12:05 p.m.



It probably went without saying, that Theo Whitman knew a lot of things.


Ruthless, unscrupulous, and not a little bit cruel, it would probably surprise exactly no one that the steps he took to “learn” things were what other (lesser) people would equate to psychological thrillers, diplomatically discussed extortion and, aha, cruel and unusual punishment. It was a subtle process, what he did; the minds of his peers were petty, self-absorbed things, consumed by silly fears and insecurities, that appealing to them – positively or negatively – was simply a matter of interests and emotional states. Stress, boredom, panic and paranoia… Sometimes, a compliment or two did the trick; sometimes, it took more.

‘Force’ was just a matter of perspective, really. Theo preferred the word ‘nudge’.

Of course, that wasn’t to say all his information was questionably gained. While indubitably fun, it was also, regrettably, anything but failproof. One couldn’t totally control the tongues of others—and his hold over the ones he did was remarkably better than most. Besides, some friendships did have their perks. Certainly the one he had with the Dueling Club’s president never failed to bring a faint smile to his face.

He was still smiling when the trophy room turned out not to be so empty after all, and instead boasted the one person he was looking for. Pushing the door open, Theo leaned against the frame, his brightening in a way that brought to mind sunshine and robed choirs and… chubby little things with trumpets. It was a very nice smile. “Bevans,” Theo drawled, grinning, genuinely pleased to find him. “Smoking again?”

Nicholas had retreated at lunch to the trophy room instead of the Great Hall, where he'd rather have been, but as usually happened with his homework, it was nearly due and he wasn't finished.  He still had a couple inches to write for his defense essay.  And the trophy room he'd discovered years ago was rarely visited, and didn't have the distractions of the common room.  It also provided a good place to practice spells without interruption other than the random pet roaming around the castle now that the first years had all finished looking at awards given to family members during their time at the school.

He was sitting on the floor against one of the display cases, the parchment floating in the air in front of him as his quill flowed across the surface, filling the space required as quickly as he could.  He really wanted to get something to eat before class almost as much as he wanted to stop having to write.  He was still scratching away at essay when the door opened soundlessly, startling him when he heard a voice say his name. 

"No, Whitman.  But I could use one," He said before writing a couple more words and snatching the parchment out of the air and rolling it up.  He was close enough to the required length, and his wandwork would make up for the difference.  It always had.  "You don't happen to have one on you?  Or a sandwich?"  He pushed his stuff back into his bag, stretching before standing up, any amount of time hunched over homework was too long and left him feeling tense.  And certain people, including the taller Slytherin with that damn grin on his face, didn't leave him feeling relaxed.  Which was why he was definitely avoiding looking at Theo now as he rearranged some things in his bag.  "Did you need something?  Or do you just have a thing for door frames?" Nicholas asked.

“It’s an affliction,” Theo tossed back easily, pushing off said frame to step inside the room. As they were wont to do, his hands tucked themselves into his pockets, and his smile unfurled into a sly grin. Nicholas’ refusal to meet his eyes wasn’t lost on him. “Like bravery, some might say,” but it was a gentle jibe.

As Nicholas busied himself with the contents of his bag, Theo strolled over to him, casting the room a nonchalant glance along the way. One day his name would be immortalized here at least once. “In a rush, Bevans?” he drawled, looming over the other boy unrepentantly– just an inch closer than social niceties usually allowed. Briefly, he drew close, until his breath ghosted the very top of the shell of an ear. “I’m hurt,” his voice murmured—and then he was moving away.

“I came all this way to find you, too,” Theo sighed as he meandered to a stop in front of one trophy. Head cocked to the side in obvious inspection, the Slytherin traced a finger along the brim. His distorted reflection smiled back at him crookedly. “Thought you’d be interested– in what I have to say,” he added, grinning at the Gryffindor over his shoulder, and let it fall carelessly in a half-shrug. “Ah, well.”

---

Nicholas glared down at his bag, hand clenched around his wand at the comment about bravery.   He'd show the snake what courage was, he was pretty sure he could win a fight against the Slytherin, or at least leave it a draw in the end.  It would only take a moment to pull his wand from his bag, but in that moment he contemplated what curse would wipe the grin from the other boy's face, Nicholas's personal space had been invaded.  He went completely still, not moving and barely taking a breath.  The hair on the back of his neck standing on end as Nicholas felt Theo's breath on his ear.

"I didn't think anything short the cruciatus curse would hurt you," Nicholas shot back after the Slytherin moved away from him and he had control over his body again.  He  started to lift his bag over his shoulder before he realized what the other boy was saying. 

"Wait, what.  Why."He said, finally meeting Theo's gaze.  He pulled his wand out of his bag, dropping the wand into a pocket and the bag to the floor.  "Quit molesting that trophy and tell me what you came all this way to tell me."

The finger paused. Looking back at Nicholas, Theo smirked. “Flattery may get you everywhere, Bevans, but I don’t think you’re quite ready for that yet,” he drawled, unperturbed as he gave the other boy a glance. It crept up the Gryffindor’s back like a spider, deliberate and considering.

In a similar fashion, that same smile bloomed when Nicholas finally met his gaze—although it nearly withered of exasperation in the same breath, when Nicholas pulled out his wand. Merlin save him from Gryffindors and their completely moronic ways. With a cocked brow of complete and utter judgment, Theo stared down Nicholas’ impatience, unimpressed. “For your sake, please don’t presume you’re actually threatening me,” he said, with something akin to pity. That’s what one did, with the deluded. “Because while disabusing you of that notion would be fun, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. After all…”

And then his smile turned sharp. Completely uncaring of the threat that drawn wand posed, Theo sauntered up to Nicholas until– even a couple of feet away –he was towering over him again. “You’re not quite the same level as me anymore, are you?” Theo murmured, peering down at Nicholas as he scanned his face—the way one would when one searched for imperfections, expecting them. “At least, not officially,” and he took a step back, grinning still.

"It wasn't meant to be flattery," Nicholas muttered as Theo's scrutiny sent a shiver through his body.  Nope, definitely not flattery.  He held the Slytherin's stare, refusing now to back down from the taller boy, even as he again moved in closer to Nicholas.  Even being forced to look up didn't quite affect him like it used to before he had a wand and knew how to use it.

As Theo moved in, Nicholas moved his wand up into position, a now unconscious reaction to a threat.  "I promise you, it wouldn't be fun for you."  Or himself either, but despite the snake's cockiness, there was no doubt at all in his own mind that while he might end up in the hospital hut, he wouldn't be going alone.

His own insecurity about his height left him with only one way to take Theo's statement, and in the past would have been a guaranteed way to start curses flying, and now was still the quickest way to fan Nicholas's temper.  "Your level?"  He said, his voice colored with anger as liquid fire dripped from his wand dissipating in a puff of smoke as it hit the stone floor. 

"Officially!  What the hell does that mean?!"  Nicholas all but shouted, stepping forward and closing the distance between the two of them, his wand now dangerously close to Theo's chest and still dripping with liquid fire.

It didn’t surprise Alex to find that Theo had decided not to visit the Great Hall for lunch, as the sound levels were intolerable, but had she predicted an alternative location, the trophy room would not have been it. Even less likely was the presence, once again, of Bevans. In such a small space of time, too, were Bevans not trying to commit arson she might suspect something. But the meeting certainly wasn’t amicable, if his apoplectic expression and the fire dripping hazardously from the tip of his wand were anything to go by. His lack of concern for school property was deplorable.

Theo seemed to be handling the situation he’d doubtless provoked admirably, but Alex wasn’t particularly impressed by his sang-froid. Bevans was a little too quick to anger for it to be alarming, not that it meant that he was to be dismissed; an angry wizard in possession of a wand was, regardless of her opinion of their ability, still an angry wizard in possession of a wand. Her eyes moved away from it reluctantly, flicking between the two boys.

“Bevans, Theo, we must stop meeting like this,” Alex lamented, “I always feel as though I’m intruding, it’s most uncomfortable.” Her focus shifted to the wand, and the flames it was producing, an eyebrow arching in feigned surprise before returning to Theo’s expression.

"Practicing for class, Bevans?" She asked, voice level, "how sensible. I've found the patronus charm difficult myself, it's never quite corporeal. But since you've amply proved your ability to cast that spell, perhaps you should try something else, that isn't quite so… incendiary. If Theo's been upsetting you, I'm sure there are other ways of taking out your frustrations. Setting him alight less literally might be more pleasant for both of you.”

Feeling that, since she was trying to diffuse the situation before a teacher arrived, taking up her wand would be counterproductive, Alex nevertheless moved her hand fractionally, watching Bevans intently. Rolling around on the floor was not an efficient method of extinguishing fire.

As Nicholas’ wand dripped and sputtered– practically foaming at the mouth, like its owner– Theo’s smile twisted into something dark and savage. Even more disquieting, the look in his eyes never wavered—and the shift in expression was completely, utterly seamless, as if it had never changed at all.

As if it were natural.

A bit of spark, a lick of flame... It was absurd, really, what others thought would daunt him. If anything, he only seemed delighted by the threat—excited, even; there was no telling what would have happened next, had Alex not appeared.

Her brusque manner not unlike a whisper in his ear, Theo visibly relaxed. The nasty grin melted away, giving way to that familiar, irritatingly placid smile everyone knew and – ha ha – loved.

“I apologize,” he cooed, tone gentle with scorn as he smirked at Nicholas. Leisurely, he waved the Gryffindor’s wand to the side with the back of his hand, noting the trickling flames with something akin to boredom. Give him a day, and his spit would be more caustic than that. “Was I upsetting you? I only sought to inform you. I thought Bevans should know about his demotion, Alex,” Theo glanced at her, mouth curving into an apologetic smile. “It doesn’t seem fair to him – or Harcroft, I suppose – to go on like this, unaware they’ve been ranked intermediate since day one.”

Nicholas glanced at Alex as she spoke, but made sure to keep most of his attention on Theo.  No sense holding a wand on someone if you weren't looking at them.  And it was never wise to turn your back on a snake. "I'm not practicing? Incendi--Damnit."  He muttered, finally seeing what his wand was doing even as Theo pushed the wand out to the side, with a flick of his wand the flames disappeared completely leaving behind a bit of smoke and the smell of burnt dust.

Stowing his wand back in his pocket to keep and further incidents from occurring, since now that there was a witness, he turned to Alex, trying his best to ignore the taunting of the Slytherin.  Though he'd be lucky if his wand didn't start reacting to his emotions again and burn a hole in his pants.  And probably burn himself too.

"What does he mean by demotion? And intermediate?" He asked, trying to keep his voice calm, and failing miserably, since he was sure he knew what Theo meant.  Especially with Alexandra there, he might not be a Ravenclaw but he wasn't an idiot.  But he wanted to hear it from her.  His anger might not be misplaced when it came to the taller boy, but it might have another legitimate target as well.

Alex’s opinions of Theo were, for the most part, positive, but his habit of stirring trouble was only amusing when it wasn’t going to reflect directly onto her. It wasn’t calamitous, but while she’d initially assumed that having an audience would calm the two idiots students down, if Theo was determined to press on, it would only worsen the situation.

Unfortunately, Nick had exceeded her expectations of his intelligence, managing to add two and two to make four, and while he’d managed to get a grip, he was still less than happy with the situation. If Alex was sympathetic in any way, it was because Theo had been deliberately riling him up, but his demotion was entirely his own fault and she didn’t care if it hurt his pride.

"Exactly what he said. You were moved to the intermediate group,” Alex said succinctly, not sounding apologetic in the least. “More because of your lack of control than your actual ability,” her gaze moved deliberately to his wand, which was fortunately not producing flames any more, although if Bevans’ trousers were set on fire it would provide a useful distraction.

“Why? Would you like to make a complaint?” The suggestion was a measure to placate Nick; accordingly, it was said in a bland, almost considering fashion. If anything, this incident had cemented her opinion of his inability to keep himself from lashing out.

More than familiar with Alex’s subtle nuances of tone, Theo took a casual step back– which wasn’t to be mistaken with backing away, if that slowly growing grin was anything to go by, but merely in the context of getting a better view; between Nicholas’ growing outrage and Alex’s indifference, the exchange was, to the Slytherin, looking increasingly promising.

Perhaps it made him a terrible friend, directing a Gryffindor’s temper onto her without warning or provocation; perhaps he might redeem himself if he blocked her from Nicholas’s view. But because he wasn’t looking for awards or redemption, he didn’t care, and besides– they weren’t friends because he was kind.

As the other boy’s voice cracked with outrage, Theo’s smirk grew. How very Gryffindor, he thought, to let one’s temper get the better of oneself. It would never stop being amusing. “In writing, perhaps,” the prefect mused aloud to Alex, eyeing Nicholas with interest, as one would when encountered with a particularly interesting, but not especially intelligent monkey. “Because he seems to be having trouble even speaking at the moment—even though those were perfectly valid reasons.”

What was it with Gryffindors and good sense? They seemed to have a very hostile relationship.

Nicholas glared at Theo, "I can speak perfectly fine. But if you want it in writing I can etch it into your forehead."  He didn't understand how his lack of control affected his skill level.  Especially since if they were so sure he'd lose control, which he wasn't sure he had in a duel, wouldn't it be better to have him dueling someone of his skill level.  And he hadn't hexed Theo, which definitely showed a great deal of control. 

"And yes, Alex.  I'd like to make a complaint.  Starting with, why does he know this before I do?"  He said after turning his glare from the Slytherin to the Ravenclaw. 

"I've been perfectly well under control.  I haven't seriously injured anyone.  How many other people have you told this too?  Everyone in the club already know?  Or just him?  You both getting a right laugh behind my back?  For how long?  How long ago did you decide this?"  He was trying to keep his emotions in check, but his anger was obvious in every inch of his body.  The tightness of his voice, his fist obviously wanting to go for his wand or a face, and a stance that tried to make him larger than he was.

The corner of Alex’s mouth twitched before her exasperation at the situation overtook her amusement. Bevans’ self-righteous anger was exceedingly tiresome; it was little consolation that Theo, at least, was enjoying himself when she was being forced to explain herself to an idiot with no sense of perspective and, no matter what he claimed, an appalling lack of self control.

“I wouldn’t laugh behind your back,” she promised, sighing as though her answer should be obvious, “I would laugh in your face.” It wasn’t the nicest way of putting it, but if he was so deluded as to think she had nothing better to discuss than his rank in Duelling Club, he didn’t deserve anything resembling niceness from her. And, although he didn’t know it, the demotion was old news, making the reaction now seem even more disproportionate to her.

“And as for your claim that you’re perfectly under control” Alex sneered, “Don’t be ludicrous Bevans, a moment ago your wand burst into flames because you were throwing a tantrum, and now you’re threatening a prefect.” Pulling rank - or drawing attention to Theo’s rank - was a little distasteful, but since her answers would likely only upset Bevans more, something was needed to remind him that attempting to hex her wasn’t the appropriate response.

Her attention moved to Theo, “Would you say that Bevans’ self-control is perfect? Or, failing that, good? Decent? Poor?”

Not even bothering to disguise his glee as Alex proceeded to thoroughly ream their fellow sixth year a new one, Theo let his gaze rake over the Gryffindor, the move quick and insulting, the curl to his grin obvious and cruel. With every threat and accusation spat at their feet, it only grew more obvious that it would take days– if not weeks –to make Nicholas understand—which, of course, begged the question if he was even capable of understanding. Theo, in all his wisdom, rather suspected not. “Certainly not perfect,” he drawled, eyes on Nicholas as he cocked his head to the side, as if in consideration. “Sloppy, perhaps,” and oh, there was real laughter in his voice now.

Briefly, almost apologetically, blue eyes widened, “it did take you a while to realize you were dripping.”

Without waiting for a response he faced Alex then, with something akin to sympathy. “Gryffindors. They get angry so quickly,” he said softly, in conciliatory tones. And he was sincere; without even a modicum of amount of effort, he had gotten Nicholas half-sputtering with rage. He pitied– or in Alex’s case, sympathized with– anyone who had to deal with such short tempers, merely because the ones who owned said tempers couldn’t control themselves. “Did you see how quickly he jumped to conclusions? Expecting him to understand with minimum assistance may be too much to hope for, if he hasn’t realized anything himself by now.

“But look at it this way, Bevans,” Theo’s attention snapped toward Nicholas again, this time with a breezy smile. “It isn’t as though you’re the only one demoted; Harcroft is, too.” Glancing at the girl beside him, it grew into a playful, affectionate grin. “Alex is nothing if not fair.”

---

Nicholas moved closer to the taller boy, "If my control was sloppy you'd have been defending yourself with something other than that shit-eating grin," he said scornfully.  Being in the same group as Harcroft certainly provided no relief. And Theo's continued amusement was not helping him calm down, and in fact was fueling his already enraged state. 

He stepped toward Alex, being close enough to punch Theo's smug face was likely to end in Nicholas doing just that if he didn't get some space between them before Theo said something else, or laughed, or smiled again, all of which were equally infuriating.

"Laugh wherever you bloody please, but obviously someone has been laughing about it, not exactly model behavior in a prefect wouldn't you say.  And Your good friend the Prefect here seems to be enjoying this all too much."  Nicholas said without looking at the Slytherin, who was no doubt looking pleased and otherwise happy with himself.  "And, I'd have thought a Ravenclaw would know this, but a wand can react to its owners emotions.  Doesn't mean I'm out of control.  But then that probably requires one to have emotions to happen,"  he sneered.

"Wait, is this about the duel with Harcroft?  The one where I ended up in the hospital hut?  Godric's Garters! You've got to be bloody kidding me."  That had not been a particularly good day in dueling club.  Which was Alex's damn fault in the first place for pairing him with Harcroft.  His head had hurt for a week. 

"So you wouldn't have seen red just a little bit getting hit—no of course you wouldn't.  This is bloody bullshit," he shouted, exasperated.  Somehow the duel that left him waking up in a different room than he'd started, hell a different damn building, had gotten him demoted.  No, apparently, he was apparently supposed to react to having a solid object smash into the back of his head with the emotionlessness of a Ravenclaw, he thought with disgust.