After curfew


He made it back into the common room just before midnight, having corralled younger students back as a part of prefectorial duties. The odd third and fourth years who were out late scurried ahead of him and straight to their dormitories - better their beds than whatever scathing remark Virgil might have about their sleeping habits. It had been a worthy errand as part of his intent was to stop by the kitchens as well: to thank the house elves for their forbearance of last week's events.[1]

And to pick up the sweet treats he had left to cool earlier in the evening. The prefect had stove-popped a mass of popcorn, drizzling the crunchy white clouds with honey and ground, roasted almonds. He'd wrapped it all up in muslin cloth and a black bow.

Now, spotting, Jordyn reading at one of her usual perches by the fireplace, Virgil approached her. The green water of the lake threw a weak emerald light at odds with the blazing hearth.

He stopped right in front of the Head Girl with gift in both hands. "Jordyn," his voice was soft but uncharacteristically terse and clear. "Thank you." Virgil extended his arms, dropping the wrapped popcorn into her lap like he was releasing an unruly Kneazle.

1.	Forbidden Fruit - 29th March

The common room had been quiet for quite a while now.  Curfew was over and most students turned in for the evening, well most of them.  Prefects were still patrolling, there were most likely some students wandering about the halls trying to hide out and do whatever it was students were getting up to in the evening.  It wasn’t Jordyn’s concern at the moment though.

It wasn’t her patrol evening and she had NEWTs to study for.  It seemed every spare second she had, she was somewhere with her nose shoved into the pages of one of her heavily marked up textbook.  She had started tucking ready-to-write quills behind her ears at all times incase something came up the fifteenth time she read a chapter she would always have something ready to write. 

With the nib of the pen pressed to the corner of the page, creating its own little mark, Jordyn didn’t register that there was someone else in the common room until she heard her name and only her eyes moved upward.  It was Virgil.  They hadn’t talked since the night in the kitchen, Jordyn completely avoided it and she assumed he was the same way.  So, her surprise was tempered with a little bit of suspicion, even more ingrained when he said thank you.

The little package landed in her lap and Jordyn looked down and then up again.  “What for?” she asked, quite genuinely actually, “did I forget to schedule a patrol for you this week?”

Virgil smirked, moving quietly to the sofa by Jordyn's chair and slipping on to comfortably straddle its arm as he shook his head at the witch. She really did sound surprised. Probably stuffed her brain too full of NEWTs and whatever it was women like Dimbleby worried about when they deigned to cease their stiff toiling.

"My lips," he answered and leaned forward to tug the Potions textbook out of her hands. Virgil flipped it over on to his lap, to read her notes the right way up while he spoke. "You healed them. Thank you."

His indolent gaze fell across the pages while he flipped through the familiar tome. They both took Potions. He was good at it and had taken additional lessons from their previous professor last year - it was the sort of subject you had to keep practicing to score well on. Jordyn's personal annotations were worthwhile.

"Don't worry, I haven't poisoned it." Virgil glanced up at her face and then down at the muslin cloth, pointedly. "It's a token of my gratitude. Prefect's honour," a pale hand went up as if to swear by this unspoken code. His eyes smiled.

Jordyn gasped quietly when Virgil took the book right out of her hands and just let the little bag in its wake.  Honestly, she was a little curious and she couldn’t help that her fingers found their way to the bow and may have just… tugged ever so gently. 

Whatever was inside of the package had a very pleasant aroma and Jordyn had to know.  Besides, it was something to focus on while he brought up what she’d done in the kitchens.  He had been such a git… but the whole thing… Slytherin house was certainly in an interesting way at the moment.  “I couldn’t let you bleed to death,” Jordyn replied, “it’d have been a poor mark on my Mungo’s application if I’d let that continue anyway.” 

It was true, though perhaps she was being harsh.  After all, this was an offering that was probably uncommon – a snack with an apology?   Digging her fingers in, she took a few pieces and held them up to her lips, chuckling a little as he indicated he didn’t poison it.  She covered her mouth as she chewed and swallowed as daintily as possible (that was actually quite good). 

“Even if you did, I have that entire book memorized,” she added with a quirk of a smile at the corner of her lips.  “There are at least 17 antidotes in there.”  It didn’t hurt that things like that were Jordyn’s specialty, even if it was probably only from sheer force of will.  She wasn’t naturally gifted like other students.  It took a lot of work to be Jordyn Dimbleby.  Every second tended to count.  After another few pieces, Jordyn did add, “You’re welcome, by the way.” 

Laughing, he shut the book with a loud thud before setting it aside on the sofa cushions. Bleed to death. It had felt that dire to him as well when it happened...like he might have died if he hadn't picked up the knife. With the exception of Eli - and even he was a party bag of unusual surprised - the house of Slytherin was full of sharp tongued attitude problems.

But they were attitude problems who were handy in difficult situations.

"I wouldn't use poison anyway." Virgil plucked a cloud of popcorn from her lap and threw it in the air to catch in his mouth; his jaws snapped shut on it, chewing noisily. "Words are so much more affective with you."

He fussily wiped his hand on his jeans. "But I think you know that." Nobody needed Legilimency to figure it out.

Ah! He’d given her the popcorn.  Now he was going to go plucking it away without asking?  She supposed one did not acquire all of their manners over night.  She would hold her tongue for the time being – Jordyn happened to be be much better at that than her housemate, and thus avoided all gruesome hexes and blades. 

While she tried to be as quiet and unassuming as possible, Virgil didn’t seem to care that he chewed like some kind of beast.  The loud crunching made her clench her jaw. She had to remember to let her breath out and remain neutral even if he was right, which was perhaps more embarrassing than anything. 

She didn’t have the time or energy to fight with him though.  She was going to get an ulcer at this rate.  “I appreciate your gratitude,” she picked her words carefully and tried to ignore his as best she could, even if her mouth was set in a terribly hard line, what with the way her teeth were practically grinding together.  “I don’t appreciate the smart comment though.” 

The moment was there and Jordyn figured if anyone was going to say something, she could.  “That’s what got you into that mess in the first place,” she pointed out for him, in case his own self reflection hadn’t gotten him there.  “So, perhaps it is time to learn your lesson and practice self-control.” 

Oh good he was being told off again.

        “So, perhaps it is time to learn your lesson and practice self-control.”

Virgil crossed one spindly leg of the other, narrowing his eyes at the Head Girl as they spoke - he was in a slightly higher position, perched atop the sofa arm like a washed out vulture observing the earth. It was tempting to look into her head but he'd told himself that it was best not to do that anymore; mostly after realising that having his own thoughts read would be the worst kind of violation.

"Why?" he asked the favoured question of all children.

It grated on his nerves when people told him to behave, even though he often chastised himself on the subject. The wizard folded his arms and tucked them under his chest as he leaned forward into Jordyn's space.

"She could have asked me to shut up." Virgil offered, referring to Cadance's behaviour last week. "Anyone can... but people don't. It's because they don't want to admit that I'm hurting them when I speak. It's easier to hit someone, isn't it?" his voice rose an octave in thespian manner. "Virgil Carstairs is all talk."

He paused and leaned back. "As if it weren't talk that had them raising their wands in the first place. So why should I practice self-control if they don't? And what is it you're implying I have to control?"

Jordyn’s eyes merely flicked upward when he inquired about why she would believe such a thing.  There were so many reasons, not all of them were completely selfish either.  But, she didn’t say so at first.  She wanted to see what else he would come up with.  Sometimes it was better to let a person hang themselves than to provide the rope and string them up. 

As he talked, Jordyn’s eyes narrowed.  It was so easy to act and sound like you were above everyone else, she would know – she did it daily.  But, if he took even half of a second to think about what he was doing, it wasn’t like he was untouchable either.  Virgil Carstairs had feelings, they were just buried under onion-like layers of cynicism and deflection.  In some ways, it was like looking into a mirror. 

Fortunately, Jordyn had been talking to Ms. Maiko for quite a while now and though she would not divulge that information, she would certainly spread a little of the wisdom she considered.   “Don’t put your insistence on crossing boundaries on other people,” Jordyn finally told him, tone as neutral and flat as she could manage. 

“She,” Jordyn decided it was best not to use her name in a place other people could very well walk into, “did nothing to provoke you, except exist with a condition you couldn’t find a shred of empathy for.”  The last bit was pointed.  Virgil couldn’t possibly understand.  “By the by, I don’t think it’s such a bad thing that it is easier to use force,” she turned her head to the fire, watching as pieces of ash danced in the flames, “You have to think about how you want to hurt people.  You really mean it when you say something… or at least it comes off that you do.” 

She folded her hands in her lap and inclined her chin back toward him, “The difference is, no one raised a wand to you until you struck twice.  Perhaps, if you could have kept your comments to yourself, I wouldn’t have had to fix you.”  It was honest, which was not an easy thing for Jordyn to be.  “Not everyone needs or wants your version of the truth, Virgil.”

He stopped himself short of rolling his eyes, if only because it was something Cecil[1] would do whilst getting told off by him.

Jordyn didn't know - couldn't know - that he had read Cadance's thoughts before lashing out. The prefect didn't realise he was doing it at the time but in retrospect he understood his actions better. He'd been trying to lure out the part of their housemate that she wasn't letting on: coldness hiding behind her pureblood artifice of prudence. Bulstrode was as insane on the inside as the rest of them. And now she was outwardly insane plus one foetus.

"I don't need to empathise with pregnancy, it's the continued perpetuation of our species -" he hissed back, though his manner was placid as he followed her gaze to the warm hearth. "- not the end of the world."

Virgil didn't really have an opinion about it all. It didn't matter to him, who got knocked up and why or where, though he thought Cadance and Charlie were both stupid for not practicing safe sex. But it was hard not to feel a tingle of pride when Jordyn suggested he'd meant what he said.

It was an art, coming off as genuinely venomous. Finding just the right tone and mannerism and words.

       "Not everyone needs or wants your version of the truth, Virgil."

He snorted, shaking his head softly at this. "Not everyone wants the truth at all. It was ridiculous-" Virgil clenched and then unclenched his boney white fist. "- her, laughing off the life growing inside her. All of you with your congratulations, ludicrous parody of a baby shower."

A pause as he breathed out wearily, running a hand through his hair. "I don't... I'm sorry. I don't mean to hurt anyone. I wanted a reaction, I wanted-" what did he want? "- to see how far I could take it."

1.	Virgil's 1st year brother

It was increasingly difficult to take Virgil’s apology seriously when he didn’t seem to be thankful at all.  In her mind, he sounded like he thought he was some kind of victim – crucified, to use religious terminology, for his truth bearing.  How heavy a burden he carried, delivering the truth to the rest of his classmates. 

Who got to decide the truth anyway?  Certainly no one in Hogwarts and the likelihood that even if that were the case, the person responsible for all truth was hardly Virgil Carstairs more than it was her – or anyone in Slytherin house for that matter.  If taking history of magic hadn’t made anything clear to her, and all of the revisions to their textbooks, the truth was a nebulous thing and hell bent on changing at any moment.  His interpretation was not somehow more packed with truth than anyone else’s. 

The thought was a little anxiety inducing, had she actually had time to think about it.  Instead, she just listened to him explain away his role in what had happened.  All ridiculousness was shoved to everyone else who’d been too polite or stunned to say anything but congratulations.  As if they were the cruel ones for not verbally ripping into their classmate. 

Her mouth set in a hard line and her fingers flexed and then curled around one another again.  It was very difficult to not immediately fire back with what she wanted to say.  Instead, she reflected, pursed her lips and then began, “Well, then, for the sake of your curiosity, I’m glad you’ve got an answer.  I hope it was worth it,”  It was the most diplomatic thing she could say, given the circumstances. 

As silence hung in the air, Jordyn looked for anything to do – or say.  “Thank you -- for the sweets,” she gathered the edges of the bag and began to fiddle with the ribbon again, “and I’m glad everything is healing properly.” She glanced to where he  had deposited her book, “Might I have that back?” 

       “Well, then, for the sake of your curiosity, I’m glad you’ve got an answer. I hope it was worth it."

Oh, Jordyn was good. He couldn't think of anyone else better fit to be Head Girl - her body language at the onset had preempted a very different response from the one he was receiving now. She wasn't rising to the bait; and with Virgil there was always some manner of bait waiting to coax out an argument. Or what he deemed as the ugly face of man.

"It wasn't. But I wouldn't have known that if I didn't try." Virgil replied softly, refusing to think about how much he did wish he'd found another way to taunt Cadance.

He glanced at the potions textbooks, reaching backwards to pick it off the sofa seat he had dropped it on earlier. The prefect held it in both hands and began to hand it over to Jordyn in her armchair when he stopped. His head tilted to the side, deliberating, and he pulled the tome just slightly out of reach.

"You're too polite to tell me to fuck off." Virgil stated, inexpressive in spite of the thoughtful voice. "Why is that?"

Contrary to what she wanted to do, Jordyn laughed when he indicated sating his curiosity hadn’t been worth all of it.  She almost didn’t believe him, but then again, who wanted to live with the memory of slicing one’s own face open?  It was the stuff of nightmares.  Thankfully, Jordyn wasn’t of the squeamish sort and her nightmares were much more obscure than that. 

Easy nightmares, like forgetting everything before an exam or receiving all Ts on her NEWTs were the easy ones to fix.  She could stop those things, actively work against them.  Failure just wasn’t an option, and sometimes that meant she couldn’t always say what she wanted or do what she wanted because there were consequences.

That seemed to be the thing that Virgil couldn’t wrap his head around.  Reaching out to grab the book, she sniffed with annoyance as he tugged the book back and asked her about just that.  “Consequences, Virgil,” she finally exhaled and let her hands fall again.  Apparently she wasn’t getting out of this as quickly as she wanted. 

“There are always consequences for the things we say,” she shrugged.  “They aren’t always as immediate as a hex to the face.”  Yes, the wording was deliberate.  “Besides, you understood my intention without having to use such rude language.”

He smiled faintly at her response, having expected something about decorum rather than the admittedly practical angle she was putting forward. There were worse reasons for holding one's tongue - silver or not. Jordyn was right after all; she knew better than anyone after being hexed for referencing rumours about Juni's father and the kidnappings[1]. She'd learnt her lesson then.

Virgil decided it would not be gentlemanly of him to retain the Potions text book either way, so he placed it on the side table by her armchair.

"There are also consequences to not saying things," he pointed out with a raised eyebrow as he ignored the quip about the hex. "And those are the ones we regret most."

The prefect slipped off the sofa, hands in the pockets of his jeans as he readied to leave Jordyn to her studies. "I did understand your intention. I just didn't like the medium - it's as two faced as Cadance." Virgil glanced over his shoulder and then back when a pair of sixth years meandered in from the dorms. "You could be direct with me, Jordyn. I won't hold it against you."

1.	Unknot Your Knickers - 14th March

Jordyn watched Virgil’s hands as he put the book on the side table.  She took it upon herself to reach over and quickly put it back in the proper place on her lap.  She liked the weight of it, like an anchor.  She wrapped her fingers around the cover and let it rest in her lap as she considered what he had to say. 

“Maybe, but I haven’t found much regret in not burning bridges,” she shrugged.  She’d stood at the end of quite a few fiery infernos to know that sometimes the satisfaction of watching something burn quickly dissipated when you watched the carnage unfold afterward. She’d done it after the kidnappings,  she’d done it to Jai – Jordyn was probably a lot better at it than a person should be.

No one could touch the arsonist-like hand of Virgil on it, however.  He was king of the burning bridge. 

Again, she watched him as he put his hands in his pockets and called her two-faced.  She didn’t care, really, she knew that about herself.  There was a part of Jordyn the world got to see and then a part of Jordyn that was hidden away because if it did get out it would be too embarrassing and damning to ever get over.  “If I thought it would be worth it, I might,” she wet her lips, “but every time I’ve tried, you’ve found a way to push blame on others – or trivialize my points - rather than listen.” 

“I don’t find pleasure in beating a dead hippogriff.  Do you?” 

Virgil stopped himself from suggesting there weren't many bridges to burn at the rate Jordyn made friends anyway - he had already antagonised her more than once and it would take more than one evening in the common room to make her snap. Not that he wanted to do that... tempting as it was with anyone. He had to stop needling them.

      "I don’t find pleasure in beating a dead hippogriff.  Do you?"

A bitter, grim smile. Perhaps he did.

"I'm sorry you feel that way - or that I make you feel that way with my responses." Virgil genuinely was; he found it extremely trying to be patient around Jordyn but he respected her work ethic. "If it's possible I hope to make your future attempts more worthwhile. But you're busy right now so..."

He glanced at the book she'd taken into her arms and began to think about his own attempts at studying this week, squeezed in between all their extracurricular activities. "Good night, Dimbleby. Enjoy your spring holiday."