t pull away from the blow that followed to the boy’s stomach.

Nightingale, pulled his punches in the last moment, but it was still enough to be recognized. It wouldn't hurt, not for someone as tough as Erin. The normal reaction was to pull up, the other boy would (or so Gale prepared for) bring his strike where he would see the Professor open, but Gale banked on him being blinded by his anger to not notice how his feet switched positions so that way he could throw his weight into another hit along side his face.

If anything, Erin's snarl got more pronounced. He would have walked out then and there - and fuck whatever authority Gale thought he had over him - except, well, he so rarely got asked to hit his professors.

Even convinced it would come back to bite him in the arse, he couldn't turn down an opportunity like this.

He sidled closer, arms loose and ready at his sides, fists raised, eyeing Gale for the first physical cues. His mouth twitched at the man's next words with something that - in a better mood - might have been amusement. There was more appeal to going to the ball sans teeth than in his fancy dress robes. Someone had to shake all the guests up a bit. "Tie your hair back," he shot back, more a challenge in his words than there had been in Gale's tease. "I'd hate to see it get in the way."

This wasn't actually Erin's first time at the rodeo, and the banter did little to distract him when Gale struck. He breathed out, tensing his stomach and dancing backwards to take the punch so that he could in turn take advantage of the other man's open position. The blow was reduced to barely a tap, and not just because of the gloves. The bastard had pulled his punch! Erin was throwing a punch of his own at Gale's face but the man had changed his footing by then to return the favor. He missed, but so did Gale, both their momentum angling them to skim cheekbones without landing.

There was still a heat thrumming in his blood and in his bones, so Erin didn't stop to muse over Gale's speed and ambidextrous style. Instead he registered it without conscious thought as, arm already extended past Gale's face, he threw his shoulder into the professor's chest and bore him back towards the floor where he might get in a quick blow and then roll away back to his feet. On the floor was never a good place to be in a fight - but being on the bottom was worse. Erin was used to being the smaller and lighter of the opponents, and he wanted to use this unexpected advantage. He landed with his full weight behind both elbows to Gale's stomach, never having learned to fight any way but dirty.

"You won't touch my hair, son. Can't get close enough. Going to get your ass kicked by a man wearing earrings." He grinned to challenge the boy, "I promise I won't tell anyone."

Fighting dirty was what made the world go round, his father would have instantly taken to the boy. If Erin thought this was going to be a posh and polished match he had another thing coming. Gale, for what it was worth had always been the tiny one in battles, so being on his back was something he used to his advantage at best he could. His nimble quick motions had him roll the boy back, and on his feet quickly.

"So what's my name?" He asked him raising his fists again waiting for Erin to attack this time, "Am I student? Or a teacher? A girlfriend? Boyfriend? Your parents? Whoever it is that has you so upset, here is your chance." Gale touched his own gloves to his chest to edge the boy on.

Erin gave an irritated chuff of breath but didn't respond. Gale was looking to get his earrings torn off if he wasn't careful. Bloody stupid wearing something like that in a fight. He couldn't do it well with his fingers all squashed in these gloves but otherwise he'd have given them a yank just to prove he could.

Gale was out from under him in a second, unexpectedly quick and without giving him the opportunity to get his fists better acquainted with the man's kidneys. He was fast to his feet as well and, given less to wary circling and more to crazy charging, would have been off again like a shot except that Gale started to talk.

Erin looked at him like he'd started spouting poetry, partially because what he thought what Gale was saying was stupid and partially because after the way they'd landed he hadn't expected Gale to be able to do anything but wheeze. One could almost see the question marks over the boy's head, mixed in with some unsavory words and exclamation marks too. "You're a nutter, that's what you are." But it was tempting, having the professor motioning towards himself like that. Setting himself up all pretty for a beating. Erin bared his teeth again. Though it was no smile, there was a vicious sort of joy in his expression, in being able to actually let loose.

It was better not to think about things, and to get Gale to a point where he was so busy fending Erin off he couldn't think about things either, much less question the Slytherin. Now he was focused too, and that siphoned off some of his mad rage to die in a less important place as it was meant to do. Fighting had always cleared his head. He usually ended up laughing at the end of brawls even if he was laughing through blood. Though he was still reckless and restless and wanted to hurt, that Gale was fast enough to evade him made this already almost fun. He just had to find a way to get around the dulling effect of these silly gloves. If the pointy end of his elbows hadn't made a difference, soon Erin was going to have to bite him. Bite a professor! He'd never done that yet.

"Mmmm yes, I've heard that before, but I'm also not the one beating up on stones. The best you got?" Gale taunted him, though he grinned, rather admiring the boy's strength and enjoying the fight. He could tell that Erin was calming, at least to the point he wasn't so blind in his rage, but he wasn't going to give in easy. The hit hurt, but nothing he couldn't handle.

"But you've not found my weakness, boy. Have you?" Gale lunged forward his fists moving fast, his weight on the tips of his toes as he slammed into the boy in the most aggressive attack yet. One, two. One, two, two , two two. One, two, one. Left and right he wasn't giving in, nor giving Erin much room to advance.

"Keep your eyes up!" He commanded breaking enough to dance around the boy, and demanding of him just as much but when Gale lifted his left he exposed his midsection. He was still pulling his punches, but not enough that they didn't hit gently. If the ones he threw hit at all, there would be marks left even if only temporary redness. Gale would no doubt have a bruise where Erin used his elbow, but he'd be damned before he admitted it.

"You are very good at this." He finally subsided enough to breathe, "Your family do this often?"

"Mmmm yes, I've heard that before, but I'm also not the one beating up on stones."

Well. Fair point. Erin rolled his shoulders, then smirked. Come get me. Gale did.

He knew what this was but for several minutes he couldn't break out of it, too busy fending off every one of Gale's blows to regain the offensive. It took serious concentration and good instincts to keep the professor from getting past his guard. He was going to have some bruises tomorrow along his forearms where he'd blocked them, he thought, but he couldn't really be sure. Not with the gloves. Every hit that landed, that he shrugged off or deflected, was like a little love tap in comparison to what it would have been in a real brawl. None of it hurt a bit. "Hah!" The sound was explosive and deeply offended, forced from the mostly-breathless boy who didn't have the time or thought to make actual words. Some bloody nerve, giving him fighting advice! For a moment it surged back, that anger, and he used it to bear back on the man. Still blocking and deflecting Gale's hits with his arms he started forward, forcing the other man backwards with his face twisted all up in a scowl.

He threw Gale's arms out to the side and Gale wheeled away again, one of those dancer fighters who never stayed in one place. Erin knew all about that. He'd used to be one of them, back when he was smaller and lighter and easier for the opponent to throw around if they caught ahold of him. He was still fast and lean, but he was pretty sure he'd never pranced like that. It wasted energy, dodging around like that, feinting and stuff. He'd learned that this year too. 'Course, Erin rarely worried about wasting energy, and it seemed "grin and bear it" might not be the best way to approach this fight. Back to the mad weasel approach. What a relief.

"Oh, yeah. My mum's got a mean right hook." He sneered, though he also puffed out his chest a bit. Damn right he was good at this. "And my baby sister, well, don't let her big eyes fool you." What exactly was the professor trying to get at with these questions? Erin leapt at him before he could respond, wishing again that he didn't have the gloves on so he could use his hands. A quick yank of that hair would have pulled Gale's head down beautifully for a knee to the nose. But, he had gathered by now this wasn't supposed to be a painful thing. Initially excited by someone willing to tussle, he was less enthused about how Gale seemed to have some sort of learning or bonding opportunity in mind.

Erin hadn't agreed to that. He took a few quick jabs for Gale's stomach, trying to get the man to drop his guard long enough for the old one-two, then immediately leapt to the side again before diving right back in.

Suddenly, Gale wished he'd worn different attire for this. The air was hot despite the cool nature of the castle, and a careless sheen of sweat started to build over his alabaster skin. He'd remove his shirt, if he wanted to lose his job. There was no doubt in his mind that the last thing a student wanted to see was their professor half clothed, his tattoo, scars, and nipple piercing. Erin would probably vomit, and then he'd have another mess to clean up. However, the heat was starting to get to him, but still Gale pressed on.


The little quip about Erin's mother and baby sister being skilled fighters had a smirk of his own playing on the edges of his lips, and he couldn't help what fell next--

"I hope they hit harder than you. As it stands my grandmother has a better right hook." Which wasn't far from the truth, that old gypsy hag could have manhandled them both across her knee.

Gale did drop his guard, in a little bit of laughter that was quickly silenced when Erin got the upper hand. The one--two hit hard, but the strike to his blind side, where Erin leapt[1] face had the color drain from Gale's skin as he took to one knee while covering his blind eye with his glove. He held up his other glove to pause the fight a moment, and spit the blood from his mouth.

"That's good," He said weakly, "Found my weak spot." The entire side of his face twitched like some sort of demented rabbit as if there was nerve damage, but it went away. Merlin, he felt old.

1.	I'm pretty sure that's how I read that, if not let me know. I'll change

"I'd like to meet your grandma, then!" Rather than taking offense, Erin laughed at the thought. "She must be a tough old bitch."

He almost whimpered when Gale held up a hand to halt the fight. Pausing - what was this pausing? There weren't any pauses in a real fight! Damn right he'd found his weak spot, and he'd like to pursue it. But he couldn't go after a professor like that, and Erin knew it. Reluctantly he ground to a stop, his fists hanging loosely, and stared at Gale with a expression that said, now? now? ....now?